#and giant murals and GRAFFITI

[whoa-where-did-the-pancakes-go]

Girl help I'm getting fascinated by urban spaces again

[sweatervest-obsessed]

Can You Come Around

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

pairing: modern!steve harrington x modern!fem!reader

wc: 2629

cw: mad flirting, swearing, alcohol, drinking, weed, smoking, mentions of cheating, men being weird, smut, 18+ mdni, fingering, teasing

a/n: set in modern times with the reader as the front woman of a new band in NYC. hope you guys like it!!

steve masterlist

“Goddamn”  Eddie whispered as they all stared up at the stage. 

It was Robin’s twenty-first birthday, causing everyone to meet up in New York City. Since Robin was the last of the eldest teens to turn of legal drinking age, the group decided to go on a small trip in honor of the momentous occasion. 

A four day trip with four of Steve’s closest friends—what could possibly go wrong. 

Originally? Nothing.

Wednesday and Thursday went off without a hitch. Seeing as her birthday was Wednesday, they spent the night bar hopping, snagging free drinks from those who were feeling generous enough to donate to their celebration, and snagging as many free desserts from as many restaurants as possible.

Then Friday night hit. Abandoning their original plan to try this bar near NYU that Nancy had been raving about, they found themselves in some other part of Greenwich, at this random bar that Eddie just had to go to. 

You see, the group had run into one of Eddie’s old friends on Thursday, and he wouldn’t stop raving about this random band that only Eddie seemed to have heard about. And that’s when Eddie turned to look at the group. 

“No.”

“Nancy—”

“I said no Eddie, this was the plan–”

At one point he even got on his knees and pleaded with Nancy. 

She eventually caved when Eddie offered to sponsor her drinks for the rest of her trip.

Which is how they found themselves packed in the back corner of this surprising large space. It had to have spanned across two buildings since it was just this giant, underground hall that was covered in drawings, in stickers, in posters, in murals, in graffiti—dark, but not dingy, which Nancy and Robin greatly appreciated. Once the group had managed to snag a table in the back, and gotten their drinks, they all started talking to one another. 

It was loud, but since there was no music playing, they could still hear one another pretty well. 

That was until your band walked on stage the crowd of college kids roared. 

To say that Steve was completely and utterly entranced by you was an understatement. The roaming lights around the audience would catch his eyes every now and again, but it didn’t matter if he was being blinded since he could only see you anyways. 

As you greeted the audience, Eddie elbowed Steve slightly in an ‘I told you so’ manner. “You’re going to fucking love them man.” 

Steve only nodded in response, watching your smile broaden with each roar of applause from the crowd. 

The night went on like this, Steve being completely despondent from all conversations happening at the table, and the group making fun of his infatuation. He barely even finished the beer in his hand, only able to focus on the sound of your voice filling up every available inch of room. It was hard to not breathe you in with every single inhale he took. 

As the night was winding down, the crowd only grew. But as all good things, your performance had to come to an end. Your voice rang out. 

“New York!” 

They roared in response to you. 

“I just want to thank you all for coming out tonight to support me and my friends. At the end of the day we’re just a bunch of idiot twenty-two years old that fucking love music, and we’re so grateful you guys decided to come out and support us tonight.”

Steve heard Eddie scream over his shoulder with the rest of the crowd.

“Now, we only have one song left in our set–I know I know it’s devastating but some of us wanna get fucked up too.”

The opening chords of the song rang out and Steve swore he was going to go deaf. He had never actually felt sound before, but there was a first time for everything. 

Nancy whacked Eddie’s shoulder. “I fucking love this song, why didn’t you lead with that?” 

Eddie’s eyes grew wide as your voice floated over. 

Can you come around? Fuck me nice. 

“You know—you LIKE–this song?”

Pull my hair. Sing me lullabies. 

“Eddie, we listened to it in the van on the way here..”

And we can pretend that we're in love. 

Steve blocked out the rest of their conversations and zeroed in on the thrumming of his pulse as you continued to sing. 

“When you come around, I��ll wear red. And I’ll forget all the awful things you’ve ever said. And we can pretend that we're in love.” 

Singing has been a passion of yours from a very young age. You were in vocal lessons the second you turned four, and dance lessons by five. Your parents were certain you were going to be the next broadway triple threat. You had even picked up the guitar and piano by age seven. But by the time you hit middle school, you had become more interested in writing, in poetry. You dropped the dance lessons and picked up drum lessons instead, much to the chagrin of your father. Writing poetry turned into writing music, and suddenly you were sneaking off to go to concerts every night, finding ways to get into bars to see local singers and bands. It was exhilarating watching people pursue their passion.

You found your bandmates in your first semester at Columbia. You had been in the wrong place at the right time, finding out that one of your lab partners could also play the guitar and the bass. And then you found out she knew someone who played the drums who was looking for a few people to hangout with. Then you found out that the drummer's sister was a keyboardist who was over at NYU. And NYU’s roommate? Well she just so happened to be one of the greatest guitar players you had ever heard.

