#me playing with colors at 2am

[whump-queen]

my brain demands that maya get the vaporwave makeover too

[springypaws]

Oh no the archivist is archiving (more versions & ID’s under the cut)

ID: It’s a drawing of Johnathan Sims from the Magnus Archives, sat legs-crossed, with one arm loosely held on his legs and loosely holding his glasses, and the other propped onto an invisible surface. The propped arm’s hand is raised to Jon’s eye, stretched out, but with his index finger creating an opening with the rest to display his overshadowed eye, still easily visible due to it being outlined by bright green lines. The style the eye is drawn is similar to the style of the bright green eyes haloed to the side of his head, and the large, less opaque, large one in the background of the drawing. The middle finger of this hand is lightly pulling down his bottom lid, making the eye more visible. Jon is colored in a grey-scale manner, the dull color ever-so-slightly hinted blue. He is half outlined in the same bright green as the eyes, half outlined in a bright red. This bright red is also present as cartoonish exclamation symbols around him, and in the pupil of his bright-green eye. His other eye’s pupil is also colored brightly, but with the green, rather than the red, interrupting the greyscale of the rest of the area. Jon’s expression is neutral, although he looks exhausted, with deep dark circles under his eyes and a slightly furrowed brow. He is wearing a dark overcoat with lighter patches on the elbows and shoulders, and, under this, is wearing a lighter vest. Under the vest is yet another layer, being a semi-visible white button-up shirt. He is wearing darker dress pants and black, professional, and simple shoes. His hair is long and unkept, decorated with white streaks and put back into a loose half-bun.

Plus some filter-playing fun:

ID’s: The first filter makes the drawing look almost like it’s behind the screen of an old electrical device, more similar to that of an older model of computer. The colors are dulled ever-so-slightly, and the edges of the drawing are darkened with shadow.

The second filter has made the image completely greyscale, muting the bright and dull colors both.

The last filter has made the colors all a bit more blue, giving the drawing more color than it had originally.

And the sketch too cause I think I might like it better (as always)

ID: A colored and shaded sketch of the drawing. It looks very similar to the final product, except less cleaned-up and covered in guidance lines and coloring that goes out of the lines.

[choccymilkblehhh]

bro my sis’s fam is coming over during the same time Summerfest is happening :(

it’s gonna be complicated to let my niece play for the first time with the restricted mode access :/

[hischierhoney]

bruised — a nico hischier x reader blurb

warnings: mentions of injury/bruises/blood, undefined relationship

There’s a bruise on Nico’s ribs.

It’s dark and purple and big, splotchy across his bare skin. It looks worse in the stark kitchen light at 2am than it did in the picture he’d sent you the day before. The one he’d taken in the hotel room, a funny grimace on his face, captioned with something about warning you so it didn’t scare you when he got home. Home. After nearly two weeks straight, he’s here. Standing in the kitchen, shirtless. Your kitchen. He’d gotten off the plane and got in his car and drove over.

It’s messing with your head, a little bit.

You’ve been friends with him for a while now, since he moved to Jersey and you made mutual friends. There was a shift, though, months ago- at the end of the last season, in that tiny sliver of time between seemingly endless games and his trip back to Switzerland. Maybe one too many drinks, a little bit too much mutual liquid courage. It had ended with you in his bed that night, and then in the morning, too, a sheepish grin on his lips and a blush on his cheeks.

Then he’d flown off to Switzerland and you’d moved on.

Until- until he came back, and he got stressed and complained about it to you, and you’d offered stress relief in the best way you knew how, and it ended with you on your knees, his head tossed back against the couch, and the look of relief on his face afterwards was so worth it. Worth doing it again, and again, and when you’d been stressed he’d reciprocated, taking you out of your own head for just a second, and-

And now you’re the type of friends who have to warn each other about their bruises, because he knows you’re going to see his bruises. Now he’s the type of friend who’s standing in your kitchen shirtless at 2 in the morning. Now he’s eating your ice cream, straight out of the tub, taking bites between sentences as he tells you about the roadie, as he complains about Jack’s yapping on the flight home, as he turns too fast and winces, his hand coming up to press at his ribs, still holding the spoon between his fingers.

“Looks worse than it did in the pictures,” you tell him, nodding at his side.

His face twists. “Feels worse than it did,” he admits.

