#but N E way

[lynzishell]

The Past 💛 Atlas

I’ve finally reached a point where I can sit down and do some work on Ash’s game on my own. It took a lot longer than I thought it would. Not only because his workflow is incredibly chaotic, but also his design is incredibly complex, far more complex than anything we work on at Rainy Day, but it’s fun to feel challenged again.

I’ve spent every night this week in Ash’s living room while he walks me through everything he has so far, sorting out the design and the mechanics, his ideas for the worlds, characters, storylines, objectives, and so on. Yet, it feels like we’ve only scratched the surface.

We work well together, but we’re also easily distracted, often going off on random tangents and talking about everything from our families to school years and childhood friends to experiences we’ve had or want to have; we talk about how fun it would be to have our own indie gaming company one day, if only we could focus on the actual game for longer than an hour at a time.

Last night a song came on that inspired a whole conversation about music and all the songs we used to sing the wrong lyrics to, and some he still sings wrong just to annoy Lex. We started playing a game where we’d give each other a random word or category and the other would have to play a song they liked that fit. At one point I asked him what his guilty pleasure song is.

“Oh, I have dozens of those,” he said, “uh, but the first one that comes to mind is The Boys of Summer.”

“Your guilty pleasure song is an 80’s song?” I was shocked considering the amount of shit he gives me for the majority of my playlist.

“No no no no,” he shook his head, “I should clarify. The original sucks.”

“Of course you think so.”

“Obviously. Okay, but the one I’m talking about is the cover of The Boys of Summer by The Ataris.

“I like the name, but I have no idea who that is,” I admitted.

He laughed as he pulled up the song and told me, “You’re either going to love this or hate it. I’m not sure which.” When he pressed play, all I could do was watch in awe as he shamelessly enjoyed the song, complete with hand motions, air guitar and lip syncing. At one point he leaned in and sang directly to me, “But I don’t understand what happened to our love. But baby when I get you back, I’m gonna show you what I’m made of!” And then he spun away and started dancing to the chorus.  

Before I had a chance to think too hard about whether he was trying to tell me something through the lyrics, he pulled me off the couch to join him. We sang and danced with everything we had until we collapsed onto the couch, out of breath and wiping tears from our eyes.

When we finally calmed down, he pointed at me, “Your turn. What’s your guilty pleasure song?”

“Oh god,” I covered my face, “I can’t believe I’m going to tell you this.”

“Tell me.” He demanded.

“Dancing With Myself by Generation X. I can’t hear it and not sing and dance around my apartment like an idiot.”

“Oh, I have got to see this!” He sat up excitedly to find the song and turn it on… and then cheered when I began clapping my hands to the beat… and then completely lost it and fell over laughing when I sang along with my eerily accurate Billy Idol impersonation.

It’s become one of my favorite things, making him laugh. He has about a dozen different laughs from a rush of air through his teeth, to an infectious giggle, to a loud belly laugh… but my favorite is when he’s laughing so hard that no sound comes out aside from a series of clicks until he finally catches his breath.

It’s so easy with him, to get out of my head, to just relax and be myself.

Not everything is easy, though. I keep telling myself that eventually my feelings will fade, that it will get easier to just be his friend and nothing more, but if anything, it’s getting more difficult. Sometimes when we’re together, all I can think about is sliding my hand over to rest it on his leg, or to pick up his hand and interlace our fingers, or to reach up and hold his face, turning it toward me so I can kiss him. Not a day goes by that I don’t think about kissing him, his lips, his neck, that inch skin above his waistband that sometimes shows when his shirt rides up just enough, every part of him. Sometimes I let my eye contact linger just a little, desperate for him to give me a sign that he still feels the same way, but he never does. On some level, I’m grateful. It’s better this way. I’d only end up hurting him again.

I hear the front door open and close, bringing me out of my daydream and back to my computer screen. I look over what I’ve done so far to make sure I didn’t screw anything up while I drifted away.

A second later, I hear Dawn enter the room and flop onto my bed behind me and I glance at the clock, it’s only two.

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

“Finished early. What are you doing? I thought you weren’t working on Fridays anymore.”

“I’m not. It’s just a side project I’m working on with Ash.”

“Ooooh I see.”

I roll my eyes and change the subject before she can inquire further. “So, why are you on my bed? What do you want?” As I say the words, I’m overcome by the feeling that we’ve done this before.

