#idk if that makes sense but i hope it helps :)

[folkloreintime]

Vamplor. - Taylor Swift x Reader Smut

Vampire!Taylor x female reader smut

warnings: smut, fem!reader oral (r!receiving), vampires, biting, mild blood play, amnesia(kinda??)

summary: Vamplor takes you back to her house and her intentions are very clear.

word count: 1.5k

A/N: not me being back the vamplor pull was just too strong lmaoo. I might do a part 2 of this where vamplor feeds on reader but pls lemme know if u want it or not bc it might be too freaky idk. Hope you enjoy! - pris

You could barely recall the recent events of this morning, a bad sleep turned into a bad morning which turned into an even worse day so when the sun set and you lazily walked your way back home, the local bar didn’t look so bad, its dim glow seeming much more enticing than the cold icy walls of your apartment, it seemed like an adequate end to the day.

However, now you were sitting in a room, two deep red glasses of wine sat at the table in front of you, the tall ceilings seemed like they could go on forever but the walls were ensconced in black as if they were trying to trap you. Memories, flashes of red lips and sultry whispers came back to you, a woman flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder laughing coyly, her face hidden from your gaze. You took a deep breath and turned towards the door. Nobody entered and you wondered if you should leave. It almost felt illegal, quietly tiptoeing towards the door and just before you turned the handle it burst open.

“Not leaving are you, Sweetness?” Her red lips pouted as she salaciously leaned on the door frame, essentially blocking you in. “No. I’m just…” The words fell short in your mouth because you didn’t actually know what you were doing here but the intrigue of the woman before you was enough to make you stay. “We were at the bar?” you questioned trying to piece together what little information you had. “Yes,” she chuckled, “We came here after the bar, the night is still young, so why waste it?” Her tall figure stepped into the room.

“Sit. We were having such a good conversation,” she gestured with a flick of her hand and you immediately felt yourself complying with her commands as if she had willed it so, “Oh… did someone make a mess?” She mocked you, shaking her head dismissively as you both looked at the wine now dripping unceremoniously on the floor, you didn’t even hear it fall, the silence in the room was deafening, only the sound of your breath and the creaking footsteps as she moved around you remained, just close enough where you could sense the air as she moved through it but not close enough to touch.

She handed you a rag and knelt to the floor with you, her blonde hair framed her face, the moonlight from the open window shone like stage lights illuminating her like a crowd pleaser. “Go on, Y/N. Clean up your mess.” her eyes darkened, the silhouette of her black lacy corset tightened against her pale skin as she leaned forward with intense eye contact. You began to soak up what liquid you could, the rag absorbing the fluid, now stained with red like an open wound. The small piece of cloth was doing very little to clean it up, sloshing the liquid back and forth making an even bigger mess, you sat up a little, almost admitting defeat when the woman piped up. “Need help?” it would have sounded sincere if not for her quirked up brow and loose smile on her lips . She cupped her hands on top of yours and you gasped. She was ice cold, shivers traveled up and down your spine and you didn’t move an inch.

She began to move her hands, moving yours with them. Left. Right. Left. Right. It was antagnosingly slow, and each time she stopped her grip on your

hands tightened ever so slightly. Her eyes studied you so intensely, you felt shy under her gaze, wholly exposed and unable to utter a word for fear she might just get up and leave. Suddenly, she stopped. “You can’t clean up your mess properly, Sweetness.” she tutted, both of your hands were stained red, the scent of mulled berries infiltrated your senses. “I’m sorry.” You looked away in shame, it seemed like the longer you spent with her the more shy you became.

“Sorry isn’t good enough, Y/N. You disrespected my company.” She stood, towering above you. “I’ll make it up to you.” Your voice was small now, looking at her through your eyelashes, she smoothed out her corset. “I guess I’ll just have to make a mess of you.” She grabbed your jaw, harshly raising your head so your eyes could meet. Her smirk was more sinister now, her blue eyes almost became black like the walls. “Stand.” she demanded.

Her cold hands clenched either side of your face and she leaned in, lips merely inches apart and where her breath should fan your face, there was none. She crashed her lips into yours, they moved around each other like an electric dance. She took your bottom lip into her mouth and sucked whilst you brought your hands to pull her closer. She stopped. “I didn’t say you could touch.” You breathed out, a little shocked. She grabbed you by the shoulders and pushed you down onto the chaise lounge underneath the window. The moon casting its light onto her enshrouded face. Sweeping your hair to one side, she let the strap of your dress fall onto your shoulder. She traced lines from your upper jaw to chest with her black painted fingernails. You closed your eyes and listened to the sound of your heartbeat.

She knelt between your knees, her height making her level with you and laid kisses on your jaw, intermittently enveloping your mouth in a searing kiss. She moved down to your neck and started to suckle and kiss just above your pulse point. You closed your eyes in bliss, a small moan escaping. Suddenly, you felt a sharp pinch and your eyes shot open. “Sorry, got ahead of myself.” She laughed, throwing her head back, exposing sharp fangs overtop those full red lips.

A wave of nausea crashed over you as your breathing became rapid and shallow. The fear was palpable in the air but your lust and temptation still lingered. You recalled her electric energy in the bar, hanging on to her every word, bringing yourself closer just to feel what it’s like to be in her presence, letting a potentially dangerous woman have you? Would it be worth it?

Her long fingers grasped onto your waist as she slowly pushed you flat on the lounge chair. Now fully at her mercy, she pulled down the neck of your shirt as if it was greatly inconveniencing her, exposing your breasts to the air. She took one nipple into her mouth and lightly began to suck, your head rolled to the side and a moan fluttered its way from your throat. Her suckling turned into tiny bites, the thrill of knowing her sharp teeth could break the skin at any moment made the seconds go painstakingly slow.

Her actions became rougher and sloppier as she made her way down your body, stopping incrementally to leave a kiss or run her polar fingers through your hair, staring deeply into your eyes. Her blonde hair tickled the space between your thighs and her solid stature was the only reminder that she was even there. She leaned in and you jolted out of fear. “You scared of me, Sweetness?” She pouted, genuinely waiting for an answer. “No, I don’t think so.” You answered honestly as not trusting the womanly creature with her head in between your legs right now wouldn’t be very apt. “Good, because I’m about to be,” Her tongue made contact with your pussy, “Very mean right now.” she whispered.