He must see the worry on your face, the frantic feeling of did you get it checked are you okay what if you’re hurt, because his face softens, and he gives you something between a smile and a grimace.

“It’s fine,” he says. “Nothing’s broken. Was just a hard hit.”

“This is where you tell me I should see the other guy,” you say, laughing, hoping he believes it’s genuine.

You can’t explain it, is the thing. Why you’re feeling like this. It’s just. The bruise is giant, and you’d watched him take the hit on your tv screen, watched him get shoved up against the boards, and. It had nearly wrenched your heart out of your chest. Like someone had reached past your own ribs and squeezed. And you didn’t understand, still don’t, because he’s played hockey the whole time you’ve known him and you’ve never felt like that before, never been curled up on the couch, hand pressed to your mouth, waiting for him to get back up. Get back up. Please get back up. Come on, baby, get up-

Nico sees straight through you. He sets the ice cream down and makes his way around the kitchen island, a soft smile on his lips. You bite back a gasp when he takes your hand in his, his fingers still cold from the carton, and brings it up to his side. To the bare skin, mottled with dark colors.

“I’m okay,” he says, looking down at you where you sit on the stool. “I don’t break that easily.”

You chew on your lip, thinking of concussions and scratches and that clip of him playing in Switzerland over the summer, blood running down his cheek, the one that almost made you call him even when you swore you wouldn’t be that girl. You press your palm over the bruise, softly, and find relief in the warmth of his skin. It’s just a bruise.

He leans down and presses a kiss against the crown of your head, and then stays, nose buried in your hair. He cradles the back of your head in the palm of his hand, holding you close, and- this feels like something friends don’t do. It feels like more.

“I’ll always come back to you, baby,” he says.

The ice cream is melting on the counter. But when you lean up to kiss him, you can’t bring yourself to care.

…..

hi this popped into my head and i had to write it. very much unedited hope you enjoyed!

…..

[splatloafbud]

a very vivid splatoon 3 splatfest dream i woke up from this morning at 2am:

the splatfest theme was: "which shape is the best?"

the teams were: circle vs triangle vs square

i had joined team circle because the colors reminded me of team future, the grandfest team i joined irl

before playing a ton of turf war (the turf war part of the dream was a blur to me), i was too preoccupied taking in the sights and sounds of the splatsville city. all of the idols were performing there, each wearing new outfits for this event (shapes fest had a lot of energy like it was grandfest 2.0)

there was a part where i was taking a bunch of Marina pics cuz she looked cute in the outfit she was wearing (which i don't remember, but it looked vaguely like a mix between her grandfest + suffer no fools outfit)

after the turf war part that i don't remember a whole lot on, cut to a scene where me and the family are out going to store: specifically Target

we had all split up to buy whatever we needed and i came across some cousins there were shopping there too, so we chatted for a long time (some of the store assistants would join our conversations too). it turns out that the shapes splatfest was BIG in town. even the ppl who weren't gamers were talking about it, including my cousins

"triangles are obviously peak. like, they're mountains. they literally have a peak." ok bro

after what felt like a long time, the unimaginable happened..... on a big screen display, inside target, the SPLATFEST RESULTS were announced for all of us to see. everyone inside the store froze to watch the results... for every score that showed on-screen, me & everyone inside that store was excitedly reading the numbers out like, like how the audiences do in gameshows

the sneak peek scores were won by Team Circle, whose numbers i don't remember exactly, but the POPULARITY VOTES WERE INSANE: circle (80%) -> triangle (10%) -> square (10%)

and finally the clout appeared..... winning the Open and Tricolor clout....... was Team Circle. and when the clout numbers appeared, ME AND EVERY PERSON IN TARGET WAS CHEERING SO LOUD- we were celebrating, applauding & hugging each other like we won the lottery or some shit

and my ass was over here going: "YESS!!!! THE CIRCLE!! INFINITE SHAPES!! INFINITE- LIKE THE FUTURE!! TEAM FUTURE!!! ZERO IS INFINIIIITE!!!"

once we all calmed our asses down, a cutscene played immediately after the results, daylight outside in-game (as always after announcements)

a few team circle inklings & octolings were standing around in the city, the splatfest decorations still hanging around. one of the inklings go: "we won, but i'm hearing people say that we lost..."