“For you to take a break and go do something with me." I'm antsy. "I’m antsy.” Her words come out like an echo from my own mind and my whole body feels fuzzy for a moment.

“Have we had this conversation before?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Hm. I’m having the weirdest déjà vu.”

“Maybe you’ve been staring at that screen too long. We should get out and do something.”

“What do you have in mind?”

I’m open to suggestions. “I’m open to suggestions.”

Weird. This conversation, the song playing through my speaker, Dawn laying on my bed, me at my computer… everything feels so familiar. “Where’s your boyfriend? Why aren’t you dragging him out?” Even as I ask the question, I know I’ve asked it before.

“He’s busy…” Having coffee with his ex-girlfriend. “Having coffee with his ex-girlfriend.”

Okay, I clearly need some fresh air, and she clearly needs my support right now, so I save my work, lock my computer, and spin around to face her. “Oh, that’s why you’re antsy. Okay, I can take a break, but let’s go outside. We can go for a jog, that’ll get your energy out.”

“Fine, I’ll go change.”

Prev // Deja vu // Next

[lilarus]

WIP Wednesday

(even though it's Thursday for me now)

Thank you to the amazing @illumiera for tagging me~

This is just a small snippet from my fic's next chapter (chapter 4).

With Haev's insistence that they weren't needed, Sirestia found themself at a loss for what to do. Staying in the village only offered them so many available options and they didn't want to stray too far from the children, but perhaps they should.

"What are you going to do today, baba?"

"I am still unsure, baby girl. What suggestion do you have for me?"

"I think you should explore the island a little more!"

"Should I?"

"Yes! And don't worry about us, I don't think the village will do anything to us now."

"If you are sure, my lovely."

Raseyl nodded enthusiastically, her ears bobbed up and down as she hummed.

"Pick a place on the map and I will venture there," Sirestia grabbed a map of Solstheim out of their bag, unwrapping it before laying it down on the table.

"Here."

Raseyl placed a pale finger slightly southeast of Raven Rock, they raised their brows.

"So far away?"

"I think you should maximize your time away, though there's no doubt you'd make it there in something like an hour."

"My own child wants to get rid of me!" They exclaimed dramatically, raising a hand to their forehead. "Oh, the pain!"

"Baba!"

The two laughed and she grabbed them, giving them a little shake. Raseyl wrapped her arms around them tightly, only loosening when they placed a kiss or two on her hair.

"I know you've been really bored recently so I want you to have a little time outside. And I know you're not really enjoying your time here so maybe something good will come of it."

"Thank you, baby girl."

I don't really talk about it on here much, if like at all, but you can find my fic below !

Tagging @firebastardextraordinaire and @out-of-mana and anyone else who would like to :>

[ladamedemartel]

*mariah carey voice* it's TIIIIIIIIIIIMMMMMEEEEEE

[curiosity-killed]

While I’m (loosely) on the topic of depictions of vampires in modern media, I really think the “can only enter with permission” thing could be used more kinkily

[j-esbian]

i wish i had bigger boobs so i could dress more masc. do you get it.

[ghosted-jazz]

I hope they got that microwave in the break room

Bonus version with different outfit colours:

[emberglowfox]

i dont think the sages are distinctly aware of everything their avatars are doing, but i imagine some things probably bleed through

[pineapple-frenzy]

Book 2 au: sparring sessions and short hair katara

They like to have sparring sessions in order to keep their bending skills sharp. They allow themselves to go all out and not hold back at all cause they know if anyone got hurt, Katara could just heal them

But anyways, wouldn't it be kinda funny if Zuko accidentally burned Katara's hair tho? Aofkqldkkajfjd

The "I think we can save the hairloops" line is from @linnoya-writes thank you for that!! :>>

[irrealisms]

everyone in mcyt fandom talks about bad inventories but i feel like we don't talk enough about the different types of bad inventory & the ways that inventories can be characterizing. i took most of these screenshots but one or two of them aren't by me and i've just had them saved for a few months sorry. i'm taking inventories from various people across various servers (wild life, dream smp, hermitcraft, lifesteal, and 2b2t) to illustrate my point here

like there are inventories that are bad because they're empty:

but then there's also inventories that are bad because they're full:

and, like-- the different ways an inventory can be bad are also characterizing? an inventory can be bad because the items aren't stacked; or because it's empty of anything useful; or because it's so full of building/fight supplies that there's no slots left for doing anything else; or because it's full of random junk. it speaks to a character's position (compare tubbo's diamond sword and empty inventory to ranboo's netherite sword or zam's full inventory of potions) and the rules of the server they're on (tubbo's not wearing elytra because elytra aren't allowed on the dsmp; zam's inventory has chorus fruit and wind charges but no ender pearls because ender pearls aren't allowed this season on lifesteal) and what their priorities are (building, pvp, lore) and how organized vs scattered they are and so much more. another inventory i like:

like!!! that's so instantly characterizing, for both the character and the server!!!! 5 stacks of end crystals + obsidian. 6 stacks of tnt. 3 stacks of god apples and a stack of chorus fruit as your only food. the bucket of lava and bucket of water for lavacasting. the fact that the flint and steel is enchanted with unbreaking. that's a STORY--of the character but also of the server! this is not the sort of inventory you have on most servers! it's so focused around griefing--explosions, lavacasts--and pvp, and the stacks of god apples as primary food source are an instant warning sign for widespread duping. the chorus fruit not for fights--ender pearls are strictly better, and he's got some so he clearly has access to them--which means it's for escaping traps, which means that's a live concern. it's got a lot of pvp supplies but it's so wildly different from the lifesteal inventory in ways that speak to the differences in server rules and cultures. like, horrendous inventory in many ways. also, very good inventory in some ways. also also, delightful inventory! fascinating inventory!!! inventories are such a delightful source of instant characterization i love them so so much

[just-bee-lieve]

a peek into the au where mike works at the pizza plex and he and vanessa are work besties :^}

BONUS

[rathonk]

coming out as a reani fan with screencap redraws

[formulanni]

The Safety Car as The Tower:

The Tower is commonly interpreted as meaning danger, crisis, destruction, and liberation. It is associated with sudden unforseen change.

@st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls

[dreagine]

Ithinkweregonnahaftakillthisguy

[zehrbear]

Bones and All

pairing : Dragon!Sylus x fem!Reader

cw: smut, monsterfucking, predator-prey, blood, double P in V, being restrained with his tail, reader has tits and a vagina, sylus wants to eat you :3

Sylus is obsessed with how soft you are.

He’s enthralled by the curve of your hips, the way you yield beneath his claws that leave hollow indents behind on your flesh with every squeeze. You’re his favorite possession, his greatest indulgence to hoard.

The reminder strikes him as he watches you lounging atop the velvet settee, oblivious and serene, against a backdrop of gold and glittering that gleam in the dim light of the cave. His reptilian gaze lingers, drinking in the way your body bends and twists, the natural grace of you as you stretch when you think no one is watching. The lazy roll of your spine, the shifting of your thighs, it all leaves his claws twitching with the need to claim you. He pictures your body beneath him, all pliant and willing, as he maps each curve. He imagines mouthing at your jaw, his lips grazing down your neck to drink in the scent of you.

You’re always so sweet. So soft. So warm.

So fresh.

The thought teeters on the edge of something darker. A place where the line between desire and hunger blurs into a bloody haze as he grapples with his conflicting feelings. As he finds himself unable to discern between his mate and his feed for the night. 

Your head snaps to the side when you hear the sudden shifting of gold, the sliding of coins that lay scattered across the ground against one another, as they do when pushed by something heavy. 

“Sylus?” Your voice is higher than you intended, raw with unease. 

There’s no response. His name echoes back at you, hollow and mocking before the sound suddenly stops. You turn sharply, pulse roaring in your ears, only to meet with nothing.

It doesn’t feel right. Every instinct screams at you to run, but your legs feel like they're in quicksand; lethargic, heavy, unable to move. It feels like you’re sinking into the gold beneath you shifting right below your feet. Your breaths come shallow, rapid, each one colder than the last as you look around for the source of your panic. That is, until your gaze lands on two scarlet eyes, wide and predatory, gazing right at you from the shadows before it disappears once more. 

He’s stalking you.

Coins spill and clatter, tumbling in a slow cascade down mountainous piles on either side of the cave’s walls. You spin again, your movements frantic, and it’s as if the shadows are alive - seeping into every crevice, pooling at the edges of your vision.

You feel him circling you. You swear you can when a brush of heat grazes against your arm, making you jolt upright. Your head jerking to the side to catch a glimpse of him, but once more, you’re met with nothing but the ghost of a touch and the roaring of your blood in your ears.