The noises that erupt from your mouth sound wrecked and earth shattering as she begins a languid dance upon you. Her tongue lays flat against you before her mouth is hastily sucking your clit into her mouth, the whiplash of events making your head spin. She thrusts her tongue in, holds for a second and then pulls back. There’s a sheen to her supple lips, the red lipstick is a little smeared but the glint of hazy lust so intense in her eyes is enough to fuel both of you on. She spits on your pussy, a sultry whine leaves your mouth. Then she dives right back in continuing her machinations and the white hot pleasure begins to peak as you clasp a hand to the back of her head.

She laughs, the sound vibrating against you, bringing you to the crux. A million little stars fill your vision as her tongue furiously pushes against your pussy, the breath from your lungs punches the air and sweat beads on your forehead. Then she drags her teeth across to your thigh and bites. You almost ignite as cries flurry their way to the surface with every pulse of your clit. She moans for the first time and there's something off about the nonessential breath she lets out.

She rears her head up, the small red dribble coming from her mouth alarms you. You press against the small wound, red staining your fingertips, and slowly push them into her mouth. She takes them with no questions asked, leeching every droplet she can take. She releases your fingers and kisses your cheek, her hand cupping your neck.

“I think I might have to keep you forever.” She says, tilting her head.

“And you are?” You ask.

“Taylor, Sweetness.”

end.

[guiltysungho]

— Mona lisa

genre : tags. fluff, childhood crush, class clown x class president

pairing. high school classmate!woonhak x gn!reader

wordcount. 1110

a/n. we are so back!! i hope y’all like this. idk how often ill be writing here cause school but feedback is always appreciated as usual.

@onedoornet

It was time for english class, one of the few classes you enjoyed, and yet you weren’t rushing in the same direction as your classmates. The echoing siren of the school bell resounded through the halls around you as you stared at your hand firmly locked in his grip, letting the force pulling you forward drag you along further.

With the sudden silence in the air, you brought your feet to a stop and pulled your hand out of his. Honestly, you wanted to yell at him but that would only put you in more trouble. You stood face to face in the stairwell, while you kept your eyebrows furrowed with a slight pout in your lips, he couldn’t help but smile at his accomplishment.

Before you could turn your back to make your way back to your class, his hand met yours once again. Now all your face reflected was worry. You glanced at your hands watching as his fingers slipped in between your fingers, holding onto you.

“Trust me” you looked up at him with the sound of those words, he smiled softly, the same smile you had seen throughout your school years, and somehow this time it felt different.

You gave him a quick nod, pushing all your anxious thoughts behind and letting him guide you into his world, the same way you had done for him.

Once you finally reached the storage room you felt his grip loosen, and through it seemed like the normal thing to do, you felt it in your chest like a stab in your heart. The more you tried to act like you weren’t thinking about it, as you watched him move things around, trying to unlock the window as quickly as possible, the more you found yourself realizing that you didn’t just like the feeling of his hand squeezing your knuckles.

Tutoring the Kim Woonhak wasn’t a good nor a bad thing, he wasn’t a lost cause but he wasn’t interested either. Most days you’d stay behind in class together, he’d have his seat backwards while facing you, then he’d ask about your day, and it never stopped there. With all the preparations you had done, mentally and concretely, he would always find a way to make you talk, and you never really wanted to stop because you never really got to talk anywhere else.

“You know, you have a really soothing voice. Like whenever you’re called up to read out I try to stay awake just to listen to you.” he said that once, while you were lecturing him on pronunciation. You stared at him for a while after that, a mix of embarrassment and relief bubbling in your belly.

The only constant would be the work you would give him to have done for the next session, which he always did, you would let him talk to you while you corrected his answers. You weren’t sure how you got to the point of skipping class with him but that was where you were now.

Did it even make sense to fall for your classmate on the last day of high school? You shook the idea out of your head, you lost your chance, if you ever had one to begin with.

“I’m going to go first, it’ll be easier to help you out from outside.” he told you as you stood by the half open window, he could see your weariness and placed a hand on your head patting gently.

“Do we have to do this?”

“Of course not, but where’s the fun in that?” You hadn’t realized you were holding on to the corner of his shirt till he took your hand off gently, holding onto it carefully, “I promise you’ll feel better once this part is over.”

So you watched him climb out the window, keeping guard incase of any trouble. Before you knew it he was out and it was your turn.

“Be careful y/n. Don’t worry too much if you fall I’ll catch you.” He tried to keep his voice down while yelling these words at you, somewhat reassuring words that helped you put your foot out.

You were a lot slower than he was and he was a lot more patient than you were, the wall wasn’t incredibly tall but you couldn’t shake your fears away so easily. His voice kept you grounded, indications on where you could put your hands to get lower. Soon enough you felt his hand on your leg guiding you and you were able to relax.

“I got you, you can let go.” He held on to the back on your knees and your back, you followed his instructions, keeping your eyes shut, and ended up in his arms.

The moment you opened your eyes, you were met with his face, closer than you expected, closer than he has ever been to you. You turned your gaze away hoping he would put you down, and you could just ignore it, but he doesn’t so you look at him again.

Your wide eyes, lips slightly open, eyebrows confusedly furrowed only made him amused, while your heart pounded louder in your chest each time his eyes would land on your lips.

It was embarrassing. You turned your head away, tapping on his arm for him to put you down.

As soon as you felt your feet on the ground, you created some distance between the two of you walking a few steps further from him. You let him hand you your bag while maintaining the space, trying to avoid his obvious staring at the same time.

His hand suddenly wrapped around your wrist, pulling you back to his side. You tried to release yourself from his grip, struggling to break the bind.

“What are you doing?” He laughed watching you try to shake his hand off.

“…You’re too close.” You looked up at him hesitantly, you hated that his smile had any effects on you, but the more he looked at you flashing his perfectly shaped teeth, the more you wanted to just give in.

“You don’t want me close?” He titled his head, seeming almost offended.

You stared at him confused, he was teasing you, you thought as you glanced at the corner of his lips, curved up as it usually was whenever he made fun of you.

“Should I make it more obvious?” He asked as he leaned in closer. You felt an urge to back up, to look away, you were scared because you knew nothing of this. As his hand found it’s place at the back of your neck, you wondered to yourself. Had it been obvious this whole time?