things then took a turn for the worst

nighttime fell across the sky, like darkness covering the world. a vehicle rolls up in the center of the city, with this bowl structure attached to chains... then suddenly... Mr. Grizz appears from inside the bowl!

when he's speaking, the dialogue box doesn't appear, it's just text. his voice had his dialogue voice tone, but he was speaking in english. music started playing: like slowed-down circus music that sounded distorted & unsettling, with a choir sounding like it was mourning.

once he stepped out the bowl thing, mr grizz then placed a hand on each inkling/octoling's head. one by one, they all transformed into little bears that then shriveled up into these sad-looking teddy bears. they were still sentient, but could not talk or move, lying on the ground making distressed cries.

then the scene faded to black with text at the bottom, like it was the end of a nintendo direct. then the mr. grizz cutscene played a second time, for those inside the store that missed it (when it replayed, the dream's pov switched to the game, so everything was in full screen and the music was amplified)

...... that was when i woke up lol

[lif3lessb0dy]

₊˚⊹ ೀ rafayel

╰┈➤ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ headcanon; love language

cw; he needs attention (he kinda won't admit it)

rafayel really likes spending time with you

he loves having you at his studio, could be just chilling after ur work; him doing his thing, you doing yours. he just wants to be near you, it makes him feel good

often searches for various events that may interest you and takes you to them (he's such a sweetie)

if you call at 2am bc u need to talk to him, he will always pick up. as i mentioned before he really likes ur presence so if you need to see him, he will be at ur home as soon as possible. rafayel enjoys every message you send him

he probably won't admit it but he loves when u send him "good morning/goodnight" messages

he really appreciate when you offer going on a date, it makes him feel loved, wanted

„oh, so you were missing me so much that you want to go there with me, huh?” rafayel raised an eyebrow with sly smile

„okay, if you don't want to go I'll go alone” you turned back and smiled cuz you just knew that he's gonna run after you

„nonononono” he grabbed your hand „I mean, i know you really want me to keep you company so im going with you”

money means nothing to him, no matter how expensive your dream items are he will buy them anyway

„puh-lease, what use is money to me if you are not next to me? I want to get this thing for you”

he likes to listen how much you care about him, just make sure you assure him that you won't leave him

he would definitely be touched after you give him flowers but try to act nonchalant

(he probably would cry after that)

holding hands? yes please.

this man loves when you play with his fingers

little silly dates where you paint each other nails ;33

matching things? oh god, this man loves that!

he always wears a tie or suit that matches the color of ur outfit on events where u are together

[ariascoven]

⟡ THANKS TO THE RAIN

PAIRING : vanessa shelly x reader

CONTENT / WARNINGS : female reader. petnames (angel, hon, bunny, baby, love, honey & princess). smut. praising kink. nipple play. biting, and a little bit of blood. finger sucking. fingering and oral (both reader receiving). mommy kink.

WORD COUNT : 2.8k

A/N : this has been sitting on my google docs stuck at 500 words, all forgotten since august 4th and i felt the need to continue it when i made this account because WHERE did all the vanessa fics go ??? hello ??? i'm still at the restaurant </3

MY MASTERLIST

It was another work day for you — or rather, work night. You were in the security guard room, lazily sitting on the chair with legs spread as your eyes roamed over the monitors showcasing exactly what you saw every working night; an endless void of nothing. Nothing happened, ever. The clock made a sound signaling it was 2am and you let out a yawn as boredom washed over you, rubbing your sleepy eyes before turning your head towards the door upon hearing a knock. “Vanessa?” You called out, head tilting to the side. As suspected, the blonde woman eased the door open with a bashful smile playing on her face. Your eyes widened at the sight of her state — completely soaked, strands of sopping wet hair glued to her face in a way that seemed nothing but uncomfortable. “Vanessa! Get in!” You spoke as you got up from your seat in a flash. “What happened? Did you forget your coat?” Your voice was laced with concern as you walked up to your work bag that was on the other side of the room and pulled something from inside.

