#i offer u a deal
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🌺🌺🌺
#my art#i offer u a deal#make more Highschool au fanfics and I’ll draw more teenage goobers#alnst#alien stage#ivantill#alnst ivan#alnst till
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...........slips gege ¥2000
#my art#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk fanart#jujutsu kaisen fanart#yuji itadori#megumi fushiguro#itafushi#fushiita#jujutsu kaisen art#just lines n tones bc it is wednesday and i am Saving My Energy . gotta take it easy on the right hand lest something Happen#this is my warmup this is my offering this is my manifestation prayer#anyway *looks at tally marks on my bedroom walls* it is day 5673474 of drawing itfs embraces in the hopes that it will happen in canon#call me delusional if u want but ill b the one laughing when these two tackle each other into the most desperate hug later today#tears in eyes clutching at clothes clinging 2 each other with the intention of never letting go etc etc the whole 9#hands and knees gege i BEG pls give me an itfs narrowly-escaped-death reunion hug i am starving.....#ill even sweeten the deal u dont even have to draw it u can just use mine :)#anyway i am tired of pretending i don't think fushiguro Rash Emotional Decisions megumi would be the one 2 kiss yuuji first#argue with a wall <3
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Guy who went to Baldur’s Gate law school and passed the Baldur’s Gate bar exam some time long ago
#its all very tedious I BET#did he chug speed potions to pull all-nighters#ALSO shouldn’t he know not to make deals with the devil without a lawyer present#evidently baldurs gates legal system is in shambles#yelling about how apparently origin astarion can offer to look over wyll’s contract omg#anyways this is for my lawyer friends idk how u guys do this#bg3#baldur’s gate iii#astarion#baldurs gate 3#astarion ancunin#alibonbonn#ali draws
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Dying Star
In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.
You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.
"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."
You think about dead stars.
You think about time.
- - - - - - -
Sam’s words have been weighing heavy on your mind ever since you discussed your shared future and the various forms it could take. You didn’t realize just how heavy they were until it all came spilling out of your tired mind on a late night spent together beneath the stars.
Pairing: Sam x Darlin' / Reader
Word Count: 4,053
Contains: [angst] [a dash of humor] [a hint of chubby!Sam bc i like 'em strong and soft] [crying] [cuddling (dub-con cuddles with Quinn in the past & consensual ones with Sam in the present)] [emotional hurt/comfort] [implied/referenced dub-con sex (nothing graphic) (in the past between Darlin' and Quinn to be specific) (refer to my Ao3 notes for further explanation)] [mentioned Quinn] [not quite Dissociation i guess but Darlin' does zone-out/get lost in thought more than once] [pet names (Darlin' (obvs.) and honey)] [Reader is Darlin'] [Sam wears a cowboy hat bc i said so] [some passive suicidality from Sam if you squint (hell, maybe you don't even have to squint)]
A/Ns: Well, well, well, here I am, the person who said they wouldn't write any Redactedverse fanfic. I recently felt a mighty need to expand upon the blurb I wrote in this post, and I'm braving my fandom anxiety by sharing it here. pls be nice 2 me abt it
Timeline-wise, this fic takes place sometime after the ‘Talking About the Future With Your Vampire Mate’ audio but sometime before their presumed eventual departure from the house that William gave Sam, given that they've already had the 'turning' discussion but are still on the same roof in this fic.
This is a songfic, inspired by and quoting verses from 3 songs. Those being:
‘Dying Star’ by Ashnikko feat. Ethel Cain
‘Fix What You Didn’t Break’ by Nate Smith
‘No Plan’ by Hozier
The roof of Sam’s house is far from a ‘cushy’ place to relax. But as you lie here next to him under the stars, a knowledge settles within you that you wouldn’t trade the rough shingles beneath you for the softest mattress in the world. Not if it meant there’d be anyone other than him lying next to you.
Some people might counter that it’s an easy thing for you to say, given the number of nights you’ve thrown a balled-up shirt onto one end of a worn-out couch and called it a bed. But some people don’t know you as well as they think they do.
You’ve known luxury. Quinn might’ve been just as content taking his fill on a seedy motel bed as he was wrapped in silks at a Hilton, but he knew how to play up the luxe when it served him to do so. And in the early days as he worked to lure you in, it did. Plush sheets and expensive drinks helped to soften the preordained blows and dull the imminent pain that your nights with him held.
Once you’d latched onto the bait though, he let the act drop one piece at a time, like props collapsing on a stage. After all, what was the point in all of those frivolities when you both knew what you really came to him for? It wasn’t to be wined and dined, it wasn’t to be dressed up and shown off, and it wasn’t even to be slowly stripped of it all, laid out across the rolling clouds of a pillowy mattress.
It was to be used. Tranced. Restrained. Bitten. Drank from. Choked. Hit. Edged. Denied. Made to writhe and whine and bleed and plead. Plead for more, for less, for nothing, for anything. Anything to quiet your mind and fill the ever-expanding void inside you where you suspect love was supposed to live.