[your-unfriendlyghost]

How I draw: Proportions/sketching

The first response to a few art questions from @johnny-and-clyde :))

sketching:

So I honestly used to be a lot more…intentional about my sketching?? Up until a few months ago I would draw out actual sketches that I’d then cleanly ink on top of in a separate layer, like this:

I’d try to keep things loose and easy, but I’m not fantastic at that lol

I have a tendency to over complicate sketches- It’s not super obvious here, but I did semi-map out the anatomy under the clothes and fabric folds. That’s probably a good thing to do, generally, especially since I was and am still learning anatomy.

I don’t do it much anymore tho, because I often got caught up in little details that just wound up covered by clothes 😭 So I generally focus on mapping out the clothing shapes over the proportions/ anatomy. Definitely study anatomy anyway tho- this only works for me nowadays because I did and still do study anatomy a lot lol

These days though, I don’t r e a l l y sketch that much. I mean, I do- but instead of making another layer and inking it, I kinda just clean up the sketch the way I would if I were using pencil and paper. I don’t have a lotta example images of this, because it goes from the sketch to the final lineart in one layer?

tried to reverse-engineer it here on this Angela drawing. idk how helpful that is tho lol.

Idk, most important thing for me while sketching is remembering that everything has a 3D form, and also to FLIP MY CANVAS FREQUENTLY so that it stays balanced lol. -also- I almost always take note of the ribcage, the clavicle angle, and the hip angle when planning poses

-And I consciously try to keep things from getting stiff, and think of the pose as an intentional composition. I actually struggle most with plain standing/walking poses, because I very often can’t think of ways to make them look…idk, interesting? That’s why it’s taken me so long to finish pt.2 of my Outsiders character designs- I can’t find good dynamic-but-also-stagnant poses for them

proportion:

Honestly man idk I just sorta say “fuck it we ball” and hope for the best. I used to think a lot more about this one but as it’s become more and more natural to me I become less and less able to define/describe it?? I dunno lol.

My art style is semi-cartoony, and honestly kinda inconsistent in terms of proportions. I generally aim for the hands to be similar in size to the face, and for the shoulders/chest area to have enough space to fit the clavicle…but none of this is really a conscious decision? It just sorta happens. The heads/eyes of my characters are usually stylized, and so the hands end up a bit bigger to match the faces, and I tend to exaggerate muscle mass but not really muscle definition…And I also stylize things for characters to better contrast each other. For example, I’ve noticed I draw Steve Randle stockier/bulkier than he is to better highlight Soda’s slenderness.

(see how they’re not as drastically different in build as I draw them? Steve seems bulkier mostly cos he’s shorter but has a similar amount of mass I think) (don’t quote me on that tho idk how to put this shit into words lol)

I have a pretty decent idea of how proportions are supposed to work from years of studying them, and I have no idea how to explain any of it. Just…do a lot of figure and gesture drawing, use a lotta refs, and it’ll make sense eventually 😭

[jellyskink]

A fish out of water. (Idk I wanted to make the title reference Stan's Cipher Zodiac symbol but I couldn't think of a witty way how. Is it even a fish?? Idk I see a fish lol.)

("Wherever we go, we go together alright bro?")

Light filled the room as Stan flipped the lightswitch to his condo. Soft white light filled the room, a mixture of trash and trinkets littered the room in front him.

(Right... I forgot I've been needin' to take care of that. Eh I'll get to it tomorrow. The twins won't be back here until a couple of days.)

Reaching up to scratch his chin, a sharp pain registered as his hand scratched his chin and lower lip.

(OW Ffff-french toast... Figures I'd forget about the number that guy did on the old kisser.)

Earlier that day another jerk had mistaken him for his twin. The usual routine, of course he made sure to return the favor with interest though. There's no way that guy would be seein' anything with his left eye for a good while after the mark he left on it.

(Welp, better get to trying to fix this up. Mabel and Ford'll definitely worry even more than usual if this gets infected.)

Saying that, the old man shuffled over to his bathroom, dodging the miscellaneous items that covered the floor.

(Aight let's get this over with...)

The bathroom was a little disorganized, but everything was more or less the same as it usually was. Still, it was a bit of an adjustment to get used to having Mabel (and to an extent Dipper's) stuff in the sink cabinet along with his own.

Searching through the wave of clutter in the cabinet, Stan eventually found the peroxide he was searching for, to his dismay he did find he was out of normal band-aids, so he was forced to use the box of band-aids covered with designs of puppies, kittens, and narwhals.

(Really hope Mabel doesn't mind I'm usin' one of her band-aids...)

Stan knew she wouldn't, heck she'd insist he use them, but Stan couldn't help but feel at least a little bit guilty for needing to ask for handouts from her, a kid.

Cleaning up the wound was about as fun as it could be, but it wasn't the worst. God knows he's had to clean up way worse.

After quickly slapping a kitten band-aid with the words "Paw-Sum Dude!" onto his wound, he found himself staring at his reflection in the mirror.

(Geez, I guess I'll never escape bein' pointdexter's shadow sometimes huh?)

It was to be expected with being a twin right? Especially if one was more famous than the other.

Although these days that "popularity" was more negative than positive.

(At least it wasn't the dog treats n' cat biscuits thing this time. I HATE when they do that.)

Geez what would Pa think with how they turned out, what would MA think?

Times like these he really wished he could literally beat some sense into people. If he could only make people understand Ford like he did, or at least, like he THOUGHT he did.

(Shoot, he started thinking like this again.)

Like a slideshow in science class, bits and pieces of memories of his youth flashed by in a blink of an eye.

Fond memories of their times on the beach, their first day of school, to the awkward start of learning to box.

To the less wonderful times, the fights between their parents or the family in general, times the two got hurt defending themselves from bullies, to all of the times the two fought.

...

"This was no accident, Stan; you did this! You did this because you couldn't handle me going to college on my own!"

(Crap, I'm dwellin' on this again? Why? It's been years since that dumb mistake!)

And yet it wasn't just a dumb mistake was it? It was THE dumb mistake. The one that cost Ford his dream college, the one that ruined their relationship for so many years, the one one that got Stanley kicked out onto the streets by their Father and was forced to survive all those years on his own.