“I did, indeed.” Her voice sounded angelic per usual, an awkward chuckle falling from her lips. She crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the table, observing you with curiosity in her eyes. “Do you bring that with you to work everyday?” She asked with a raised brow, watching as you removed clothes from within the bag. You hummed in response. She muttered a ‘thank you’ as her cold fingers brushed against yours while she took the clothes from you. The outfit you gave her was rather simple, consisting of a long sleeved shirt and a pair of baggy pants, both in the color black. “I don't like going home wearing my work clothes. Makes me feel all dirty and disgusting.” You said with a slight pout that Vanessa thought was adorable, grabbing your jacket from where it was hanging on the chair and walking up to her. “I don't have a towel with me, so this will have to do.” You murmured, using it to dry Vanessa’s hair. You thought the way she snapped her eyes shut as you aggressively rubbed the fabric on her head was endearing, a smile spreading across your face. “You're going to get sick like this.” You scolded.

A sense of gratefulness washed over Vanessa as you showed your concern and care for her. She gave you a soft smile as her arms awkwardly dropped to her sides as she allowed you to finish what you were doing. “Thank you.” She said in her usual gentle tone, her hand grazing against yours as she took the jacket from you to finish drying herself up. That was the second time your hands met, and even though it was nothing but a simple touch, it made your heart flutter a little. You dragged your feet to the other side of the room, the half finished cup of coffee that you left on the monitor’s desk being warmly welcomed into your hands as you took a long sip and sighed at the familiar taste. Was it good? Not really. But it was your best friend through the nightmare you called your job, keeping you awake. “It really is that stormy outside, huh? Why did you-” The words died in your mouth when you turned around to find a topless Vanessa, lips feeling suddenly dry. Subtle was not your last name at all, jaw dropping at the sight as your eyes shamelessly wandered over the cop’s nice figure.

Confusion was written all over her face when she looked up after noticing the way your sentence was never completed. Your gaze met hers and you bit your bottom lip in embarrassment, cheeks reddening as you dipped your head down to avoid eye contact. “Sorry.” The word came out almost like a whisper, your voice shaking. Amused by the situation and your adorable demeanor when embarrassed, Vanessa smirked mischievously. She put down your jacket, once more supporting herself by her hand as she leaned against the table. “Woah, you look like you saw a ghost.” She nagged, head cocking to the side. “Never seen a topless woman before?” Too embarrassed to deal with her mocking at the moment, you turned your back to her with a scoff and brought your drink to your lips once more with a shrug as you pretended you weren't affected by her — and failing miserably at that.

Vanessa, on the other hand, could hardly hide her excitement at the unexpected situation. Ever since she laid her eyes on you, she thought you were incredibly attractive. However, afraid of ruining the friendship you've been building along those few months you've known each other, she kept it to herself and never made a move, secretly hoping you would. Regrettably, you felt the same. You never knew about the secretive glances she shot in your direction when you weren't looking and assumed the touches that lasted a little too long in your opinion were simply accidental. Your heartbeat quickened when you heard her footsteps approaching. The sound of your breath hitching was audible the moment she stopped right behind you and pressed her chest, covered in nothing but the fabric of a simple black bra, against your back. A hand snaked around your waist and slipped under the fabric of your shirt to caress your bare stomach.

Her lips grazed against your ear as she spoke and you could feel her warm breath hitting you. “I can see the desire in your eyes, angel.” The whispered words sent a jolt straight to your core, body tensing. “Shhh,” she cooed, pressing a wet kiss to your neck as the hand beneath your shirt traveled higher and touched the underside of your breasts. “It's okay, just relax.” With trembling hands, you returned your coffee to its previous spot, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. “Good girl.” She praised, feeling your body relax against her. “Do you really want this?” The blonde woman asked as she rested her chin on your shoulder, her free hand turning your head and forcing your gaze onto hers. When you nodded in response, she tsked and tapped her index finger against your cheek in a playful manner, a small smile on her lips. “Need you to use your words, m’kay? I just want to be sure, hon. Now, say the three little words for me.” The way she was speaking to you made your mind go blank. You felt the need to hold onto her arms to steady yourself, legs weakening under the weight of your body.

“I need you, Nessa.” Your voice dripped with pure want as you spoke, looking into her eyes and squeezing her arms, fingers digging in slightly. She breathed out at your words, gaze lowering to your parted lips. You let out a shaky sigh when you felt a hand cupping a breast and kneading it gently. There was a pause, then you heard a low chuckle falling from Vanessa’s lips as she twisted your nipple between her fingers, the delicious sensation causing your head to tip back against her shoulder. “No bra? What a bad bunny.” You shivered at the nickname. You contemplated saying something back, but the only sound you managed to make was a sinful moan as she played with your hardened peaks. She turned you around in her arms, speedy fingers working to unbutton your blouse. Your body trembled, and you weren't sure if it was due to the cold air hitting your now-bare torso or the way Vanessa licked her lips as her gaze burned holes in your chest. Your hand wrapped around her ponytail when she leaned down to take a breast into her mouth, her blue eyes looking up at you as her tongue swirled around your sensitive nipple, your knees becoming weak at the sinful sight.