That’s what you both really wanted.
At least, that’s what you told him you wanted.
That’s what you told yourself.
You only got what you asked for.
To your right, Sam stirs, stretching gently with a yawn. The soft noise he releases as he does so reminds you of where you are, and you trace back through your thoughts to find how you got so lost.
…Right. Luxury.
While your relationship with Quinn certainly changed over time, you never forgot what it felt like in the beginning.
You remember nights laid next to him, body sore, mind quiet. Quinn’s idea of aftercare was lacking to say the least, but you had nothing better to compare it to at the time, and you’d take what you could get. At least your head felt empty, and the bed was soft. Exhaustion would pull you under soon enough.
The mattress, sheets, and pillows enveloping you were likely worth more than you even made that past month. ...Or several. You found that display of luxury hard to be impressed by though, when it wasn’t the type of comfort you’d been seeking.
As Quinn shifted in his presumed sleep, pulling you in tighter, you didn’t fight it. You found yourself unwilling to fight anything he did, like his mere presence was enough to drain the fight right out of you. You told yourself that you were okay with that. Because you wanted it.
Lying there with your head on his bare chest, you took a deep breath and told yourself that you liked the stench of cheap cologne, poorly masking the cigarettes and alcohol on his breath. You silently told yourself that you liked everything. You liked the pain that he chased with hints of pleasure. You liked the loss of power, the way you couldn’t fight back if you wanted to once he looked you in the eyes. You liked all the things he said, no matter how much the truth might hurt.
He was right, you supposed. Your desires, the things you craved, the depravity that you so enjoyed, wasn’t normal. It was uncommon, unusual, and in the eyes of some, unfathomable. To possess such dark desires, there must be something truly broken inside you.
How lucky you were, to have found someone willing to indulge you. Someone that could give you everything you wanted, and be so kind as to keep it a secret too. He promised that word of the things he did to you, the things you let him do, would never get out. You remember the way he held your hand as he told you, falling for the guise of sincerity in his eyes. You remember his warm smile, and his razor sharp teeth.
You remember seeing that exact same smile on his face through one-way glass as he sat across from Sam and told him everything.
You stood in that room and thought back to those nights of luxury. To the feeling of his nails ghosting over the freshly healed punctures in your neck. To the way he held you against him. You remember laying there, lifeless, feeling like prey playing dead. Afraid to move, afraid to disturb him. But why? He hadn’t threatened you. He never told you that you had to stay. He never said that you couldn’t move, or pull away. So why did you feel that way?
As you stood, helplessly witnessing hours of his slander in that interrogation room, you understood. Your rose-tinted glasses had long since shattered, and you saw that smile for what it was. It was the smile of a man playing a dangerous game, brimming with satisfaction, thinking he’d won.
The radio near you begins to crackle, static obscuring the hosts voice as they announce the upcoming song. Sam doesn’t even open his eyes, just raises a hand and reaches out, blindly adjusting the antenna of the old device.
You’ve teased him for holding onto it for so long, as he is wont to do with damn near all of his possessions. But as you watch him deftly extend and angle the antenna with practiced care, the response he once gave you proves itself true once again.
“I don’t wanna replace it, Darlin’. It’s not broken. It just needs someone who knows how to make it sing again.”
The static clears, and music flows through the radio’s old speakers once more.
You watch Sam return his hand to its prior position beneath his head, acting as a makeshift pillow of his own. The way he’s lying has his hat pushed forward, and it’d be doing a damn good job of shielding his face from the sun if it weren’t somewhere around midnight at the moment. Still, it suits him somehow, despite its lack of any practicality. All he’s missing is a stalk of wheat between his teeth and a tree to lean against and he’d be the spitting image of the cowboy he swears he isn’t.
His other hand rests on the soft curve of his stomach, rising and falling again as he breathes. He’s the image of peace in moments like these, and you’re drawn to it like a moth to flame. Maybe one of these days you’ll find some of your own, but for now you’re more than content to bask in his.
As you admire him, he takes a slow, deep breath and you mirror it on instinct. The grounding practice helps you leave your mind and return to your body, if just for a moment. In doing so, you realize just how tense your ruminations have made you.
You relax your hands, releasing the blanket beneath you from your iron grip. You brush your palms over it, worried that you’ve torn the fabric once you realize that your nails had halfway shifted to claws. You don’t fret much over damage to your own possessions, but this blanket is Sam’s and you’d hate to ruin it. Though, you suppose he doesn’t prize it too much or he wouldn’t have laid it out here across the roof in the first place.
“If I buy somethin’ it’s because I wanna use it. Now quit frettin’ and get over here.” You recall what he told you earlier as he patted the blanket next to him in invitation, and you smile.
Doing a small stretch of your own, you release the tension in your shoulders, turning your attention back to the stars above you. For a while, you let the soft music wash over your tired mind.