(If only I had manned up and had told the truth about that dumb machine earlier, we probably could've fixed it. I could've prevented all of the junk that I caused to the family, I probably could've PREVENTED Ford from ever getting involved with that dumb triangle!)

But... was their any truth to that? In a perfect world where Stan didn't screw up once again, could he confidently say things would've been better?

(Why didn't he say anything that day? Why didn't he stand up against Pa that day? Did I screw up so much he hated me that much?)

The funniest part about that was he could'nt even ask Ford about it. If he did, Ford got this distant look on his face while havin' a 50/50 shot of either spacing out for a good while or freakin' out for what felt like AGES.

Stan began to feel a tight feeling in his chest, his throat starting to close as it started to become harder to breathe.

The very same man who had carried so much pride in himself and his work, that he was willing to leave Stan out to dry when Stan had screwed up his chances at getting into his dream school, was now a shell of his former self.

(You threw everything away for... for... some dumb triangle with an eye! Your self respect, your family, you gave it all up for what??)

Tears began to flow down Stanley's cheeks.

(Damnit, I shouldn't be crying. A man ain't supposed to cry over something as small as this!)

As Stan tried his best to try and rebottle his emotions again, something caught his eye as he looked out in front of him.

It was Ford. His spitting image stared back at him, looking just as upset as he was while wearing the same things as he did.

His previous sadness soon began to blossom into rage as Stan found himself grabbing the baseball bat he kept in the bathroom for emergencies.

"Y-YOU JUST HAD TO HAVE EVERYTHING DIDN'T YOU!"

*Crack*

"AND STILL YA GAVE UP EVERYTHING TA BE WITH SOMETHIN' THAT DOESN'T TREAT YA BETTER THAN A STRAY DOG!!"

*Shatter*

"I-I"

The words "Hate you" hung on the edge of this tongue. He wanted to say those words so BADLY. Wanted to believe em' too. And yet he couldn't.

The mirror in front of him was shattered beyond repair, pieces of it still hanging onto it's frame as the rest collected into the sink below it.

From those pieces, Stan was able to see the ball of anger that stood in front of him. Ford's reflection wasn't there anymore, it was him again, yet with the way he looked in the mirror, he also saw his Father's stern look staring back at him, his rage filled eyes reflecting back at him in the triangular piece of mirror that stubbornly held on to the mirror's frame despite what a majority of the other pieces did by just breaking off from it.

("All you ever do is lie and cheat, and ride on your brother's coattails.")

*Clunk*

The bat fell to the ground as Stan felt himself fall to his knees, tears flowing even stronger as he found his body doing the opposite of what his mind told it to do.

A bloodcurdling roar filled the night, similar to a hurt angry bear, the sound afterwards followed by sobs.

Stan would eventually get to collecting himself enough to clean up the mess in the bathroom, afterwards falling asleep at his armchair with the tv on as whitenoise. The framed pictures of his family watching over him as his only companions that night.

It was going to be "fun" to think up a lie to tell the neighbors the next day about the noise coming from his condo, but he was too exhausted to worry about that right now. Right now, he just wanted to sleep, hoping the cravings for certain substances would leave in the morning, he made so much progress for the twins already, he didn't want to lose all of it due to some "hysterical episode" of his.

Of course, when Mabel and Dipper called the next morning they'd be none the wiser of what ailed their Great Uncle, he'd be matching their excited energy as they told them what mischief they've gotten into lately.

Ford would still be none the wiser as he embraced his brother when they metup that afternoon, although he would find it strange Stanley had trouble looking him in the eye that day, although he'd be quickly brushed off when he'd ask Stan if anything was wrong and if he and his Muse could help with anything.

Stanley was going to make sure that nobody was going to see or know the fragile side to him.

Nobody was going to know that "Stanley Screwup Pines" was struggling with personal issue.

If luck wasn't on your side you kept trying until it was, even if you had to cheat your way to winning.

You didn't just accept defeat when you're knocked down.

If there was something wrong with a performance you just continued onwards, winging it and acting like nothing was wrong because the show must go on.

He wasn't ever going to cry in front of anyone.

Cause especially if he cried,

SHE would cry along with him.

And he wasn't ever going to let that happen as long as his lived.

In a way you could say this was the greatest con Stanley Pines ever did.

Convincing everyone, even himself, that he was infact, fine.

(HEY BESTIES! I totally lost some sleep writing this but after seeing the latest post my Jellyskink about Stan I knew I had to try writing some fanfiction for Stan!

The 14 year old girl that possessed me is happy to say it was fun to try writing more angsty fanfiction, especially since that's a specialty for the Gravity Falls Fandom when it isn't being silly or comforting lol.

I hope this turned out decently! As I writing this I was thinking of two Marina songs to recommend but I couldn't decide on one so I thought I'd share both of them.

"The Family Jewels"

"Teen Idle"

Both by Marina.

I hope I kinda captured Stan's essence! I always kinda thought he gave off the "Bruiser with a soft side" trope and stuff!

He's so bbg, I hope everyone enjoys the very girlypop and slaytastic fanfic I wrote for him! Geez I'm having too much fun talking like this lmao!)

THIS IS SO SADDD I LOVE IT 💔💔💔 POOR STAN!!!

(Pictured above: Ford's obliviousness has only gotten worse in his isolation from other humans)

(Also pictured above: the young twins are currently holding the family brain cells)

[loweya-blog]

Mc a dying angst and fluff PLEASEEEE mc dies in front of the cast get judged which takes a decade or so and and makes it to the celestial realm ands like "damn ig Im here now" after a few days or so of hanging out with the angels tells demons that the dearly beloved human had made it to the realm and the demons instantly starts trying to make preparations with Michael trying to start up an another exchange program so they can see mc again

IDK IF YOU CAN TELL BUT I LOW-KEY HATE SENDING REQUEST ITS SO EMBARRASSING TO ME😞😞😞 anyways i spent my time pondering this one sorry for any spelling mistakes I'm really sick rn and im kinda sorta dyslexic-ham

No worries hon! Here's your request, I hope you like it ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Renewed Hope

The House of Lamentation was silent, as it had been for many many years. Each of the brothers had closed themselves off into their respective rooms and hobbies after classes had ended, isolating themselves from each other. Lucifer kept himself busy with constant paperwork. Mammon ran himself dry at the casino. Leviathan huddled in his rooms, playing endless games and watching anime nonstop. Satan separated himself in his room and consumed every new book he could get his hands on. Asmodeus partied day in and day out. Beelzebub focused on sports and eating while Belphegore lost himself in endless sleep. These routines they'd fallen into had kept themselves sane after your passing. When the anger and sorrow and tears faded away, leaving nothing but the empty hole in their souls with nothing to fill it.