A deep groan left Vanessa’s lips when you tugged on her hair harshly. You whined as she doubled her efforts, your free hand reaching behind you to grip the edge of the desk. You watched as she moved from a breast to another. It felt heavenly, having someone worship you like that. Your back arched almost involuntarily, pushing your breasts further into her mouth. She hummed in approval around you, the vibrations sending a rush of arousal through your body — one that went straight to your cunt. While she tugged a peak between her teeth, she teased the other, mimicking the motion but with her fingers. Nobody had ever paid this much attention to your breasts before; and it drove you crazy. She pulled back with a satisfying pop, a string of saliva connecting her mouth to you. “Shit— always wanted to do this.” Her words came out as a whispered confession. Your hand released her ponytail and landed on the nape of her neck, pulling her back up. Your lips met in a passionate and sloppy kiss that made your head spin, the way her hands groped your ass eliciting a gasp from you.

A whine came out of Vanessa’s lips when you pulled back for air and you squeezed your thighs together at the marvelous sound. She began peppering kisses all over your jaw and neck, a contented sigh of pleasure leaving you. Then, you suddenly felt her forcing your head to the side as her teeth sank down into your neck. You let out a strangled moan at the bite. It stung, it hurt, but most of all — it made you clench around nothing. It made you dizzy, the way she licked the blood that left the wound as if it was the most delicious thing she's ever tasted on her tongue. Fingers fumbled with the zipper of your pants, quickly getting rid of it and sending the fabric down onto the floor. She pulled back to stare down at you, blue eyes darkened with lust. She tapped two of her fingers against your bottom lip and you immediately opened your mouth, its warmth welcoming her digits inside. Your tongue swirled around her, not daring to break eye contact even for a split second. “Good girl, angel.” She praised as she pulled back, a chuckle falling from her lips when you whined at the absence of her fingers inside your mouth. Her knees dropped to the floor, grabbing your leg and throwing it over her shoulder without ceremonies. Her tongue licked a wet stripe up your slit through your drenched underwear, soaking it even more.

“You’re such a fucking tease.” You groaned out in frustration as your hips bucked against her face, desperately seeking the friction you needed. She shot a devilish grin up at you as she continued to tease your needy cunt, sucking and licking the sensitive skin through the thin fabric. Your body shook with excitement when she finally slid your panties down your legs, then started planting wet, open-mouthed kisses on your inner thighs. It set your body on fire, the way her mouth sent waves of pleasure through your entire being just from kissing your thighs — you could only moan in anticipation from the pleasure she would make you feel when she finally touched you where you needed her, with no underwear as an obstacle. She took her time with you, made sure her mouth didn't miss any inch of your shivering flesh as she kissed her way up towards your center. When she finally reached your soaked folds, your eyes rolled back into your head so hard you almost thought you could see your own brain for a brief moment.

Slender fingers spread you open to expand the exploration of her tongue, and she whimpered at the taste of you. You couldn't believe what was happening. The hot police woman you’ve had a crush on for months now and that maybe, just maybe, you thought about when touching yourself on multiple occasions, was eating you out like a starved woman and whimpering at your taste — devouring you whole like you were her last meal. Your mind spiraled, knuckles bruising from gripping the desk so tightly, holding onto dear life to ensure you didn't fall pathetically. Your legs felt like pure jelly, and you thanked the Gods above for the fact Vanessa was gripping your hips to keep you in place. Her tongue was a dream; a dirty, wet and delicious dream you hoped you would never wake up from.

“You're dripping, bunny. You've been wanting this, haven't you?” You’ve never heard her voice this low, sounding this husky before, and you loved it. You nodded as she stole the air from your lungs, her tongue plunging deep inside you. The moan that slipped from your mouth could only be described as filthy. “How long, baby? I need to know. How long have you been fantasizing about this?” You feel your cheeks burning at her question as a light shade of pink dusted your cheeks. You found it hard to form coherent words and respond — both from the embarrassment of admitting you’ve wanted her for a while and the pure bliss that made your mind blank out.

