#cricket is my muse

[corvid-canidae-art]

“Yeah I have headmates”

“okay well are they saying?”

“Well I think they’re making out right now and theyre both telling me to draw yaoi”

[splankie]

an idea for a potential charcoal drawing?

[nek0mancies]

Being an OW roleplayer is so difficult bc the community isn't very active and it's so hard to find ppl to vibe with bc it's rampant with drama and that makes me so sad bc I love writing Sigma and even made my own unique interpretation of him

[drmfyres]

give this a like and i'll hop into your dms for some plotting shenanigans ! <3

[faerunsfinestmisfits]

@swarmcall for Astarion

Wildshapes into a mosquito to bite the vampire. Sorry not sorry but, taste your own medicine ~

"Why you little..." Astarion would've slapped the mosquito if he hadn't seen Cricket wildshape in front of his own eyes. "Now that was entirely uncalled for! At least I ask!... I mean, at least now I ask!"

[fwipination]

Iggy gets a shave an a haircut because that's what you do after a redemption arc. He sometimes also forgets certain new features between transformations-- usually the horns and pointy teeth. Sometimes his tail if he's ESPECIALLY distracted, but he hates it when that happens. Cricket always assumes it's on purpose!

The Donut King tank top is canon.

[tamlindudley]

Me closing anonymous asks

[hyaciiintho]

🌸｡*ﾟ+. Gonna share "P"s bio here below the cut since I don't really have his google doc put together yet (I don't feel like editing colors and graphics and all that right now, but I literally have all this typed up already dfgshjk). I wanted to share though and add to my "Muse List" tag because technically he's pretty much ready to go ✨

I was vague in this, however, there are still heavy spoilers for the game in terms of who P is!!! If you're not wanting to be spoiled, don't read, not even the basic bio on top because? Spoilers????? xD but yeah, here's my new golden child, he's joined the ranks of Link & Riku, and that's saying A LOT right there. The 3rd golden child 💙 I'm excited to write him with others!

Name: Goes by “Carlo Geppetto” Nicknames/Titles: Geppetto’s Puppet, Puppet, Clever One, Doll Face (Only one person is allowed to call him that) Age: ??? (Physically appears somewhere between 18-23) D.O.B: September 19th (Virgo ♍) Pronouns: He/Him Sexuality/Romanticism: Asexual; Demiromantic

PHYSICAL Height: 5’3” Weight: 310 lbs Hair: Grey Eyes: Gunmetal blue Skin: Fair, smattered in freckles

ASSOCIATED FLOWER(S) White Stargazer Lilies

MAIN TAG VERSE | MAIN 🌸 P

FAVORITES COLOR(S): Light blue & Gold SOUND(S): Music & a cat’s meow ANIMAL(S): Cats

By morning, he was born, awoken within the confines of a solitary train in the midst of a city overrun by puppets. With only a voice as compass, and a puppet guide dressed as lamplight for company, the dark-haired puppet boy followed directions without complaint. There was no greater purpose than to prove as useful to the one who had awoken him, and to his creator– his Father, Geppetto. 

There was kindness in the old man’s eyes and something else entirely he couldn’t quite pinpoint. It was nice though, being spoken to with such warmth and gentility. Something within him stirred, if only for but a moment.

His Springs were reacting.

By afternoon, he found himself changing, memories of a life someone used to lead beginning to weigh on his mind more heavily than any physical object he was made to carry. The name Carlo whispered to him in his mind by a voice that belonged to someone who was dear to him– or were they dear to “Carlo”? The distinction was hard to make, and only grew harder as the hours ticked by. The change wouldn’t only alter his form of thought, but physically alter him as well, what was once short and unruly hair now having grown to his shoulders in silken tresses.

His father seemed upset– The puppet couldn’t understand at all as to why.

His Ergo was whispering.

By evening he had felt many new emotions– or were they just being relearned? The feelings coursing through his body, pain that made his mechanical heart ache, lifelike eyes sting with the need to shed something from them– but what? Happiness that rumbled sound from a place within him he never knew existed prior, and anger that caused his body to grow hot from rage. With every new ? bond he formed, he felt himself change; With every loss he endured, he felt himself grow. With every memory he could recall, the puppet boy felt Carlo stir deep within his heart.

His hands were covered with blood, oil, and grime– he wasn’t ignorant to what that meant.

Not anymore.

He felt warmth.