Your monument sat in the graveyard, strictly maintained and cleaned but each of the brothers had their own private monument to you within their rooms. For some it was a shirt or an item while others had drawings or writings of yours. They would even add little offerings to you, as though you could receive them somehow. Anything to make the sting of your passing just a little bit better.

The moment you had died was right in front of them. Right in front of their eyes. Solomon immediately jumped to cast any of his life-saving spells on you while the rest of the group desperately tried to hold on. Even Thirteen refused to reap you right away in a fragile hope you could be save. But.... it was no use. Your body had died and though the soul remained, Thirteen knew she couldn't delay any longer or else you'd end up lost to the winds. The deep sorrow stuck each like lightning as they realized.... you were gone. Possibly for good.

But they still kept your words close in their hearts. When a brother was feeling down, they'd help each other out and listen to them. That sense of family you had created, though bruised, was not gone. And they'd fight any damn fool who tried to change that.

Meanwhile.... You were having the worst afterlife ever. The stupid judges couldn't decide if you were to be sent to the Celestial Realm or to the Devildom. It was obvious you hadn't done anything to deserve eternal torment but it would be just as cruel to send you to the Celestial Realm away from the majority of your family. Purgatory wasn't an option either since it would just send you away from both.

How does one give a human a perfect afterlife when they have family in both?

While they had their stupid discussions you were stuck for a WHOLE DECADE sitting on that stupid bench and playing tic tac toe with any sucker who was behind you in line. Eventually the judges relented, realizing that they couldn't make a pick so they drew straws, excluding the purgatory option. You got lucky, or unlucky depending on the perspective, and got sent to the Celestial Realm.

The moment you arrived, you felt your body become light as two little wings popped out from your back. All around you were beautiful grassy fields of the celestial realm and the soft warmth of the sun and lovely skies. As you wandered the field, heading towards the collection of white buildings and pastel structures in the distance, you heard someone's familiar voice.

"....MC?" Luke's little voice called out.

When you turned, you saw your precious angel with eyes wide and full of unshed tears.

"I-is this really you?" He asked, reaching out to see if you weren't some wonderful dream.

When you nodded, he embraced you and cried his little heart out. By the time he finished with his tears, Simeon had found you both. Simeon's eyes widened with realization and tears fell from his eyes. He embraced you, his hands shaking as he buried his face into your shoulder.

"W-we thought we had lost you." He whispered, his voice fragile with the weight of a decade's patience.

Eventually both freed you, after an hour of hugging and led you over to the celestial realm's town. Both were alert, as if afraid to let anybody try to take you away from them again. Luke was mostly just excited to introduce you to all his angel friends and show you all their shops and buildings and everything the Celestial Realm had to offer.

You got your own room, properly met Michael who welcomed you with warmth, and relaxed for a few days. Yet through your sleep, your mind lingered on the brothers and the others from the Devildom. You missed them dearly but had no way of returning to them, as all your stuff was still in the House of Lamentation. A few days had passed and you convinced Simeon to message the others. He reluctantly did, and was bombarded by hundreds of questions and demands to hand the phone over to you so they could at least hear your voice.

Each phone call was full of crying and sorries and words of love. Lucifer and Diavolo immediately began working on a way to bring you home. The best solution was the exchange program. Meanwhile Solomon, ever the clever snake, just casually broke into the Celestial Realm so he could see you, giving no care to the regulations that normally governed such a realm. He held you tight, not wanting to ever let you out of his sight again.

Michael was more than happy to add you to the exchange program on the terms that you would use the chance to learn how to be an angel from Simeon and Luke while there. After accepting these terms, you return to the devildom.

Mammon was the first to greet you, having stayed up all night for your return. He tried to act all tough, but after a soft smile from you, he broke and rushed in for a hug. Each of them welcomed you with tears and tight hugs that almost crushed you. From then on..... you realized they would never let you leave again. No matter where you went or what you did, they would always love you and find you.

The End.

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[fallingfavourites]

How Did It End?

rafe cameron x reader social media au (might be a bit jj x reader aswell who knows)

Summary: Y/n L/n met Rafe Cameron at an after party of The Pogues two years ago. Y/n had been invited by one of her best friends; JJ Maybank the lead singer of the band. She forced her new co-star Cleo along with her. Both of them met someone that would change their life forever. Cleo met the bands guitarist Pope Heyward. Y/n had met Rafe Cameron. The brother of the drummers girlfriend. John B Routledge had met Sarah Cameron when The Pogues manager Kiara Carrera hired her for their first tour.

a/n: first social media au ever so pls be nice guys! also im absolutely winging this, have nothing planned out and dont even know if I'll be posting many chapters 😭 BUT we try anyway. Also want to give a bigbig shoutout and send so much love to all the obx smau creators that inspired me to actually make this so you all should definitely check these people out! @ghostofwriting (kildare split my beloved) @allertonhoe @murdockcastleslut @coffeebeanbabysdreams

1 - 2 - 3

introductions

meet the cast of Dare Me:

Y/n L/n is an up and coming actress. She has played along side of many big names like Daniel Craig, Nicole Kidman, Hugh Jackman, Zendaya and many more! Currently she is on the horror/thriller show Dare Me in which she plays the role of Paige a university student that plays a game of truth and dare with her friends and all kinds of secrets, shames, and maybe even murders come out.

Cleo Anderson is a fenomenal actress and an even better friend to Y/n. Cleo and Y/n met each other while auditioning for Dare Me season 1 three years ago. Cleo plays Tara on the show, Paige's best friend. Thanks to Y/n dragging (she convinced Y/n to even go in the first place) her out to a show of The Pogues she met Pope Heyward. The two of them clicked instantly. They tried to be friends at first but their attraction/chemistry was too strong.