“I asked him not to kill me politely. He drained my magic core, bottled up at the source. I washed up on the sea glass shores. I’m nobody's captive.”
In spite of your best efforts to relax, you’re still subconsciously futzing with the loose threads of the old blanket beneath you.
You’re made aware of it when Sam reaches a hand down, gently laying it over yours and effectively stilling your anxious motion.
“Burning like a dying star, invasive weeds rooted in my heart, set in a crooked trajectory. The journey here was hard, I was almost pulled apart. Trying to leave his orbit took what’s left of me.”
You flip your hand over beneath his so you can hold it properly, lacing your fingers together.
For reasons beyond your understanding, emotion tightens your throat, the threat of tears pooling in your eyes.
…You must be more tired than you thought.
As minutes pass and one song fades into another, your gaze dances across the blurry, scattered points of light in the dark sky.
“You were the star in the pitch black, shine the way on the way back. Out of nowhere, answered all my prayers.”
Sam’s always been so much better at identifying stars and finding constellations. But as the music plays, you begin to see one of your own.
“Picked up the towel that I threw in, took in a heart that was ruined. Showed me the past ain’t a tattoo, loved me even when you didn’t have to.”
“Sam.” You squeeze his hand to get his attention.
He squeezes back in acknowledgment. “Hm?”
“I want you to look at something.” You swallow back the emotion that tries to seep into your voice, but it catches his attention all the same.
He leans up and lifts his hat from his head, setting it aside near the radio. He then reaches to turn a dial back, lowering the music’s volume to give you his full attention.
You release his hand, raising yours up as he turns back to face you. You don’t say anything at first, nearly too lost in your own mind to realize you need to actually voice your developing thoughts.
"What—what're you pointin' at Darlin'?"
Your hazy focus is trained on the brightest star visible in your line of sight, arm stretched out to the sky above you. "That really bright one, to the... to the left."
Sam does his best to follow your less-than-specific directions of 'to the left', your pointed finger doing little to help given the difference in perspective. Luckily, after all these years, he knows this stretch of night sky like the back of his hand, so it isn't hard to locate the brightest one. Ghosting his fingers up along your exposed wrist where your sleeve had slipped back, he takes your hand in his again and brings it back down to earth. "Okay, yeah, I see it now. What about it though?"
"That's you." You say, matter-of-factly.
"That's me?" He questions, humor in his tone.
"Mhm." You nod with finality, blinking slow.
Sam considers the odd statement for a moment before gently correcting you. "I'm uh, I'm pretty sure that's Sirius, actually."
You scoff. "I am being serious."
Sam stifles a laugh. "No—no I mean—like... what's another name for it... Oh, it's also called the Dog Star."
"C'mon Sam, at least call it the Wolf Star if you're trying to turn this around on me..."
He shakes his head and readies himself to explain further, but you cut him off before he can start. "But no. No, this isn't about me. That's you."
He decides to play along, finding something endearing in your overtired nonsense. "Okay... then would'ja be so kind as to explain to this confused old man just how, or why that star is me?"
Your frown is audible in your voice as you latch onto the wrong part of his sentence. "You're not old, Sam. ...Do I need to tell Asher to kick the jokes down a notch?"
He smiles at your over-protectivity. "There'll be no need for that, now. Was just a joke, honey, I promise."
You huff, but begrudgingly shift focus back to the prior topic. "It's... I dunno. It's just you, Sam. It's... bright. Light. Something warm, out there in the cold dark. Standing out amongst all the rest. Calling to me, stealing my attention.”
Sam’s brow furrows as you continue to explain, realization setting in that you really are being serious.
“I... I didn't come out here looking for it, but there it is. ...And there you were. In the dark. The only bright thing I'd seen in... fuck, in years. Years of chasing fleeting warmth, tripping over myself in the pitch black, falling into... places and people that I shouldn't have. You were the light in that darkness. Even there, at Wonderworld, surrounded by the ghost of him. Your warmth, your presence, your aura—even with all of your walls up, you outshone it. Your warmth didn't hurt. I didn't have to squint when I looked at you. You weren't the blinding sun. You were the brightest star I'd ever seen. You guided me home."
In the back of your mind, you recall something you once heard, something about light, and time, and distance. Space. Something about... how you can still see a star that's already burnt out, because its light hasn't reached earth yet. The ghost of a star that's already died. Only still perceptible thanks to time, and distance.
You remember Sam's words, once whispered to you on this very roof.
"Whatever your choice is... I'm not gonna live forever. I made that decision a long time ago."
You think about dead stars.
You think about time.
"...-lin'? Darlin'?" Sam's calloused hand squeezes yours tight, his urgent tone pulling you out of your thoughts. "There you are. Think I lost ya' for a minute there... you good?"
You look up at Sam, concern creasing his features, faint shadows cast across his face from the light of the dying stars above him.