By the next morning, he had been reborn, no longer the naïve puppet boy from yesterday’s rainy morning, and not quite Carlo from those days when he had been alive. By next morning, he was changed– both and yet neither. He would keep the name, though. Carlo was who he was at the core of everything, even if he was hardly anything like the Carlo who used to be, but neither was he the newborn tool having stumbled out of that train anymore, either. 

He was something new, a collection of memories and experiences meshed into one, giving way to someone else entirely. His hair had greyed through the power of ergo coursing through his body, its length being allowed to grow even longer. Though his face still remained youthful, his eyes told the stories of, not just one, but two lifetimes-- and they were tired, if not relieved; There was pain but there was also hope.

'--an Ergo puppet can have a second life and become another kind of human--' He just needed now to decide just what that second life meant for him, now.

His heart was pounding.

[shifuaang]

I just now realized that my two semi-abandoned (I WILL finish them someday; I'm a completionist) chapter fics were also abandoned by my readers/reviewers, and that's why I lost a lot of momentum. 😶

I don't just write for engagement, but it sure does help when you know someone is looking forward to the next chapter as much as you. Especially when you work really hard on something and invest a lot of time into it and are excited for people's reactions.

[pirateborn-a]

romanticism,,,,,

[psychcdelica]

@dcviated and Sae went on a family date. "So. How about that game, huh?"

A day spent out with her husband and daughter was a day well spent, and Seina had been dressed up in support of her mother's baseball team. (Well, originally her father's - something the Lawyer happily inherited.) Anyway, Sae's forever thankful for her husband's willingness to indulge her in her favorite pastimes.

The game itself was intense, at points she was literally on the edge of her seat with anticipation, the end result had disappointed Sae, but it was still a memorable occasion out with her family. Her toddler puts up a fight with going to bed for the afternoon - a kid who doesn't want to go to bed takes a bit of wrestling (but it's clear to her mother that she's tired.) In the end, the lawyer is successful in the endeavor, and with that, she celebrates by joining her husband on the couch with a dramatic flair added in for emphasis.

"Though a disappointing outcome, it was still an enjoyable day out," Sae replies as she makes herself comfortable against Wylan, "that umpire was questionable though, clearly blind, perhaps showing favoritism."

[drmfyres]

i think i love helaena too much to just?? "rp market" her??

like i can't get myself to do starter calls or anything bc i feel like writing her needs fleshing out and discussion and a more deep sense of it all idkidkidk it feels so dramatic but she's HERE the muse isn't absent i just don't wanna be mediocre about my guuuuurrrrrllll

[solivagantingrebel]

I know there's a whole football thing going in the fandom for Ghost's childhood interest but consider; what if this British man also liked cricket.

[wishmelucks-archived]

may reenter my rp era ...

[eufezco]

THE MUSE

Benedict needs to practice female form. Naked female form. And who better to help him than his lifelong friend?

Benedict x fem!reader (smut with plot, friends to lovers) + no use of y/n. english isn't my first language (!)

Benedict didn't know how to ask you.

You had been friends for a long time, your families were practically one. Always so united, your mamas took walks every afternoon, gossiping about the ton and your fathers had been friends since childhood. You and Benedict were bound to meet.

You and he grew up together. You were friends with his siblings, you had held sleepovers with his sisters and won cricket matches against his brothers. Lady Violet Bridgerton loved you like a daughter and your mother loved Benedict like a son.

But your friendship with him had always been special.

When you were twelve, you ran away together to camp on the riverbank, just because Benedict wanted to draw the moon reflecting in the water at night. The following year, despite the scolding you received for your river adventure, you and Benedict sneaked onto private land just to pluck a few petals from the summer sunflowers to get him the perfect shade of yellow.

You and Benedict were very close. Of course, there had always been rumors about what kind of relationship you two had and that Lady Whistledown had only added more fuel to the fire writing about you two in her pamphlets. You and him never cared about that, and neither your families but it was true that you two have had to face some uncomfortable conversations with them about it.

That's why Benedict didn't know how to ask you. You had a lot of trust in each other, you had always supported his artistic vocation but perhaps this was too much.

—Oh, thank God you've come. I am in need of a model —. It was the first thing Benedict said to you when you entered his studio. The maid closed the door behind you, leaving you alone with him. Thank goodness the Bridgertons' service was very discreet, if anyone found out that you and him were alone in a room it would cause quite a scandal.

—Good evening to you too, Benedict.