Topper Thornton is the newest addition to the Dare Me cast. This nepo baby scored the role of Lucas, who is Paige's new love interest. Rafe and Topper have been friends for years, well if you can call them friends, the two somehow always end up in arguments online.

a/n: I hope this is making sense so far, im not sure if im loving this format but idk guys im trying 😭 I'll be posting The Pogues, The Camerons + Sofia and chapter 1 either today (its 2am help) or tomorrow! also am trying to have this fic be as inclusive as i can make it so if you have any tips/criticisms pls lmk!!

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

#I love that all of the tumblr Christians are trying to make the plot make sense but we're all so wary about it lol#I remember in one of the old letters clancy described smearing as an almost 'brainwashing' the people who had been smeared walked 'zombie-#like' through life#I haven't gotten the chance to watch the new video yet#but if he's being smeared this is more or less him being brainwashed and might be more like 'hey kill yourself and you can be cool and join#us on the other side' but it's not his time yet#he still has things to do#so even if he wants to join the other's who have crossed the line it's not his time yet and he has to keep pushing forward on#even if he thinks there's nothing left even if he thinks it's the end#his worst form#even if he's covered in mud and at the very bottom of the deepest pit#Josh (holy spirit) is still there to help him get out of it#'it's not your time to go yet'#Even when we're at our worst I think there's a part of us that still holds onto hope#Tyler/clancy needs to find his hope#we've hit the end of the rope but maybe it's time to drop it and find something else to hold onto#and that something has to be bigger than ourselves#There is never a time even at our worst where God will abandon us#we are his children#I don't think tyler is turning away from the light here I think he's avoiding the call of death as in Neon Gravestones#Ignoring his desire to give up and give in#but instead continuing to 'push on through' put on your armor and fight#because your time is not done yet#or maybe not lol idk#also I'm so so so sorry about not responding to your message I just get nervous lol

DONT LEAVE THIS IN THE TAGS THIS IS GREAT

So. I think The Line is part of the Clancy Saga. And more specifically, it takes place right in the last part of Paladin Strait. Also for the purposes of this post, I'm throwing out all the Arcane imagery and solely focusing on Clancy. Sorry show fans.

Here's my take.

First we've got the setting. A mystical, dark place, full of stars. And everything in there seems very blurry and unfocused. Even when the camera is focused in on Tyler's face, its never clear, it seems like there's some sort of distortion or filter over it, not enough to fully point out exactly what's wrong, but enough that you can tell something's wrong.

I think it's describing Tyler's headspace. Or, more specifically, Clancy's, as he's in his own head, Nico smearing his throat. It's unfocused and dark and he's questioning everything that has lead up to this moment, struck with fear.

Next we've got the mysterious person, who's in Clancy's mind with him. Listening as Clancy speaks. And comforting him.

We don't get a clear picture of who it is. But I am convinced its the Torchbearer. Even if the silhouette isn't his. Because the lyrics are ever so clearly a cry for help. And what has Torchbearer done this entire time for Clancy? Helped him.

Then we've got this moment right here. The figure is walking away from Clancy, and I think they're almost beckoning Clancy to follow. When they go behind, Clancy's head is jerked unnaturally to the side, before it comes right back up into its normal position.

I think Clancy is fighting with himself here. He's asking for help, while also telling the person to stay away from him and his brokenness. Which would perfectly match up with these lyrics being a cry of help to the Torchbearer.

Now we have this.

Tell me it does not look exactly like seizing. I don't care if it's matching up with what is going on with the characters in Arcane, this is Tyler Joseph we are talking about here. Everything in this video was 100% intentional.

This could be representative of how Nico is in the middle of smearing Clancy. But I'm leaning towards how it could be how the Torchbearer is now saving Clancy from himself, by getting into Clancy's mind even more than just being in his headspace with him. He's got to pour his spirit into Clancy to save him. (Sound like the Holy Spirit anyone?)

The next sequence is interesting. Along with his eyes going white, his hair does as well. Which I think strengthens my theory that the Torchbearer is going inside of Clancy to help him. Then he rises up into the air, along with all the other figures of light.

I think the strongest case is that they're the Glorious Gone who the Bishops were using to fight the Banditos moments before. And who Clancy was perhaps about to join, with Nico smearing him again. This is it- it is finally over. He was going to die, or be trapped in the cycle forever. Again we've got the analogy of light, and him holding up his hand to block it from his face.

But then while all the other people are becoming more and more light and ascending, he rather returns to his normal self and comes back to the ground, and looks up. Contemplates. And then disappears.

The Torchbearer saved him from himself. And then Clancy leaves that bad mental headspace- and opens his eyes to face Nico, where the Torchbearer is ready to now physically save what he just spiritually saved.

[linterteatime]

Hiii I love your art style soo much its so pretty!! This has probably been asked before but I'd love to know how you go about choosing colours/ making colour palettes because thats something I personally struggle with doing <3

Hiiiii thank you! Okay so usually when i choose my own colours i just pick whatever i feel like looks nice so i don't really have a good explanation for that (yet) lmao, but! i also do this that i think works pretty well too:

which is basically just messing around with the layer filters/Blending Modes of the art programs until i get something that looks nice, not necessarily using the same ones i used here, but any that might work, also sometimes i choose whatever colours (not colour picking) and then do this same process to make them look better :P

[ping-ski]

csp mini guide: edge eraser!

@lunasun hihi!! i tried to make an visual and wrote an explanation i hope this makes sense but if not then i failed LOL i hope you don't mind the tag

Erase Along Edge (Edge Eraser) text version!

1. Sketch or line as normal on one layer. 2. On a separate layer, below the lineart, color as normal. 3. Return to the lineart layer, and set it as the "Reference Layer". (Toggle ON by clicking on the lighthouse icon!) 4. Return to the color layer, select the "Erase Along Edge" tool, and erase the offending overlap! Aaand then you're done! Try stick to the outside of your lineart to avoid accidently erasing what's inside. As long as your brush size is reasonable, it shouldn't erase what's inside too much or at all unless if your cursor is inside of the lineart!