You reach out, pulling him down into you. He falters for a moment at the sudden proximity, but quickly embraces you in turn. Burying your face into his collar, Sam's concern grows when he feels it saturate with tears. A human might struggle to hear your words, muffled against the thick flannel, but his hearing catches them just fine.
"Don't burn out too quickly. Please. I still need you here. I don't—I don't wanna be left in the dark again. Please, please Sam. Don't leave me here. I'm not selfish enough to ask you for forever, but please. Not yet. Not yet. Not yet."
The words feel like a weight being lifted from your shoulders, but with it comes a flood of emotion they’d been holding back. You cry harder into him, and as much as it pains Sam to witness, he lets you feel it, for as long as you need.
Your fear of losing him manifests itself physically, nails curling and sharpening again. When he feels them prick his skin through the fabric of his shirt, he calls your name but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans further down into you, letting his weight ground you. “Darlin’, I am right here. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
As you eventually cry yourself out, enough wherewithal returns to you to realize that you should probably release the poor man from your grasp, and the awkward position you pulled him into. When he pulls away enough to see your face, you notice a string of snot running from your nose to his shirt collar. Quickly batting it away out of embarrassment, you cringe, voice thick as you apologize. “Eugh, gross. Uh… sorry. About that.”
He shakes his head, laughing good-naturedly as you wipe at your nose with your jacket sleeve. “It’s completely fine, honey. After all, I’ve been covered in plenty of your, uh… various fluids before. When you come from my line of work, this is child’s play.”
He leans to his right, reaching back and pulling—of all things—a handkerchief from his jeans’ left back pocket. You laugh at his words, and at the sight, but with how congested you are it turns into more of a hacking cough than anything. Accepting his offering, you blow your nose into the black patterned fabric.
As soon as you can speak somewhat clearly, you can’t stop the teasing remark that slips out of you, gesturing with the wad of fabric in your hand. “You know, you really aren’t beating the cowboy allegations with stuff like this.”
He rolls his eyes but his soft smile remains. “It’s a practical thing to have on me, ‘allegations’ be damned.”
You shake your head with a smile of your own, but don’t disagree. As you’re visibly unsure what to do with the dirtied fabric, he takes it from you, setting it aside. “I’ll toss it in the wash when we go back inside. Along with my shirt, and…” He eyes you for a moment. “…that jacket of yours too, given how long you’ve probably been wearin’ it.”
Normally you’d argue that it hasn’t been that long, but come to think of it, you actually can’t recall when you last washed the thing.
Reaching up and rubbing your temples, you already regret your crying fit as a headache begins to set in. “Fuck, Sam... I’m sorry for… whatever that just was. I don’t know what came over me.”
His expression falls into something serious again. “You never need to apologize for feeling. And it certainly seems like… you needed to feel that.”
You nod quietly, but don’t elaborate, prompting him to question you gently. “Darlin’. What was that about? The—the askin’ me not to leave. Are you… afraid that I’m gonna leave you?”
You close your eyes, weighing out your response. “…Not in the sense that you’ll break up with me or something, no.”
His gaze narrows and his head tilts as he rolls your answer over in his mind. “If it ain’t that, then—” He remembers how you mentioned ‘forever’ and cuts himself off as the puzzle pieces start coming together. “Oh. …Oh, Darlin’, no.”
You open your eyes to watch as he shifts from leaning next to you, moving to sit up beside you. “Is this about what I told you, when we sat up here and had our uh… turning discussion?”
You hate to admit it, but you nod in confirmation. “…It’s your choice, Sam, and I never want to take that away from you. I shouldn’t have said what I just did, I—I don’t want to make you feel guilty, or like you have to stick around for my sake. But I’d be lying to you if I said it hasn’t been playing on my mind. The thought of you… leaving. Like that.”
He reaches up, running a hand through his hair. “I… think I maybe should’ve been a bit more clear, when I said that. Because I wasn’t talking about any time soon. I didn’t want to give you the false impression that I plan on sticking around for centuries, but… I also wasn’t trying to imply that I’ve got plans to do it next week either.”
You bolt upright, voice cracking. “Next week?! I sure as shit hope not!” You grab your head, pain flaring and suddenly dizzy from the quick shift in position.
He places a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “I’m not, honey, I’m not. Did you catch the rest of my sentence? I’ve got no plans to leave this world any time soon. I promise.”
You groan, head pounding. “I heard you, I did, I just—fuck, I don’t even wanna think about you leaving so soon. Here I am, stressing, thinking I’ve only got—I don’t know—some odd years left with you, and…” You sigh, trailing off.
Sam stays quiet for a minute, letting the crickets sing.
Eventually, he interrupts their chorus. “…Can I get closer to you?”
You nod. “…Please.”