That’s when you guys started playing and writing music together. 

“Until I throw a punch and you call me a cunt and that tips me over the edge. Ah, you throw my phone out the window. The next thing the neighbor says she’s calling’ the feds, and I wish you were dead. For a sec. I wish you dead. “

You couldn’t help but feel as though someone had shot electricity through your veins. Any time you stepped out on that stage, it was as if the world shifted under your feet and suddenly you could feel every single pulse of every single person in the audience. 

Tonight was no exception. You had officially released two EPs with collections of songs on them over the past few years, but a few weeks ago, your band had signed with an agent, who was able to get you more gigs, better gigs. She was incredible. 

Exactly a week ago, you had released your first ever single with a label. Your EPs were listened to, and you were an up-and-coming group to look out for, for sure, but you had never had a single before. 

It blew up.

“But you come around. At ten pm. We watch tv. We break the bed.” 

Tonight was the first time you were singing the single live, and hearing the entire audience screaming the words back to you took your breath away. You almost forgot the next words since you were so baffled at just how many people knew your songs, how many people knew the words. 

 And we can pretend that we're in love. We can pretend that we’re in love.” 

You couldn’t help as your eyes roamed the entire audience the whole night, but during this final song, you locked eyes with someone in the back. 

He had these gorgeous eyes that only showed for a brief second as the light that had roamed over him, before it moved on and he was gone again. 

Your heart almost jumped into your throat and your stomach flipped. Who the fuck was this man, and how did you find him once you finished singing this song? 

“Until I throw a punch and you call me a cunt and that tips me over the edge. Ah, you throw my phone out the window. The next thing the neighbor says she’s calling’ the feds, and I wish you were dead.”

This song was written over the course of twenty-seven minutes. 

About four months ago, your relationship of three years had decided that you weren’t enough. And instead of ending it all proper-like, he decided to go and fuck some random girl in his ethics class. 

The irony was not lost on you. 

For a sec. I wish you dead. I wish you were dead.

After you had finished performing, you went backstage, congratulating your bandmates, but your mind was somewhere else. It was in the back of the venue with one of the most gorgeous men you had ever seen in your life. 

At the same time, Steve Harrington was running through all of the ways he would be able to find you in this crowd. He wasn’t about to tell his friends he was running off to find you, since it was Robin’s birthday night after all, but he wasn’t about to not take the chance. 

“They’re fucking amazing…” Robin slurred out a little bit, having had six shots in the past ten minutes. Wearing a “It’s my birthday” sash in a bar is all fun and games until you receive your tenth tequila shot and eighth free margarita from kind strangers. 

“Alright…maybe we should…”

Steve and Eddie chuckled at the sound that emanated from Robin’s mouth. He was sure if he put in the effort, he could translate it to a negative response to Nancy’s suggestion. 

“I’ll be right back Eds, while Nance and Johnny take Robin back. I know you wanted to stay out a little longer.” He muttered to Eddie before heading off, towards the hallway near the side of the venue. 

Steve found a bouncer near the end of the hallway who was smoking a cigarette and nodded outside. “Do you mind if I…?” 

The guy shook his head. “Knock twice to be let back in, yeah?” 

Steve nodded and headed outside, reaching into his pocket to pull out a joint from the small container in his pocket. 

Just as he did so, he heard a cough from beside him. “You don’t happen to have a…”

As Steve looked up, your voice trailed off. The rest of your sentence didn’t matter since you were face to face with the mystery man from the back of the room. 

“Hey you’re–” Steve pointed at you before realzing how fucking dumb he must sound. But you just shrugged and nodded. 

“Yeah. How’d you like the show?” 

Steve held the lighter up and lit the joint that was in your hand. “Loved it.”

“Yeah?” 

All you could notice was how gorgeous his eyes were again, stunned into a moment of hesitation with words since you were absolutely too mesmerized by him. 

“Great fucking show.” 

That and his hands. You would let those fucking hands do anything to you. 

“Think so?”

Steve nodded, and bit his lip as he looked you up and down shamelessly.

You come around. Fuck me nice. Pull my hair. Sing me lullabies.

You shoved Steve up against a wall, lips against his. He tasted like weed and whatever beer he had been drinking earlier. 

His hands cupped your ass as the two of you began to make out in the dimly lit alley behind the venue. 

No other words needed. 

Your body rolled reflexively against his, causing him to moan softly into your mouth. 

“Just gonna kiss me pretty boy or…” You muttered as you kissed across his jaw, sucking and leaving marks all across his neck. 

Steve took the opportunity to roll the both of you against the wall so now his body pressed yours up against it. 

His hands had moved from your back to your hips, squeezing them ever so slightly as to get more of a rise out of you. 

It was working. 

He slipped one of his hands down the curve of your hip and to the front of your jeans, unzipping them as you moaned into his mouth. The fingers that had previously been on his neck were now twisted in his hair. 

Steve’s pointer finger slid up your panties, causing your whole body to jolt at the touch of him between your thighs. 