—My apologies. Good evening —. He leaned to kiss your cheek.— I need a model —. He let you know one more time.

—How have you been? Very stressed from what I can tell —. You tried to have a normal conversation with him before you paid attention to what he required.

—Indeed.

You sighed. —Well, what is it? I thought we were going for a walk.

He nodded. —We can go outside later. But I need to get this done by tomorrow and I feel like I'm losing my mind.

—And...?

—I need practice female form.

You slowly nodded. You were aware that Benedict had been recently attending this art academy, you were happy that he was finally able to pursue his passion and you couldn't deny that within the characteristic desperation of the artists, he looked very attractive. Benedict's hair was a mess, his white shirt was half-open, his sleeves were rolled up. He would never have allowed himself be seen in society like that and you were grateful because otherwise he would have all the girls after him.

—And you want me to...?

—Pose for me.

You weren't quite sure how to do it but it seemed easy and fun. All the times he had drawn you, he had done it when you were distracted, reading, having tea with his sisters... The pencil moved effortlessly across the paper when he saw you laughing with Daphne or playing with the cards that Colin had brought back from his trip to Spain. He was already too embarrassed to admit each time he drew you and Anthony teased him by saying that if he didn't propose to you, he would show you his drawings, and Benedict's heart skipped a beat because he knew that his older brother was not known for being a joker.

Benedict still didn't know how he was going to ask you, maybe it was better to just let it out.

—And what shall I do? Just stand here? Like this? —You laughed and made a dramatic pose like the ones you saw in the paintings in the gallery you visited together.

—I need you to ...

Benedict swallowed nervously. He looked down at your dress and then directly into your eyes. You raised your eyebrows, waiting for him to finish. You also looked at your dress to see if there was something wrong with it.

—Benedict I don't think I understand what you are trying to say—

—I need to practice naked female form.

Benedict immediately noticed your horrified face. He wanted to go back seconds ago when he hadn't even asked but if it wasn't you, who would it be? —I will not draw your face. No one will know it is you. It will be purely professional, I just need a few minutes.

You bit the inside of your cheeks and decided to trust him when he said that it would be for professional purposes only. The unfinished nude sketches that made your cheeks burn when you saw them as you entered his studio showed you that Benedict found no inspiration in the bodies of the academy models. After a nervous swallowing, you nodded and Benedict's face lit up. He hugged you but you didn't have time to hug him back because he quickly went to prepare the canvas.

—Is the door locked? —You asked him as you shed the little jacket that covered your shoulders along with your gloves. Benedict rushed off to lock it and before he returned to his position behind the canvas. You called his name and gulped, your hands failing in their attempts to unzip your own dress. —May I please get some help?

—Oh, yes, of course. My apologies.

Benedict stood behind you, his fingers brushing the skin on your back as he began to slowly unzip it until the dress slid down your body and fell at your feet. Benedict felt like he had to look away, as if in a few seconds you would not be completely exposed to his eyes. He offered you his hand to help you get up on a small pedestal that he had in his studio. Once you got rid of your underwear, you felt vulnerable but not as vulnerable as when Benedict ran his eyes over your body from his position and with the paintbrush already in his hand.

He let out all the air he had in his lungs, he couldn't take his eyes off you. Benedict could not deny that he had imagined it on many occasions, but reality far surpassed his imagination.

—What... What should I do, Benedict? —You hugged yourself.

—Put your arms down and stand like that. You look perfect, darling.

Your cheeks burned after that. You did as he said. His brow was slightly furrowed in concentration as his eyes went from the canvas to you and back to the canvas. Benedict asked you to turn around and he squeezed his eyes tightly after seeing your bare ass. Purely professional, this was purely professional, he had to remind himself.

Benedict grabbed a wooden chair and walked over to you. Your heart skipped a beat once he was so close to your naked body and he felt the exact same. He placed the chair next to you and invited you to sit on it. He nodded slowly when you did, focusing on the new position of your body. Benedict went back behind the canvas and made a few sketches.

He cleared his throat. —Would it be possible if you... Could you spread your legs?

Your cheeks grew hot and you squeezed your thighs together.

The knot you had in your stomach got tighter and you felt your chest rise and fall slowly thanks to your deep breathing. You straightened your back in the chair and you did as Benedict asked. You felt the air of the room caressing you in that warm and wet area and he held his breath, his chest puffing out as your legs slowly opened for him.