Quick Troubleshoot

"It won't erase properly?" "My lines aren't opaque and/or is too messy." That's OK!! While I do recommend solid lines (few gaps or none) or opaque lines (at 100% opacity), it's NOT necessary! It just makes using the tool easier! Most of the time you can get away with it, so don't worry about having to change your style or anything. If the lines are not solid (have gaps) or aren't opaque (lower than 100% opacity), please refer to the tool properties/settings! You may need to experiment here. Adjust the "Tolerance" and "Area Scaling" settings and repeat the process until you reach your desired result! Please note: If lines intercept (creating small "pockets) or opacity is still an issue you may have to manually erase anyways (sorry lol). By all means, it isn't perfect BUT it is a BIIIGG time saver once you have it down! The creator (pharan) makes more specific points and fixes in their guide that is far more in depth! I just want this to be easy to understand for anyone who's never used it before or is trying it for the first time! :)

[average-transdalorian]

Okay not to compare two bad bitches (dunmeshi and scavengers reign) but Barry and Laios are both such good autism representation in such different ways! Laios’ special interest and the way he sees the world is integral to the plot, it may even be the driving force. If he were allistic, the story probably would’ve gone something like “and they never got far enough down to revive Falin, and the Canaries came and shut down the dungeon, but it was pretty much another Utaya incident.” Laios’ autism is one of the story’s driving forces, as best as I can tell

Barry, though? Barry is just. An autistic person existing. His struggle is a moral one, and he doesn’t need to be autistic to have that struggle and that growth. He didn’t need to be accurate autism representation for the show or the story to work. But he was. He’s autistic, and he exists, and that’s just how it is. Like in real life

[luck-of-the-drawings]

[<==PREV PAGES] [NEXT PAGE==>(not out yet.wait a year.or maybe more.imagine.]

saw alot of comments on prev pages; saying 'i HATE that mean teacher! im gonna FIGHT HIM!!' & i LOVE the energy!! it WOULD be nice. to have that catharsis. but the story of young tidestrider is Not one of catharsis. it is a story of being so small and so special and sucking so bad.

[charmac]

I was thinking about how there's so many Dennis & Dee team ups in Season 11 and thought it would be interesting to see the numbers in comparison to the frequency of their team ups in every other season.. and then I ended up calculating averages for the most popular pairings across the seasons, and the Gang generally. (The average is just the # episodes that feature the pairing over the total episodes that season.)

Definitely reflects why Season 10 is my favourite, lmfao. I think the change from 15 to 16 is also a little indicative as to why 16 felt a little more classic than the recent years, much heavier on pairings than group episodes (and 13, the opposite...)

Thought I'd share in case anyone else was interested for whatever reason

[yesokayiknow]

okay so you know how it goes: fourteen comes to life in thirteen's clothes. and they're both too short and too loose and entirely too bright for his frame of mind. they worked with a doctor who hid everything behind a too wide smile; not so much with a doctor whose pain and tiredness is written across his face

he needs to change. obviously

and then the star beast starts, and fourteen leaves the tardis, and he's still in thirteen's clothes

he just. he doesn't know. how does he choose new clothes? he feels wrong. how will wearing something else change that?

(donna tells him that it's christmas, mate; it's bloody freezing. maybe wear longer trousers, yeah? also he's both too young and too old to wear braces. just a friendly note)

he doesn't have to explain who he is to the unit scientist, not with those clothes. instead he talks about how he doesn't understand why he looks like this. why he is this. why this face? why isn't he someone new?

actually. maybe he is someone new. was he ever this open before? hm

why do you look like that, sylvia hisses, trying to hide him from the daughter he destroyed ruined left

it's a lottery, he replies, purposely ignorant

he still has his thirteenth self's screwdriver. it's too small in his hands

(the whole time they were her, her hands were too small. she didn't like touching anyway, but whenever someone took her hand, it felt wrong. they were too small. sometimes it felt like if she worked fast enough, tinkered about without stopping, she wouldn't have to look at them)

everything goes wrong. his fault, like always

(blimey. of all the things to carry over from the first time he had this face, it had to be the guilt, didn't it?)

you shouldn't look like that, the doctordonna says, and he runs a hand down his face with a tired laugh

no, the doctordonna says, not the face. a hand reaches out to grasp at the collar of his shirt, at the dangling earring chain. this isn't you. who are you, doctor?

like he knows. like they've ever-

she dies.

she lives. he doesn't deserve it. it isn't about him. he still doesn't deserve it

we're letting it go, donna says, and he looks down at himself, at another him's clothes, another him's screwdriver

well, she never was subtle, his donna

the tardis is gorgeous, though when isn't she. he tries to show off his new console to donna, and she rolls her eyes, and drags him off to the wardrobe

unlike normally, where all the clothes are scattered about, the new tardis wardrobe now also has a line of wardrobes stood against the wall. fifteen of them, to be exact

the last wardrobe is open. and empty

he goes to the second to last, and opens it to reveal a wide array of rainbow patterned shirts. she probably would've hated for her things to be organised like this. always creating mess so she wouldn't have to think about anything important. he laughs. and he takes off the sky coloured coat and the worn boots and the earrings and gently places them inside. tag, he thinks, as he closes the doors

and then he moves down to the eleventh wardrobe, full of brown coats and blue suits and neatly pressed shirts and pairs of converse. and he stands in front of it. and he wonders

after a moment, donna's like wait do you want me to leave?? you never cared about nudity before, did you? and he's like oh actually i do feel more self conscious. huh. weird.

he doesn't have to say, i think i'm a different person. not to donna. she just gives him a smile, and a shoulder nudge, and tells him she'll see him in the console room

the last wardrobe is empty

he takes a breath, and then goes to rummage about in the rest of the clothes

[destinywillowleaf]

we're calling it an "afterparty" because it's a party after we saved the world

(Sonic X Shadow Generations)

In which Blaze knows things no one else does, Sonic remembers what his friends tell him, and Shadow pays attention to people trying to kill him.

Light spoilers for Shadow Generations? Nothing plot-heavy, just a boss and related dialogue. Mostly under the cut to not clog up too much on mobile. these thoughts would not leave me alone so here they are

EDIT: now as a more fleshed-out fic on AO3!