“Please…fuck…P-Please.” 

His lips trailed down your cheek and towards your neck. 

The feeling of his hand so close to your pussy and the fanning of his breath over your neck was enough to almost send you over the edge right then and there. 

Steve knew better than to keep you waiting. Brushing aside your underwear with his thumb, he pressed a finger up into your core. 

Steve’s eye’s grew darker at the feeling of how completely soaked you were, just for him. 

Your hips rocked back and forth slightly, trying to get him to move, trying to get the friction. 

Steve took the hint and dug his finger in further, getting up to his knuckle in pussy. 

Once Steve had thouroughly fucked you with just one finger, he decided to add another. And then another, causing you to tug even more on his hair. 

Steve decided right then and there, he loved the feeling of your squirming on his hand while you yanked the shit out of his hair. 

“F-fuck–shit I’m…I’m so..” 

Steve started rapidly curling his fingers inside of you, over and over and over again, brushing against your g-spot over and over and over again. 

His other hand came up to your mouth and he slowly pushed his two middle fingers inside, causing you to slightly choke on them, and then moan. 

It was muffled by the digits in your mouth, but it was the final straw that caused your orgasm to snap your body in half. Choking slightly on one hand, and your pussy convulsing on his other, you had ascended to heaven. 

A man had never made you cum just by fingering you before. 

In the midst of your orgasm, body spasming at Steve’s fingers contined to fuck your insides, that Steve was probably just a god—a sex god really. No man could be this handsome and fuckable, while also being phenomenal at sex. 

Eventually as your body calmed down, and Steve removed his hand from your mouth, you felt his lips on yours. Your hand instantly shoved him hard against your lips, feeling the need to feel something of his skin on yours. 

He slowly circled his fingers causing your body to let out another moan, sending a shiver up your spine. 

After a few moments Steve pulled away, and you opened your eyes to take another look at the man standing with you. As you did so, he very gently pulled his hand out, looking you in the eyes the whole time. 

You might as well had cum a second time right then and there as he slowly slipped his fingers, covered in your orgasm, into his mouth. If you thought about it too much, you were sure you basically drooled right then and there for this man. 

“You…”

Steve raised his eyebrows at the fact that the woman he had just heard singing her heart out was now speechless at him. 

“Me?” 

“You’re coming back to my apartment.” 

“Oh?” 

You nodded and slid one of your hands down to zip up your jeans and fix your shirt.  Not that it mattered since you looked like you had just been fucked to heaven and back in an alley. 

Not even a moment later, just as Eddie was leaving the club he received a text from Steve: 

Dont wait up

[bookofthegear]

Right. Weird noises. Go toward the weird noises in hopes they don’t come towards you.

That made more sense in your head, but you start down the ramp anyway, just as whatever-it-is goes “Hnaaaaagh!” again.

Although the slope is quite shallow, it descends a surprising distance. The air is damper here and smells faintly of algae. There isn’t much graffiti here, but you can pick out the remains of a mural on the left- hand wall. It’s been badly damaged, but seems to show a city either being destroyed by a meteor or a giant flaming avocado.

Come to think of it, a giant flaming avocado could BE a meteor, if it started high enough up, right? There’s nothing that says it has to be a rock, is there?

You put this question to Jimmy. He does an apologetic dance indicating that he was trained as neither a geologist nor an astronomer and thus does not feel comfortable rendering an opinion.

Another ominous “Hnaaaagh!” echoes from the walls.

The hall leads to a dark room. You grip Grandma’s stabbin’ knife in one hand and your lantern in the other, and step forward to meet your fate.

“HNAAAAAAGH!”

…Your fate appears to be a large frog, the approximate size and color of a beefsteak tomato. It goggles at you from a puddle in the corner, inflates a pale throat sac, and gives you a good hnaaaghing. It’s much less intimidating without the echo effect of the hallway.

[homunculus-argument]

I think cities would look nicer if they allowed murals and graffiti with specific qualifications, like every city has certain colours and themes you're allowed to paint with. Like yeah this city is a historical port town that's warm most of the year so our colours are orange, teal, and marine blue, and you can paint whatever with ships and a nautical theme. Houses painted colours that compliment it.

Like you wake up in a random city and the first thing you see is a bright red and yellow graffiti depicting a giant cat swallowing a steam engine train and immediately think "fuck, what the hell am I doing in Kouvola?"

[talesfromlissom]

TFP!OPTIMUS HEADCANNONS  // Optimus x reader tidbits || Part 2 

WARNINGS -  Infertility/sterilization, some mentions of pregnancy(??) , mentions of genocide 

A/N - I put down Elita-1 just because why not, but you can imagine this as an x reader instead. These are mostly Optimus headcanons. I have another post with headcanons about him before he became a Prime HERE. This also is alot longer than I thought it would be please help.

Elaborating on the previous bullet point about Optimus being the last of the data clerks. In the early stages of the war, the High Council ordered a mass extermination of miners after Megatron’s rise to fame. They blamed Orion for it, which caused Megatron to retaliate and order every data clerk to be killed. He was mostly successful. 