He closes the gap between you, carefully wrapping a strong arm around your curled shoulders. “You’ve got way more than a couple years. I promise you that.” Your tension begins to ease a bit as he clarifies. “You… you’ve helped me find a life that I actually feel like livin’ again, for the first time in a long time. And I want to experience it with you for as long as I can.”
“…Really?” Your voice sounds so small, so unsure, so… unlike you when you question him that he wants to kick himself in his own ass for the role he unintentionally played in making you feel this way.
“Yes. Really. I mean—” His voice takes on an edge of humor. “If you decide to set your sights on the year 3,000…” He shakes his head. “I don’t know about that. But as far as the 21st century is concerned? …I think I’d like to see it through. For as long as you’re there to see it with me.”
His words cause fresh tears to well up in your eyes, and you sniff in an attempt to hold them back. The sound catches his attention, and he leans forward, thumbing across your warm cheek. “…I’m makin’ you cry again…”
You shake your head, clearing your throat. “No—No, it’s okay. It’s good. They’re… they’re good. It’s… relief.”
He breathes out a relieved sigh of his own. “Yeah?”
You nod, leaning into him. “Yeah.”
As you rest against each other, breathing in the cool night air, you nudge him with your shoulder. “Can we… lay back? For a bit?”
He squeezes your arm in gentle confirmation. “Of course.”
He twists and reaches back to straighten the wrinkled blanket beneath you, before laying out across it himself. The radio crackles as he turns the volume back up a bit. Watching him with tired eyes, you smile at the sight of him patting his chest in habitual invitation.
“Sit in and watch the sunlight fade. Honey, enjoy, it’s gettin’ late. There’s no plan. There’s no hand on the reign. As Mack explained, there will be darkness again.”
Curling up against his side and laying your head on his chest, you release a heavy sigh when his hand comes up to rest on your shoulder. As his fingers press rhythmically into the tense muscle beneath them, you breathe in his scent. Black coffee and wildflower honey… he smells like home.
“Your secret is safe with me, and if secrets were like seeds, when I’m lyin’ under marble, marvel at flowers you’ll have made.”
You reach your hand out across his broad chest, slipping beneath his open flannel and sliding down to rest on his waist. He sighs, relaxing further beneath your touch.
“My heart is thrilled by the still of your hand. That’s how I know now that you understand.”
Yeah, you’ll take this over ‘luxury’ any damn day.
“There’s no plan. There’s no race to be run.”
Laying there with him, listening to the low hum of the radio, the moment grows so comfortable that you almost hesitate to break it.
“The harder the pain, honey, the sweeter the song.”
“…Sam?” You whisper into the night.
His hand sweeps across your back before returning to your shoulder. “I’m here, Darlin’.”
“There’s no plan. There’s no kingdom to come.”
You smile. “I… I’d like to be there, to be here, to see it through with you, too.”
It takes him a moment to recall exactly what you’re referring to, but when it hits him he hums a low understanding tone, clearly pleased. “Then let’s see where it takes us, yeah?”
“But I’ll be your man if you got love to get done.”
He presses a soft kiss to your temple. “We’ve got plenty a’ time.”
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed. You can find my extensive notes and commentary on this fic right here on Ao3. My Sam & Darlin' Playlist My Sam Playlist My Darlin' Playlist My Sam & Darlin' Moodboard My Sam Moodboard My Darlin' Moodboard Header Image Credit: Gage Smith on Unsplash
#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted sam#redacted darlin#redacted fanfic#redacted fandom#sam collins#samuel collins#redacted tank#fanfiction#fanfic#my writing#one of my last Redacted posts didn't make it into the tags. which wasn't a big deal since it wasn't something important#but i spent some real time and effort on this fic so if tumblr yeets This post into the void i Will cry. and then painstakingly repost it#i've got big feelings about Sam and y'all r gonna see it whether u like it or not /lh#anyways hey this fic was unexpected. and much like Midnight Hour the production time was relatively fast thanks to the power of Fixation#i was gonna post the next chapter of Heaven in Hiding and then work on a Boothill oneshot and then maybe the [N]MbD New Year's fic#but i've been feeling Some Kinda Way lately and i guess i needed to project it onto Sam. so this fic took precedence#i humbly offer my first contribution to the Redacted fandom. pls don't attack me if they're OOC /hj#i'm out here doing my best to walk the line between canon compliance and self-indulgence#also i know that bright thing in the header image i used can't be Sirius. it's gotta be like. a planet i think? not sure which one tho#i've never even seen a planet that bright but my sky isn't all that dark so maybe they Can look that bright in some places#idk. the image description on Unsplash doesn't say. but 'planet' is in the tags so that's my guess#the only thing i've seen be that bright in the night sky 'round here is military flares. but maybe it's to do with how the photo was taken#a n y w a y s point is. the star Darlin' sees isn't That bright but the photo was too fitting not to use
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what if i offered u head & in return u gave me a massage?