(Parenthesis) are internal thoughts, [Brackets] are actions/descriptions.

~~~~~

Sonic: Hey, Blaze?

Blaze: [She turns to face him.] Hm?

Sonic: You said you were in that Crisis City place before.

Blaze: I did. (Where is he going with this?)

Sonic: Call me crazy, but it seemed like you really knew the city. But I don't remember running through anything like it in the Sol Dimension, and none of the other locales in White Space were from adventures you guys had without me. What's up with that?

Blaze: (Ah.) It's... something I've been wondering myself for a while now.

Sonic: Huh?

[Her eyes grow distant, looking beyond the trees as she retreads memories.]

Blaze: You're right. Crisis City was not in my world. From my best understanding, it was a future of your world. I wound up there not too long after our adventure together, and was forced to learn the environment quickly at risk of being incinerated by the flames of disaster. Alongside... a friend, we kept it at bay as best we could.

Silver: A friend?

Blaze: (You.) After one such defeat, we were approached by a... hedgehog who claimed to know how to stop it once and for all. According to him, a lone individual was responsible for the awakening of the flames. (If I had questioned him more before, perhaps we wouldn't be in this mess of forgotten memories now.) You, Sonic.

Sonic: Me?!

Blaze: That turned out not to be the case, but nevertheless we still set out from our time into the past - your present. We were in the Kingdom of Soleanna, around the Festival of the Sun, I believe. I know... my friend encountered you a few times, but I met you then as well. We eventually returned to the future to seal away the flames once and for all. I fully intended to sacrifice myself but when it was all done... I awoke back in my own dimension.

Sonic: Eh... it's kinda ringing some bells.

Blaze: Really?

Sonic: If you told me any of this yesterday, no, but I feel like running through those streets brought something back. I definitely passed by the kingdom at one point, but I don't think I remember meeting you there. [He scratches his head.] At the same time, I kinda remember meeting someone there...

Blaze: I see.

Sonic: Side note, any reason why're you being so vague about your friend? I feel like their name's on the tip of my tongue but I just can't place 'em.

Blaze: (Because saying anything now means admitting that I've known exactly who was in Silver's dreams and never told him.)

Shadow: If I may be so bold.

Blaze: Yes...?

Shadow: Everything surrounding this... Crisis City seems to have been forgotten. Lost in time, as it were.

Blaze: I suppose that's one way to describe it. I just wish I knew why I seem to be the only one to recall anything that happened.

Shadow: Regardless, you said it was a hedgehog who approached you and your friend about the one responsible for the flames.

Blaze: He appeared to be one, at the very least. (Come to think of it...) He actually looked quite a bit like you, and still spoke to us despite lacking a mouth.

[Shadow's eyes go wide.]

Shadow: Was his name Mephiles?

[Blaze freezes in place.]

Blaze: ...how do you know that name?

[Shadow looks away and clenches his hand.]

Shadow: He confronted me earlier, raving about restoring himself to the timeline. I had no idea who he was, yet he claimed to know me. [He turns, meeting her eyes briefly.] You are the only one to remember...

Blaze: ...because that timeline no longer exists. (Something happened to destroy it. Returning to my dimension must have protected me from having my memories affected. It's a miracle Sonic remembers anything now at all.) How did he manage to find you, then?

[Shadow shrugs and turns away, leaving Blaze to her thoughts.]

Silver: Hm....

Blaze: Is there something on your mind?

Silver: You and your friend were fighting some big fiery creature in the future together, right? [Blaze nods.] It kinda sounds like Ifrit, but that was me and Espio.

Blaze: (...I've kept it from him long enough.) It was Iblis.

Silver: Ibl—

[A look of recognition flashes in his eyes. Everything clicks into place.]

Silver: All this time... it was you? They–They weren't dreams or future visions at all?

Blaze: I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. (Not that I've had many opportunities to do so to begin with.)

Silver: I've never really felt like I belonged in my own future, even before I tried to change it the first time. [Silver lets out a tired chuckle.] I guess I know why now. And–And why I was there instead of anywhere else, and why it still felt familiar even though I didn't know where I was. Except, I guess, I did know where I was. Kinda.

[The party air is distant despite being so close, and the gap between them feels like a chasm.]

Silver: What was it like?

Blaze: The old future?

Silver: Mhm. What kinda stuff did we do besides fighting fires?

Blaze: Well...

~~~~~

if you're reading this part you're cool B) but seriously i think it would be fun for Shadow to be the only other person who actually knows Mephiles. Silver has shreds of memory at best, Sonic never learned the guy's name, and no one else even has a shot at remembering. even after generations Sonic doesn't remember most of what happened and Blaze can't help since she wasn't around for most of it. idk if anyone ever finds out that Sonic died during all that nonsense.

(also something about Shadow, the one guy notorious for having a shit memory thanks to Amnesia, being the one to know/remember stuff from a timeline that doesn't exist is just. inherently funny to me)

[televisionbodiez]

I feel like sun and glamrock freddy were both affected by the virus in similar ways, but have ended up very different in hw2 as a result of how they've been treated by Fazbear Entertainment.

BECAUSE BOTH SEEM MUCH MORE AWARE AND DETERRED FROM VIOLENCE THANTHE OTHERS, Freddy and Sun seem generally just less affected!! AND SEEING THE DIFFERENCE IN SUN AND FREDDY DURING HW2 SAYS A LOT.

In Freddy's minigame, he remains kind to the player. He's what we know him to usually act as!! And he is the star of the pizzaplex, staff and visitors would absolutely treat him well and he'd remain highly maintained.

But Sun clearly hints at not liking the staff, as maintenance on him and moon most likely isn't a common occurrence.

Sun has been stuck all alone and with the events of security breach/ruin, I think he's just grown so moody because of all of those factors. He's been neglected and is growing resentful!! And with holding back moon, Sun has to hold that burden of causing potential pain.

While Freddy is still shown as happy and gentle since there's not much for him to hold resentment towards!!

[bororaurealis]

Just read a comment thread suggesting a headcanon/AU where Telemachus is adopted and am currently spiraling over the implication of it all

Imagine what Ody's thought process in killing the infant might've been?? "I saved another child and took him in as my own, why can't I do the same for this one?" It wouldn't be fair.

And then think about what Telemachus was going through after his newly adoptive father went MIA for twenty years and he never truly got to meet or thank the man who saved him and took him in as his own?

Imagine being abandoned by your birth parents as infant, and then adopted into a new loving family. Only to then be abandoned by your new ones (physically by one, emotionally by another).