After being anointed the next Prime, Optimus was confused. One of the main reasons he advocated for a peaceful resolution to the caste system problems is that he had seen what the Quintesson War had done. He had seen war at its worst and didn’t want that kind of violence put onto the planet again, hence the reason why he always advocated so strongly for peace. 

After becoming the new Prime, he was isolated from the world. He wasn’t allowed to contact any of his friends unless supervised, but he would often sneak out to see them. He doesn’t remember why and thinks that it was because he was friends with many people who hated the caste system like he did. 

If he wasn’t seeing them, then he was painting. He liked to do giant graffiti art murals the most, hence the reason why he has ‘steady hands’. He’d spend an entire night in some abandoned theater or an empty alleyway. You could probably find one if you looked hard enough during the war. He often left the citadel late at night to do this. . 

After the war, most of his murals were knocked down or destroyed. 

Nighttime seemed the only time he had to himself back then, so he’d stay up late doing whatever he wanted. 

He always claimed to be a Prime of the people, not the government. This was reflected in his actions, as he would often donate large amounts of shanix to charities outside the High Council’s jurisdiction. He increasingly got frustrated by the high council’s lack of concern for their people and their refusal to listen to him. 

The High Council eventually appointed him a Lord High Protector due to his increasingly ‘rebellious’ antics (could be the reader/Elita-1, depending on what suits your fancy, ;] ) 

He despised the Protector, as they felt more like a glorified babysitter than a bodyguard. 

Eventually, the High Council got fed up with Optimus’ refusal to listen to them. At his last ceremony, to be officially inducted into the Primacy, they planned to give him a drink laced with sedatives so he’d be more accessible to shadowplay. 

Optimus’ Lord High Protector found this out, contacted his friends, and helped him escape, which made him trust them more. He then went to find the Matrix of Leadership because Megatron’s war was starting to poison the planet. He could feel it somehow, though he couldn’t explain how or why. He still can’t. 

He enjoys drawing A LOT. Given his size, he obviously can’t do graffiti art on earth, but when he goes on ‘patrols,’ half of it is him going somewhere to draw. However, he doesn’t do creative or fun drawings nowadays. It’s mostly art of the people in his life, nature, etc. So, it's primarily observational art. That datapad and pen are his most prized possessions, and he always carries them in his subspace. No, you cannot see it. 

A MASSIVE touch of the ‘tism. He could talk for hours about ancient history, famous literature, or anything like that. He visibly gets more expressive when talking about these things, too (actually canon lmao). He enjoys learning about mythology from other cultures as well. 

He hates group settings and despises oil. He most likely suffers from high empathy, but he tries to be empathetic towards people or animals only to mask this. 

More on the high-functioning side of the spectrum.

He’s very aware of life and deeply existential. He always wonders how life came to be and related matters. He asks many questions and thinks of new ones every day. Hence, Agent Fowler and he are so close. He got stuck in a storage house with him once and asked so many questions about human life/purpose that Fowler aged 50 years. 

His interest in history was easily hidden as just a plain interest in it. He was a data clerk, specifically a data clerk in the history-keeping field, so it’d make sense he’d know a lot about history. Not only that, but he’s also a Prime, so he has to know about the history of his own planet/people exceptionally well. It’s a good thing he already did before the primacy. 

He tends to focus too much on things, almost becoming obsessive, for example, trying to repair his relationship with Megatron, nearly bordering on obsession with doing that very thing. There are times when he will be working at the console and he’ll be so wrapped up in his work that he’ll forget to eat, sleep, take a break, and do things like that. 

He spaces out a lot more than people realize. He’s pretty good at making it look like he’s listening, but he does listen(partially), just not as much as people think he does. People think he’s quiet due to this (which he kind of is but yeah)

His audio finals move a lot, and he used them to stim. The only issue is that due to the energon shortages, many people had to shut down certain parts of their frame, and his fins ended up being one of them. He resolves this by tapping his fingers on his knees instead or letting his smokestacks shake, but this makes people think he’s angry, which confuses him because he’s not. This is probably due to the MASSIVE RBF he has. 

Speaking of brain stuff, he also suffers from C-PTSD. If we’re going by the lore found in The Covenant of Primus, Optimus has been involved in two civil wars—one as a soldier and the other as a leader. Regardless, both of these wars are terrifying. I’d imagine that’s why he seemed to handle the war much better than others—he’s used to it. It doesn’t change the fact that he hated experiencing both of them. 

He has most definitely stumbled upon sparklings once or twice. He usually contacts a neutral colony planet or ship to take them and does so quickly. He’s gotten attached to every sparkling or youngling he comes across, barely able to prevent any sire/carrier protocols from activating. And when I say attached, I mean EXTREMELY attached. You need a parental figure? Congratulations! He’s adopted you. No, you cannot go home; let’s decorate your bedroom together 😀

Speaking of children, he wants his own, but the Matrix is annoying. Most Transformers constantly drift to being hyper-fertile or sterile (I headcanon that the Allspark is primarily responsible for this, but I will probably go into that later. I have a whole process and everything), and Optimus is no exception. 