—You are beautiful, darling. Do not be ashamed —. Every new inch he discovered of your body made you look more perfect in his eyes. It was as nice to see you as it was to paint you.

Your cheeks grew even hotter but this time it wasn't just your cheeks, your whole body was in flames starting with the area between your legs that was so exposed to his eyes.

—Could we try another position?

You nodded, relieved, you were sure it was painfully obvious the way you had gotten wet and you just hoped he was busy enough to not notice.

He dropped the paintbrush and got up from the stool on which he was sitting. Benedict felt the knot in his stomach grow tighter with each step he took closer to your naked body. You moved in the chair out of nervousness. Benedict leaned slightly over you. —May I? —He asked before touching your leg. His voice made you shiver, he was so close, you felt his hand brush against the skin of your thigh. You nodded and looked up at him while he repositioned your leg. Benedict's eyes meet yours, so helpless, his lifelong friend, was that innocence in your eyes, or was that...?

Lust.

Your hand grabbed the back of Benedict's head and pressed his lips against yours. His eyes widened in surprise but immediately after, his hands went to cup your cheeks as he fell to his knees in front of you. You opened your legs so he could place himself between them and be closer to you. The shameless hands of your friend traveled down your neck until they reached your breasts. You moaned against his mouth once he gave them a gentle squeeze, the soft palm of his hand brushing against your nipples.

Benedict left a trail of soft kisses from your cheeks to your collarbones and your breasts. He took one in his mouth as his hand played with the other, his tongue moving in circles around your nipple and sucking on it at the same time. Your breathing quickened and your lips parted to let out soft moans when Benedict's teeth brushed your sensitive nipple.

He let go with a pop sound and watched you gasp for air. Benedict placed his hands on the inside of your thighs and caressed your skin there before he slowly pushed them to open even further. His hands prepared you for him, his eyes asked for your permission. You nodded and Benedict flashed you a smile, that was all he needed. He peppered your thighs with kisses, taking small bites and kissing your sore skin afterwards. Your breathing deepened as his mouth got closer to where you needed him the most. He was so close he could smell you and oh Lord, his dick got hard as a rock at that moment.

You took a sharp breath when he licked from your entrance to your clit and savored your juices in his mouth. The image was completely sinful, his blue eyes were locked on you while his lips sucked on your bundle of nerves, his hands forced your legs to stay open for him. Your head was thrown back, your mouth was open in a perfect "O" form, your fingers digging into his scalp. Once he noticed the desperation in the way your hips rolled against his mouth, two of his fingers entered you easily. You stifled a loud moan, throwing a hand over your mouth.

Benedict hummed, sending vibrations to your clit.

—Talk to me. How does this feel? —He required.

—So good. It feels... —You bit down your lower lip, his fingers sank deeper. —It feels like heaven.

He was satisfied with your answer.

Benedict fucked you with his fingers until you had to grab his wrist to get him to stop, it was too much. Your legs closed around his head but his lips were still attached to your clit and he didn't stop until he heard how your moans turned into whines and cries, not until he noticed how your back arched off the chair and your chest rose and fell uncontrolled thanks to your panting. Benedict didn't stop, not until he felt how your pussy was clenching so hard that almost pushed his fingers out of you and he heard you moan his name one last time as your grip on his hair tightened.

He gave you all the time you needed to catch your breath, kissing your legs and intertwining his fingers with yours while you came down from your high. Benedict's blue eyes were locked on you making every effort to later recall every single part of you.

—How are you feeling, darling? —Benedict stood on his feet and held your hands so that you would stand up as well. Before you could answer his question, you both realized how your legs were shaking and laughed. At the same time, you felt Benedict's grip on your hands grow stronger to keep you from falling.

Benedict leaned in and kissed your lips in the sweetest possible way. The tickling sensation in your body that you felt when you were naked in front of him had turned into a different kind of tickling, now focused on your stomach. It was so familiar, you had felt it so many times when you looked at him but now, with his lips on yours and his hands treating you with so much affection and care, it was different.

You could confirm that it was not only lust but also love.

You hummed against his lips. —Wait, did you finish your drawing?

Benedict shook his head. —But, please, do not worry about that. I will help you get dressed —. You frowned confused and he gave a quick kiss to your lips so, as he had told you, you would not worry. —I can finish later. There's no way I'm forgetting your body, my dear.

[analyticallymindedaa]

i have a lot of updates to make like updating my muse list and cleaning up pages and all that shit but if anyone wants to see the shitposts that will be on my multi