#is tht a good deal idk#i just wna giv head but#my thighs r rly sore today i need fixing#i could giv u one back if u prefer that over my offer
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mona’s self liner notes for fukutsu no idol!
This song was the first of my new songs to be released. I sang it with many thoughts and feelings about everyone I know and everything I’ve gone through up till now in mind. I really love the MV and my costume too. I did fret about how well the song would be received, but I was really happy to receive many comments about how excited people were for my album♡
#yesssss just as expected~~~~~ zakenna’s tomorrow then~~~ hoping for direct mitsuki refs go!!!!!#‘w e l l ackshually chozetsukawaii came first but if we count the koishiteru album whipped cream was first—’ shush u mona’s word is ✨law✨#she’s so right though the mv for fukutsu no idol is g o r g e o u s#the utamonamikoto date image in the mv was super cute too~~ as was the mitsumona moments~~#it’s a real pity that uta and mikoto didnt show up in the omaemo mv though…#then again we all know that they dont even need to offer treasures to mona to win her over~~ no. 2 monacas fr (no. 1 is sena ofc)#mona’s self liner notes 2: extra cute boogaloo#narumi mona#(hmmmm. thinking of compiling these in an image collection once all 10 songs have been released tbh. we shall see~)#(i say 10 bc idt the bonus truck will be featured in these lmao. sisxlove didnt get self liner notes either sooooo)#(hm. well. thoughts about stuff like that is future me’s problem ig… that loser can deal with the decisions + typesetting + stuff lmaoooo)#(thou g h im thinkin of hitting the town tomorrow to pick up more manga… maybe i’ll get to see mona album in the wild again… just kidding~)#(guess that’s another decision for future me to make~~~~~~~~)
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Hello everyone! My commissions are open now!
I had to raise my prices bc the world is cruel and I’ve always undersold myself, art takes me longer to make now! I hope you understand!
Let me know if you have any questions! Thank you for the support always 💘
#I always offer sales/deals during certain times of year so look out for that!#even though I think the prices are reasonable I still get unltra nervous about charging so much#I hope u all understand!#if u wanna negogiate prices im open to it Ofcourse I may be completely wrong#commissions open#commissions
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YOU SELECTED: SHIRT DRESS
phew, that was close huh? looks like i better get button shopping! with this pick, it feels like we are already getting into the home straight with this design- the structure is set, and we are onto cosmetic details now. so first up, sleeves!
for the sake of not having too many options per poll (i have NO idea what im gonna do if we tie anywhere down the road) im splitting sleeves up into two rounds. the first one is purely to decide the length of the sleeve. the next poll will deal with the design, if its straight/puff etc.
ive generalised the lengths here a bit, ill do the fine tuning when the whole design is put together! also no full length option simply because i dont want one- i know if i do full length ill wear it far less (or just roll them up)
No propaganda here, just a quick elaboration on what the length categories mean :)
No Sleeves: could cover anything from mid shoulder to where the sleeve seam sits (directly up from the crease of the armpit)
Grown On Sleeve: technically this isnt a length but it felt like it fit better here than anywhere else- grown on sleeves are a style of sleeve where, instead of it being a separate piece with a seam, the sleeve is cut as part of the blouse pattern piece- its pretty straight forward. they can also be known as kimono sleeves. if i did do this i would be doing a pretty short length, probably no more than level with the armpit. (theres a couple images of them in the last post, def the ivory with the patterned collar & the green dot one. its not always easy to tell, but they do have a unique silhouette in the way they drape and fold around where a seam would be. i think they bring enough to the table to be considered)
Short Sleeve: around tshirt length! from level with the armpit to 3ish inches above the elbow
Elbow Length: clues in the name! somewhere between an inch above and a couple below the elbow- i think itll probably be in the bend of the elbow or above, looking at how much this fabric has creased being folded
#WAY more on grown on sleeves than anything else but i figured. its sleeve length u understand#but that i might need to explain their deal#ive never done a grown on sleeve but i was seeing them everywhere in my research. i think theyre maybe cute? as a short sleeve anyway#mostly no propaganda bc i worry my bias will show lol. purely sleeve FACTS here#(i mean i dont put anything on i wont wear. i am god of this game. but also i do think i have a preference on this one)#sewing#design#crafting#dress making#pattern making#polls#vintage fashion#sewist#theres gonna be at least three more rounds here- probably 4 but. im unsure at what point to stop breaking it down.#when does this stop being fun#(bc as i said above. i dont wanna offer too many options per poll so like. i could make two more on the sleeves if i wanted to.#but does anyone even care about the Smaller details. i dont knowwwww)
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lowkey obsessed with the dynamic between triss and mystra
#triss hates the gods in general#triss chafes under ANY authority but particularly the gods#they've never done anything for her (v similar to astarion's feelings about them)#and after dealing with quite a few of them during the campaign she's just like fuck u guys *steals all the offerings at stormshore*#and not to mention all of the shit she put gale through#triss is very protective of him where mystra is involved (and just in general)#but also triss is technically in mystra's domain given her sorcery and use of magic#but also triss' use of it is very anachronistic vs a majority of magic users#triss basically 'steals' bits of weave to serve her purpose#and i can see mystra both being annoyed by her and having a respect for her because triss made her magic her own#i've got this post-campaign plot running around in my head lately re: restoring karlach's heart and i lowkey want mystra to reach out to#triss during it for reasons so i can flesh out how they feel aboute ach other more#oc: triss#emily.txt