However, the Matrix takes a lot of power from his frame, including his processor and other parts. It's very taxing. It’s rendered him completely sterile, no matter how potent the Allspark is. This is a sore spot for him, and due to how long the Matrix was in his frame, these effects have remained even after he was resurrected without it. Only Ratchet/Elita-1(or you) know this. 

Jack, Miko, Raf, Bumble Bee, and Smokescreen are all registered under the sparkling category. Those are his kids; don’t touch them. 

WORD COUNT - 1239

Other Links & Support | Ask box | Rules 

[ambrozjas]

OKOK… a fic with sodapop curtis x reader alright? but, soda is part of the rodeo and he’s getting ready to hop on the bull while reader is just totally hyping soda up, and once he finishes he runs back all giddy and stuff and just hugging reader and SQUEEZING them? idk but just in general, all i need is a rodeo sodapop x “cheerleader” reader. ty smm i luv ur writing btw <3

taming a bull ꨄ︎

sodapop curtis x reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

rkfkekddkek this is literally such a cute req, but i know almost nothing about bull riding so forgive me if i got anything wrong 😭😭

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

mentions of a bull, bull riding, and the bulls horns, and kissing (eww 😒)

✧˖*°࿐ word count 🧸ᰔᩚ

749 words, 3903 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“y’can do it.” you rubbed soda’s back as he hyped himself up, jumping up and down to circulate his adrenaline even more.

“and next we..” you both heard the announcer say through the giant speakers, the muffled audio from inside the dressing room distorting his voice.

“alright, it’s time!” sodapop said, jogging out to the door. you were turning to grab your bag and exit to the crowd before you felt a hand grab your arm and lips crash against yours. before you could fight it, you opened your eyes to see your boyfriend, giving you one last kiss before he went out.

you tapped his cheek, signaling for him to get a move on. once he had pulled away, he looked you up and down with his sea blue eyes.

“you gonna be m’cheerleader out there?” he asks, tilting his head.

“you know it.”

he beamed at you before he heard one of the crew tell him to come out. he gave you a quick wave and jogged out the door again.

you walked out another exit, making your way into the sea of people who were already cheering once soda had come out, half because of the sport and the other half because of soda’s good looks.

you watched with a smile as he searched for you in the crowd, saddling up on the bull while his crew secured him and the flank on the animal.

his eyes met yours, quickly crinkling with his grin before he was given the okay and braced himself as the gates open. soda grabbed onto his hat as the bull bucked its hind legs vigorously.

you cheered and clapped intently as you counted the seconds for how long he was on, already nearing eight seconds.

the bull shook its head along with his body rapidly, horns pointing in every which direction trying to buck soda off.

you and everybody around you whooped and whistled as the time finally hit eight seconds, and right after, soda finally flew off. he broke his fall as he shifted into a roll and clambered away from the bull to avoid injury, his back and pants covered in the light brown dirt from the ground.

his head turned quickly in every direction, eyes scanning the audience for you, and when he laid eyes on you, you’d think he was seeing an angel.

he ran up to you as you leaned over the railing, you pulled him by the collar of his shirt and pressed a kiss to his pink lips, a little rough probably from licking and chewing on his lips out of anxiousness.

“c’mon, baby y’gotta get up.” you whispered to him, eyes landing on the bull who the staff was trying to contain but all soda could do was look at you and smile.

once you had snapped him out of it, he climbed over the white spherical railing and the tall pieces of wood painted with ornate murals and graffiti that separated the audience from the dirt.

all sodapop can do is laugh and rush over to you, arms coming around your waist as you wrap yours around his neck. his grip on you was tight, rocking you side to side subconsciously as you mumbled praises in his ear, him pressing kisses to your cheek.

“y’wanna get outta here? maybe go to the dingo or som’?” he asked, pulling away but keeping you at arms length so he could hold your shoulder and look you in your eyes, those eyes he adored so dearly and those eyes who had supported him from the day you had met him.

you saw how soda was practically vibrating in place with energy, you wondered how his cheeks didn’t hurt with all the smiling he did.

“or y’know, we could head home or get some tickets for—“ you cut his stammering off with a kiss, holding his face with your hand as the other one found his hand. you heard a multitude of whistles behind you in the crowd at your interaction with your boyfriend, but you didn’t care.

it felt like those scenes in the movies, where everything went dark and you and soda were the only two people in the world, the announcer’s voice being tuned out in the background with the rest of the crowd. you and him were the only people in the world right now, it felt.

and that was all that felt right.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ soda’s literally my bae 🤭

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[thedickcavettshow]

I’m on the train rn looking at the graffiti we’re passing and we just passed by a giant mural under a bridge which looked EXACTLY like Richard O’Brien and I turned to my friend and was like “lol why tf did someone paint a giant mural of Richard O’Brien” and she was like “It’s supposed to be George Washington”. I did not see that it had “George Washington” written underneath it. But in my defense I don’t remember George Washington being fucking bald

[cb-writes-stuff]

Silly Game Time: Alright, I found a blank wall in the city and I've put together the best team of graffiti artists that a promise of reasonably priced pizza and my homemade banana bread can buy! Now the only question is what our unsanctioned mural should depict ...