“S-Sylus?” you whisper this time, a breathless sound barely audible, and in that moment you don’t know if you’re calling for him to reveal himself or begging him to stay hidden.

A growl rolls out of the dark, low and resonant, reverberating through the cave and into your very bones. And in that moment, every part of you screams prey. The frantic thrum of your pulse, the quivers of your body, the way your breath comes shallow and quick betraying the fear you can’t possibly hide.

It’s intoxicating to him.

The world blurs as something crashes into you, an overwhelming force that knocks the breath from your lungs. The gold shifts violently beneath you as you’re thrown back, coins scattering and clattering in a deafening storm. Your body hits the ground hard, sharp edges biting into your skin. You gasp, chest heaving as panic flows through your every vein. 

Before you can even process it, he’s on you.

Sylus looms above you, all dark scales and burning lust, his massive form blocking out the light with a presence that eclipses everything else. A claw makes its way to your face, tilting it upwards and baring your neck to him as the other holds you down by the shoulder, pinning you down easily. You twist and squirm trying to break free, but it’s futile as his scorpion-like tail wraps around your middle, sinuous and heavy, and locks you in place.

His chest heaves, his breath hot and heavy against your skin as he lowers his face to yours. His eyes are blown wide, the red of his irises swallowed by darkness, fixed on you with a singular, unrelenting focus. He’s panting, his jaw unhinging just enough for his fangs to glint in the dim light as the slick heat of drool drips onto your skin.

You’re so small beneath him, fragile in ways that ignite something primal within his system. His jaws part as he leans closer, the sharp points of his fangs grazing your neck, teasing the delicate skin stretched thin over the artery thrumming wildly beneath. The sound of your racing heartbeat filling his ears and stirring up a hunger so deep it makes his chest ache.

The conflict burns in him, a raging fire that twists his hunger into something far more dangerous, a carnal need to consume you. Your soul. Your flesh. Your very bones. His tail curls tighter around your middle, possessive and unyielding, locking you in place like a predator fearing his prize might escape. You’re so soft, so flush with life, and it would be so easy to take that all away. To have you fill his mouth another way. To hear your cries warp into screams and see your wide eyes filled with terror.

His hips shift, pressing his arousal against you, the ridges of his twin cocks sliding along your trembling core. The slick heat of his pre smears against your skin, marking you in ways that send a shiver through him as his claws flex again, almost breaking skin this time.

It’s like your every nerve is alight; sparks flurrying throughout your body in flashes of electricity as you feel the weight of him pressing against you. Your cunt tightens as he moves closer, as he prods against your entrance, stretching you out with just the tip of him as your walls flutter around him and you grow lightheaded with fear, or is it anticipation?

Could this heady feeling a mix of both?

“You’re afraid.” He growls low, satisfied with the way you gasp and arch beneath him as if your body is betraying you.

The sound of his voice curls in your ear, cutting through the fuzz as his teeth sink into the tender flesh of your neck. Sharp points puncture the delicate skin, wrenching a cry from your lips as ruby beads spill and trickle down your throat in a warm, sticky stream. You tremble, caught in a storm of sensation- each spark, each bite of pain, tangled with a pleasure you can’t understand. One that thickens as he shifts his weight, as his hips roll against you with deliberate pressure and the burn of him stretching you open wrenches a choked cry from your lips. He shudders at the sound, growl deepening as his hunger sharpens and it takes everything in him not to give in, to tear you apart and savour the feel of your flesh between his teeth, your blood , metallic and warm in his mouth.

Soft, so soft, and so sweet.

Will she feel this warm when she’s no longer moving? 

As he sinks into your heat, stretching deliciously around both cocks despite the fear in your eyes and the tremors wracking through your body… as he feels the slick coating your inner thighs and your clit pulsing below the tip of his tail, he realizes the truth of it. 

This hunger of his will never go away, will always linger just beneath the surface where it threatens to break and envelop him completely. But this unbearable need to make you his over and over again, is stronger.

Though it’s too much, too overwhelming - your body still clings to him, greedily taking more as though you were made for this, for him. It’s a feeling that coils around you, binding and inescapable. Like a tail wrapped around your middle, tethering you together while he feasts on you.

The pull of something neither of you can suppress.

@awwitschuu <3

[ruvigapo]

Run boy run!! The sex monsters eat salmon!!

In which i arrive Fashionably Late to the fishssek party

[temeyes]

answer the question sir