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Having to say “I’m a big girl I can buy my own weed” is not a conversion I ever expected to have with my mother but here we are
#mom I’m 27#I can but my own weed#she was saying she can get me deals and it’s like#I appreciate the offer. however do you know how uncool that makes me feel#are u gonna pay for my tattoos and give me a candy for being brave for the needle too#IM A GROWN ADULT#I also use gorl loosely here
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smth abt eddie telling dustin to look after the little sheep -> s5 is going to return to s1 form -> dustin tells mike in s1 that his obliviousness blows his mind -> the whole painting & confession & obvious general fiasco that is willelmike -> dustin's going to have to put on his bob the builder / "the world is full of obvious things which nobody by any chance ever observes" sherlock holmes hat and get involved
#byler#do i think he's going to go “Dude You Are GAYYYYYYYYY”? no. but i do think he'd go “🤨 why are u guys being weird.” in some way which is#what tips over the first domino in the series of events#maybe . wishful thinking? mayhaps . but im Free#i also wouldnt be opposed to steve saying smth to jonathan which makes him go 🤨😳😦🫢#but i think ppl very much downplay dustin's role in the group and the support he offers his friends and how observant and “nosy” he is#and things are going to be much different now if they continue like how we left off ... so u don't think dustin would notice?#and u don't think tht he'd say something? esp when he had to deal with mike being an el stan + his obliviousness to others and their#jealousy over him? especially with him now being the character tht everyone wishes would shut up lmao? or with how#close he was to mike before he went to cali and how he had to take his place in his absence?#there's a million ways it could to obvi and i really don't have an expectation any which way but .#with tht latest least fave poll........ it jus made me think abt how a lot of people jus . really forget he exists#which is so crazy bc he stays in everyones business LMAO#but anyway .#she be rambling#and on mobile top so u already know im not rereading this if its incoherent its incoherent 🤷♀️#omg the typos... >_> you guys know wht i Mean .#mine#s5 predictions
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okay I severely misjudged spaghetti guy he’s actually just really cool
#okay so I came to this flat and he wasn’t here. greeted by a very dirty flat with shit all over the kitchen counters over cling film#I meet first my other flatmate who told me he stays in his room constantly bc of previous bad flatmates#has literally just a saucepan and some salt in the kitchen. so I’m like okay spaghetti guy potentially not great but could just be#how this guy is yknow#on Tuesday I get an email back saying he’s coming back from Norway tonight looking forward to seeing you feel free to use the kitchen sauces#rlly friendly message that I wasn’t expecting. I also didn’t know he’d been on a trip i just knew he wasn’t there bc his door was open#(to a REALLY nice room. multiple rlly nice plants (which he has little care labels for!!!) and it’s tidy and pretty#and he’s got a sheep teddy on the bed)#meanwhile I am in my own head bc I don’t wanna cook in the kitchen until I can clean it and I can’t clean it without moving his shit and#I haven’t seen him yet to talk abt it and I can’t bring myself to talk to him immediately bc I’m dying#and embarrassed as hell by how I’ve been cooking in my room with a microwave and air fryer (loud) and sneaking my shit out of the kitchen#but then yesterday I DO talk to him!! and he’s super friendly!! actually interested in having a conversation and Good at it.#and then he’s cooking and like. spaghetti burns but I’m not there for long and seems to be a mistake (he made the same thing for lunch today#and did Not burn the spaghetti) and is otherwise clearly competent bc the food smells Good and despite leaving a few things out it’s like#washed up stuff isn’t dirty and the sides are better despite still under cling film. more a case that he’s spread out than he’s messy#and now today we talked and i offered to hold onto some shit over summer bc complicated situation that boils down to he’s flying back home#and he cant take all his stuff and had to choose between chucking stuff/having literally nothing this weekend. like sleeping on the sofa etc#and then cleans the whole flat?? which I’m assuming a good chunk is his mess? but he did not need to do that. could’ve easily left#bc there are two people still living here who would’ve had to deal with it and he doesn’t know either at all#and THEN tonight we talk abt food which is fun bc we both ordered stuff. and he offers me some honeydew melon bc he’s been gorging himself#these past two days to finish it before it goes bad/he leaves which is also really sweet#and JUST NOW. I take my headphones out after finishing dinner and hear the sweetest fucking guitar#he plays the gentlest like dreamy sounding acoustic guitar I’ve heard in my life in his room (door closed by the time I leave)#this is actually just a really cool dude#now that the kitchens clear I’m gonna cook tomorrow and will probably offer him some bc otherwise he’s gonna be eating out all weekend#he has extra takeout for tomorrow night but might want smth Sunday#regardless I am just. huh??? left a bit stunned bc of the u turn my opinion of this guy has taken. bc my opinion of him was a reflection#of my discomfort moving to this weird dirty basement flat with two people I didn’t know#well. idk where to go from here. I think I’ll start by talking to him more this weekend. bc holy fucking shit.#luke.txt
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ok I'm literally only a half hour from the end of my shift before I can go properly crazy but I would LOVE giant text blocks about how powers/triggers are related. ive been trying to figure it out so hard and I've got NOTHING other than like. vague guesses?????????? i know it has to do with the situation they're in and those. circumstances kind of dictate how the powers manifest but I CANT FIGURE OUT THE REASONS WHY certain things turn out the way they do !!!!!!!!!!!!! augh!!!!!!! (it doesnt fucking help that a solid 80% of the last trigger events I've seen were CAULDRON CAPES WHICH DONT COUNT !!!!!!! BECAUSE THEIR POWERS ARE ALREADY DETERMINED BY THE SERUM KINDA. I THINK. AUGH.)