You get to suggest the subject for one corner, no matter how abstract or concrete, vague or defined, serious or silly, complex or simple!

Take a selfie with whole crew in front of the blank wall. Compress it into a JPEG. Artistically interpret that into a landscape. Take that to Walgreens, have them make a print of it. Sell that print for $5 on eBay. Go to the bank, withdraw $5 cash. Tape the $5 bill to the wall with name-brand Scotch Tape. Paint over the $5 bill and tape with paint the same color as the wall. Wait for it to dry. Then paint a giant $100 dollar bill but with Looks to the Moon on it.

[rinwellisathing]

Get To Know My OCs: What would they do if The Purge was a thing in Baldur's Gate?

Sentry Ojeda: Massive art installations and mural projects without a permit or zoning. Just graffiti on a massive scale as a huge artistic endeavor. Massive frescos of bloody murder scenes, a giant naked statue of Gortash...so many possibilities.

Jaina Thalassia: Stealing. Just flat out she would put her upbringing on the pirate islands to good use, commandeer a push cart and have Karlach push her around the city just stealing stuff.

Octavia of Creche K'liir: Breaking and entering. Not to hurt anyone, just to read through all their random notes and journals and examine how they live, studying them like bugs in a jar.

Kroger of Creche K'liir: He's such a good boy, though...maybe for the sake of argument practicing medicine without a license so that he could help any injured person he came across even though he's technically a Ghustil and probably not licensed outside of Githyanki Creches.

Jackal Silk: I hate to say it but technically he'd be the boring one and just do his murders more openly. He's kind of just that sort of a dude.

[ardienothesieno]

Hmm maybe some ashes from above info (because cool)

(Hmm I also wonder who this 13 fireflies, many falling leaves is. Surely someone unimportant)

HI HI OKAY I FINALLY HAVE ENOUGH TIME TO ANSWER THIS WOO

ehehehehehehe ash ranting--

fireflies was an artist!! her official job was painting karma murals-- the artwork you see before entering an iterator's puppet chamber (and can find in various important places in the cities) fireflies is a chaos-loving anarchist, though, so she does a lot of graffiti to make up for the pretty artwork >:)

she's actually why ash becomes so chaotic (and angry, eventually)! ash was still a pretty young iterator when they met, and thought her worldview of "ascension is stupid iterators are stupid religion is stupid everything is stupid BURN THE WORLD DOWN" was suuuuuper cool

they don't really vibe with those views until after the mass ascension, though. while fireflies was still alive ash's chaos really only escalated to the point of little harmless pranks, not full on anarchy after the mass ascension, however, they start to see fireflies' points and realize "yeah no this is all really f***ed up i think i'll burn it down"

fireflies was probably ash's closest friend before the mass ascension. ash's colony was pretty chill and flexible with them, so they didn't push back or question too much when ash requested that fireflies got an open-access pass to visit their puppet whenever she wanted to

...they never really got to figure out what they were to each other before fireflies was forced to ascend. which is kinda understandable. i mean, how are you supposed to say 'hey i think i'm in love with you' to a giant sentient metal box

ash's scarf belonged to fireflies. she left it with them when she had to go ascend. ash hasn't taken it off since.

[basaltbutch]

some of the stuff that was painted over from when we were here in 2021, btw;

went back out to our favorite asbestos train trail on our way back from the desert. a lot of my favorite graffiti has been covered up at this point since this is technically a popular place and is easy to get access to—the stuff further up trail i bet still has a lot of great work (didn't get time to go see it). there was still a whole lot of neat stuff here!! huge fan of the giant bone drawings on the roof.

[fashionbooksmilano]

Graffiti Paris

photographs by Fabienne Grévy

Harry N.Abrams, New York 2008, 127 pages, 267 ill., 19 x 26,6 cm, ISBN  978-0810970892

euro 25,00

email if you want to buy booksinprogressmilano@yahoo.it

Graffiti artists in Paris, much like in New York and Los Angeles, have transformed urban spaces—sidewalks, metro stations, staircases, abandoned buildings—into showrooms that exhibit their work in all of its many mediums, from a proliferation of stickers to cleverly applied stencils to giant murals. In Graffiti Paris, Fabienne Grévy takes readers on a tour of Paris’s street art, and also discusses the variety of unique sources that inspire the artists, including the cave paintings at Lascaux, nineteenth-century Japanese blockprints, and comics.

06/04/23

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[twilightknight17]

Today on P5T, we finish the DLC, get cranky at logistics, mentally subtract one from Akira’s assumed god-murder total, and I start gathering up everyone for a roadtrip to go lay on the floor of the Atlus Headquarters until they think about their writing choices.