“S-Since we met.” You whispered, eyes widening at the depraved moan that left her lips as she heard your response.

“Fuck, me too.” You whimpered at her words, fingers finding their way to Vanessa’s head and holding onto her blonde hair, nails digging onto her scalp. She seemed to like that, the way her breath hitched. “You're telling me I could've had this sweet pussy all to myself months ago?” You gasped and clenched around nothing when her finger teased your entrance. “So wet for me, love.” She cooed, dragging her digits along your soaked folds and gathering your slick before sucking them into her own mouth. “You're addicting, you know that?” And damn, how you wished you were able to say something, anything. But incoherent blabbers were the only thing you were capable to spit out. The moment she slid two fingers inside your hole was the moment you realized what you had gotten yourself into — the way your inner walls gripped her like a vice. Truthfully, you could cum right then and there.

From between your legs, Vanessa relished the effect she had on you. The way you had your eyes shut tightly and bit on your bottom lip drove her insane. She wanted, needed you to cum. She needed to feel your orgasm, to hear it. Her fingers moved at such a fast speed that your brain was barely able to register when they were sliding into you and when they were sliding out. She found that sensitive spot inside you with ease as she curled her digits inside you, her palm hitting your clit with each movement of her wrist. Her eyes darkened even more when she looked up, being greeted by the most delightful sight she's ever seen; your tongue sticking out of your mouth as drool streamed down your chin. “Fuck— honey, look at me.” It took a few seconds for her words to register, and then you obeyed. You glanced down at her through half lidded, dazed eyes. “You're the prettiest thing in the world.” She whispered, so quietly she wondered if you heard her. When she saw your cheeks flushing and the faintest hint of a smile forming on your lips, she knew you did.

At some point, you don't even remember when, your hips had stopped moving to meet Vanessa’s rhythmic movements. Your body was completely spent, there was nothing you could do other than stand there as she fucked you like a good girl. You just wanted to be her good girl. Your moans grew louder and more desperate as you neared the edge, fingers gripping the woman’s hair so tightly you were afraid you were hurting her — however, not afraid enough to stop. “I need you to cum for me, love. Please. Can you do that for mama, princess?” Mama. That sent you over the edge. You screamed out her name as you reached your orgasm, not caring about being heard — it's not like there was anyone else in the building with you anyway, you worked alone. She groaned and planted kisses on your lower stomach as she fucked you through your climax. Your moans turned into small, shaky whimpers when she finally pulled out of you.

You watched with tired eyes as she ascended from the floor and brought her fingers coated in your slick to your mouth. You happily accepted the tempting offer, taking her digits inside your mouth and cleaning her with your tongue. She gave you a smile so gentle, so tender; it didn't even seem like she just fucked you brainless during your shift. You were putty in her hands, and you loved it. When you released her fingers, she cupped your cheek and leaned in for a kiss. Moaning against her, you eagerly returned the kiss and reached for her with shaky hands. Fingers threaded through her hair as your lips moved against each other slowly, and you felt her smiling against you. When you reluctantly broke the kiss for air, she gave you a cheeky grin. “Thanks to the rain.”

[puck-luck]

just visiting | trevor zegras

warnings: one (1!) use of "y/n", semi-public sex, hair pulling, unprotected p on v sex (& creampie), fingering, use of pet names (baby <3), praise, slightly? dom!trevor, cussing (<3), light spanking, uhhh eating come i guess? underuse of the name Trevor and overuse of the pronoun "he" as i am known to do in my writing. pairing: trevor zegras x fem!reader summary: the one when reader meets trevor zegras in a bar and has a satisfying one night stand with him in the bathroom <3 wc: 2,554

You’d been dancing with a rotating door of men all night, but your eyes had stayed fixed on one man. He’s sitting at the end of the bar opposite of the dancing floor. In the time since you’d caught his eye, you’d seen him down two beers. He drank them so slow, so lazily that you thought he might’ve been doing it just so you could see the way his lips wrapped around the bottle. He’d come with friends, but they’d all left him a while ago. At this point, it’s well past 2am and you were still waiting for him to get the balls to come over to you. The men who danced with you all thought they had a chance, but you knew and this man at the bar knew that at the end of the night, it would be you two, in a bed, all over each others’ bodies.