ok current thoughts are like. i think it has to do with their state of mind when the trigger happens?? taylors was. disgusting + thinking about infection and gross and whatever. and bugs are those things. Brian's I specifically remember him saying something like he was so angry that he felt emotionless? for his first trigger at least. for his second trigger ik he said he was thinking about taylor but that still fucks me up it's silly to me so I'm not counting it. I thought for sure trickster was gonna trigger while they were running away from simurgh + the feeling that they were never gonna get away or they couldn't get away fast enough would manifest as his teleportation? but now that I know that's not the case I'm back to square 1 where I'm like idfk how any of this works. worm ceo give me your text blocks please ily. I've been thinking about mark winters for 2 hours I need help
OK. OK. TEXT BLOCKS WILL BE INCOMING IN UR INBOX!!! & also like, you're literally right, u just need to come at it from like, a marginally different angle. 45 degree angle instead of 30 degree. <333
#IF UR SURE. like. triple checking because i WILL be eliding some stuff for Reasons but this is still like. mm. kind of one of the secret#/spoiler things immanent to the universe? i really don't think it's a huge deal i think i'd already looked it up on the wiki by now. which#is why i'm offering. BUT. if ur a purist. u will eventually find out like... allusions to this stuff in canon in like five arcs or so LMAO#mac tag!#GOOD LUCK BTW. HALF AN HOUR !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#wormposting
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#god i have such a migraine i Rly do not need to be dealing w my mother's bullshit tonight#yes yeah lets go on a rant abt how much u hate having me around bc im disabled and cant do things myself#and rn can barely get out of bed let alone make food for myself#so u *offered* to make me dinner and when i accepted that offer and asked for a safe food so i wouldnt set off my other health issues#u threw a Fit bc it takes more than 10 mins to make and now ur storming around huffing and puffing#and going on abt how ur apparently my slave and i take advantage of u#...whaT?#i didnt ask u to do anything. u offered. and since then i've told u 4 times to just forget it nvm i'll skip dinner#but bc u know i have severe blood sugar issues and that would be bad for me u r now claiming ur 'trapped' doing this#aight#ok#just cut the shit and tell me u think im a burden and h8 me for existing#and that ur mother was right when she said i ruined ur life by being born the way i am#im so so tired of this fucking bullshit dance u keep doing#i get it u wish i was either normal or dead#sadly i am not. but ur truly making me consider the latter option these days jfc#ughhshshsjdj#ableism#ask to tag#fr tell me and i'll tag this w w/e u need i dont wanna trigger ppl w her nonsense#im too tired to even consider all the applicable tags rn#but just lmk
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new shoes btw.
#i couldnt resist 😔#also YES i know theyre the high tops and not the low tops but these were the best deal i could get in my size#im gonna wear these at the hollywood bowl heehee#the best part is that all my life ive heard converse suck and that they don't offer any support and arent made well#BUT NOW that i have a pair. THEY'RE SO COMFY??? SO SOFT AND WELL MADE??#these shoes r so fun i love them. thank u russell for influencing me to make a good purchase
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@xluciifer sent ── BITES >:3
A CHOMP , like a small dog , gnawing at limbs. zestial seems unphased , head turning to peer down at him. " your majesty , " a pause , devious grin growing further. " i typically confine such matters to the bedchamber. " a rattle of echoing laughter , " hast i not bestowed upon thee sufficient heed ? "
#xluciifer#he SAID buddy u dont wanna do this#fuckin chewsday ...#i keep reading heed as head too but i promise he isn't offering head#hes just asking if he didnt give him enough attention#* ── dealing in your secrets. : inbox.
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