Before we head off to the finale, we chat a little more about Luca and Guernica, as well as why Goro was investigating the graffiti in the first place. Apparently the police asked for his help to look into it because they were getting frustrated at their own lack of progress. It must suck for them, to not be able to find Guernica or the Phantom Thieves. XD Doesn’t explain how he knew about the Arsène mural in a back alley, tho. People in Yongen seem too chill to call the cops over that sort of thing.

I don’t actually remember what it was that he said, but I was given a dialogue option to agree with him, and when I took it…

Careful, Goro. You almost sound like your real self, there. ^_^

He also makes a comment about how, even if he didn’t want to help Luca, Akira would have made him anyway.

I wanted to be a little shit, but I opted for asking him to show off instead.

Now that the mural is complete, it’s actually really beautiful. The three pieces recombined, and dissolved into light, which was absorbed into Luca. We also learn Guernica’s real name, and Luca prepares to open a hole directly into the villains’ lair.

Meanwhile, in the lair itself, Jerri is still being a huge bitch, and also apparently hates art.

She’s trying her best to delete every memory of Luca from Guernica’s heart, so by the time we get there, things are very dire. The world took the thing Guernica loved most, and now she’s been fully warped into wanting to destroy the whole world as retribution.

We fight Guernica to a standstill, and Luca finally, finally gets through to her. Jerri tries to throw a fit, but Sumi is not letting anyone interrupt this moment between sisters.

Luca returns the light of Guernica’s first mural and restores her to normal, and then fades out, her task accomplished. That just leaves Guernica herself, who is pissed at Jerri.

And Jerri is doing herself no favors in response.

Goro… really shouldn’t know that the gods are real at this point, but he’s excused because it’s pretty badass to just flat-out say it to her face like that. XDDD

Jerri is not a god, Jerri is a minion at best, but she still transforms for one last final boss battle that makes it pretty obvious who her master is.

...I’m losing it a little over the fact that she’s still just named “Jerri”, though.

The paint mechanics shift again, this time introducing black paint that we’re not allowed to walk on at all. The whole battlefield is covered at the start, but as Jerri summons enemies, and Guernica backs us up with her paint gun to create a path, the boss is eventually within reach. After a certain amount of her health is depleted, she resets the battlefield to a new configuration and new black paint, and we go again.

Third battlefield is the charm, and despite Jerri’s claims that she’s in control, Guernica understands now that this is her world, and she’s the one with the power.

I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something a little more dramatic, considering the full capabilities of imagination, but this works too! One last rainbow-painted battlefield where no one has any cover at all. Shoutout to Goro and World’s End for chewing through a ton of her hp. And so Jerri falls, and her giant mock-god form dissolves back to the bird.

Jerri vanishes, and dear god, are we really not getting any more than that regarding her identity?

...thanks for confirming, Sumi.

Guernica talks a little more about how she’s can feel Luca in her heart, and that she’ll always be with her. It makes Sumi tear up, but she’s not sure why it’s affecting her so much. How close was she to breaking through Maruki’s bullshit? Man, if we’d just kept this conversation going for a couple more minutes, we might have done it.

Akira gets a dialogue option to tell Guernica that he’s a fan of hers now, and she’s thrilled. Everyone promises to see each other again one day, and Guernica sends them back to the real world.

...she’s so pretty.

I have to wonder if this is a similar situation to Toshiro. Her eyes aren’t shadow-gold, so I’m assuming this is the real deal. In which case, she’s very chill about being in another world. I’m thinking this place is closest to a Stronghold. Something to protect the core of her heart. And Luca was part of that protection, when she couldn’t protect herself.

We get a brief confirmation that Jerri was in fact working for Salmael, and he’s sending her back to the void because no, Jerri, killing all of humanity is not the kind of tranquility he’s going for. We never actually see him or any of his dialogue, but this is definitely his weird clockwork kingdom.

So what you’re telling me, Atlus, is that there were two active gods in Tokyo in November. Plus Azathoth already actively screwing with Maruki’s head. PLUS Enlil’s cinema and all that nonsense that the Thieves don’t remember. November was an absolute fucking mess. It’s a wonder the whole city didn’t just poof out of existence from the strain.

My actual point here is that I’m trying to wrap my brain around how Salmael and Yaldabaoth are going to coexist ruling over humanity. I guess absolute control can mesh with self-preservation instincts, but it’s funnier to imagine God Wars. XD

Anyway, I wonder how long we’ve been gone this ti–

I want you all to understand that I blurted “NO” out loud.

This is CHEATING, Atlus, you damn cowards, you set this story in November and refuse to commit to the consequences of that. I loved this DLC, I loved the story and the music and the character interactions, but this last two minutes was just… complete disappointment. At least the games that involve the Abyss of Time are justified in no one remembering anything.

The graffiti Goro came to investigate is gone, so he decides to just leave. You came all the way here to Yongen and aren’t going to stick around for longer than two minutes (from your perspective)?

And what time is it? It was afternoon before, as far as I could tell, but Guernica’s done a whole new piece, and the news claims it appeared “overnight”. Is this a weird memory retcon thing on a massive scale, or have we been gone all night and just don’t notice that we’re missing like 12 hours? Morgana’s watching the news report when Akira gets back to Leblanc, but he doesn’t comment on Akira being gone, just implies that they’re running late need to leave, before Sojiro gets upset. So like… late for school? Is it the next morning???? Atlus I’m begging for just a crumb of a sense of time anywhere in this game.

It’s cool art, though. :)

The credits are cool, with little floating paint blobs, and afterwards, we get a brief scene of Toshiro watching the news. His father notes that he seems too interested in the graffiti, and he brushes it off as ‘petty vandalism’… before immediately going back to watching the news intently.

And that is the ending of the DLC! Now I can go get those last few personas for my compendium, and run NG+ merciless mode–

……….are you KIDDING ME, ATLUS.

Fine. Time to call down World’s End to just murder everything. Goro’s gonna be my strongest teammate forever.

It also unlocked challenge maps, with specific character and skill presets for each one. I tried the first one, and not only is it difficult, but all of a sudden, friendly fire is active for AOE spells, so that is bizarre. We’ll see if I can figure those out another day.

For now, time to go not think about how I’d change that ending. :P

[mythgirlimagines]

Ok honestly Serial Killer Makoto and Junko were funny and I thank the anon for the ask lmfao

Speaking of Junko, while her sister's the Ultimate Supreme Leader, Junko's busy doing arts and crafts <3 yeah, she's the Ultimate Artist. She completed a talentswap with Angie actually, since she's the new Ultimate Fashionista. Any headcanons?

I can see her having a "the world is my canvas" kinda mindset? Figuratively and literally, she both doesn't care for any kind of constraints whatsoever and Will vandalize your buildings with graffiti. Nice contrast to Mukuro tbh, who's... Ultimate Supreme Leader title would imply uh. all kinds of constraints. both for her. and her subjects.

ngl I love this for her

Junko took “art” in her own kind of way. Yeah, she painted and did oil pastel art and all that jazz, but she didn’t really care for the constraints of some traditional forms of art.

Graffiti and other street art was more her style, alongside messy sketches and makeup art. There were so many mediums she could do instead of what was most wanted from her.

She doesn’t show it, but a lot of the time she feels incredibly frustrated with her art, at least the art that ends up in exhibits and everything like that. It never feels as genuine or real to her.

Junko very much did not care about rules and stuff with her art unless it was something she was specifically making for the public eye tied to her name. Otherwise, she loved doing whatever she wanted wherever she wanted.

Her dorm basically was one giant mural with multiple kinds of mediums and clashing subjects. It was a huge mess to the outside eye, but she loved the chaos of it.

[sergeantsporks]

Holy shit I've been waiting for this

Okay so I have one guy named Marcus (I think I've talked about him actually) that Belos fucking HATED cause A) he looks more like Belos than he does Caleb and B) He's got a history of getting distracted.

Does he get the job done? Yes, but it might take longer AND Belos might find a mural painted on one of the walls outside a town on the way out which may or may not be Marcus' work.

Marcus is definitely creative, but he's more on the 'built like a brick wall' than a 'i am a genius' type. He has a huge misunderstanding of how much pain is 'too much pain' since his main tasks are hunting giant beasts for Belos' profit.

On the timeline, this is before the first sigils were made but he definitely wasn't the first grim.

He's very outgoing and protective, usually his freetime is spent painting on whatever surface he can find, or if he's in a town for a bit he'll be playing with the local children. Loves giving piggyback rides and showing his strength, has to severely limit himself in tag, though hide and seek is his worst game since he's used to the forest and doesn't know how to navigate villages very well.

The inside of his cloak is filled with little drawings from kids he's met before, each one havinh their name written right next to it. It's the biggest secret he hides from Belos.

When he dies, it's after being ordered to set a village alight, which he does without question, but he sees one of the kids he was playing with a few days before the event stuck under a fallen board and disobeys orders to go help.

Belos stabs the kid first, then stabs Marcus and leaves Marcus to watch the kid die before eventually succumbing to the blood loss himself.

Gilded fam would either love him or hate him.

Oh, yeah, I remember Marcus!

Oh, no, there are DEFINITELY grims in the gilded family that would unfortunately relate to Marcus on a few aspects. That's great, I want to give him spray paint and teach him about graffiti

[cordycep-creations]

I offer some WIPs into the void? This one's for a Monster of the Week game I'm running. Context under the cut.

It's a spider that sits in the middle of a web of alleyways. It knows when anything enters any of the alleys and where. It shifts people around, getting them lost or feeding them to the other monsters that live in the alleyways.

It can manifest parts of itself out of graffiti on the walls, and there's a giant mural of it at the center. This is meant to be the design for the mural.

Like I said this is a WIP, so I'm gonna do a better version of it at some point. --there were supposed to be 8 hands obviously but I'm shit at space management.--