The man behind you now is certainly feeling the effects of your rolling hips. His attraction to you is pressing against the small of your back and his hands clutch at your hips, bunching the fabric of your dress. The hem of the dress, a sexy little red number that you only wear when you want to pull someone, is riding up more than you are wholly comfortable with, but the exposed skin has drawn the eye of the man at the bar. In the low light, you can’t tell what color they are, but you know that they’re shining with a challenge. He likes what he sees, but here he is, waiting for the chase. You pointedly roll your eyes at him and turn around to face the guy you’re already with. You’ll make do with what you already have. The guy at the bar isn’t going anywhere.

The guy you’re dancing with is cute, but not turn-your-head cute. He’s got some height on you, just enough that you have to lean up on your tiptoes to rest your arms on his shoulders. He’s got a five o’clock shadow of a beard that rubs nicely against your jaw when he leans down to whisper an invitation back to his place in your ear, but before you can answer, two new hands round your waist and pull you away from him.

“Sorry, but she’s already spoken for,” says the voice from behind you. You glance behind you to find the man from the bar, and you have to choke back a grin. 

The man you were dancing with looks confused for a second, but drops the issue with a raise of his hands. “Sorry, man. Didn’t know.” He walks off, probably in search of a new target for the night. There are only so many people left, considering the bar closes at 4 and it’s nearly 3.

“Finally,” you sigh, reaching up to lace your fingers in the man’s hair. He makes it easier for you, coming down to give the curve of your neck a ghost of a kiss. “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry,” he repeats, but it sounds like he’s got a smile on his lips. “Wasn’t sure if you were ready for me.”

“Been ready for you.” You turn towards him and take his hand, guiding it down between your legs so he can steal a touch. You pull it back after just one pass and he groans. 

He leans into your space and captures your lips with his. His tongue traces your bottom lip after only a moment and you open, letting him in. He invades your mouth with his tongue and it’s hot, and passionate, and says everything that you need to know better than he could have put it into words. You break apart and he presses his hips into yours, sneaking one of his hands up to graze over the swell of your breasts. “Bathroom?” He asks.

“Not your place?” You reply.

“I’m visiting,” he says. “And I’m sharing a hotel room with someone.”

You hum, thinking about your options. He’s hot and you’ve been playing this game all night, waiting for this moment. Any of the other guys would have sufficed, but you knew from the first moment you locked eyes with this guy that he would make this a night to remember. Your place wasn’t far, but you tried not to go back to your apartment with strange men, especially since you live alone and your apartment building isn’t the securest– something you learned from an experience with the last guy you brought home… who couldn’t quite understand that it was a one-and-done thing. If this guy wasn’t willing to take you back to his hotel room and kick his roommate out, the bathroom might just be your only option.

“Bathroom works,” you agree and take his hand. You lead him through the crowd of people. You reach the bathroom and knock on the door of the single-stall one, hoping that there’s no one in it. When you don’t hear anything, you test the handle, and it swings open easily. You let out the breath you were holding and smile to yourself, dragging this guy in behind you. He turns you so your back is against the door and traps you there, reaching around to press the lock. He leans down and kisses you again, licking into your mouth right off the bat.

“I’m Trevor,” he says between kisses. 

“Cute,” you reply, sounding a little breathless already. “I’m Y/N.” 

“Nice to meet you.” His hands find their way to the back of your thighs and he lifts you up. You let out an embarrassing squeal out of surprise and automatically wrap your legs around his waist. He chuckles against your lips at your reaction. Still kissing you, he carries you over to the sink and sets you down. Trevor’s deft fingers trace their way to your pussy from your thighs and rub you deliciously.

You let out a breathy moan as he applies just the right amount of pressure to your clit with his thumb before taking it away. He rubs his knuckle up and down your panty-covered folds. “So wet already?” He teases, sounding proud of himself. “All we did was kiss a little.” 

You slide your fingers through his hair and grab on, pulling him back in so your lips reconnect. “I bet you’re no better,” you reply. You mirror his actions, reaching your hand down to feel him. He’s hard, just like you expected, but you didn’t expect him to feel so big. You make a content noise as you continue to palm him through his pants, imagining him inside you.

“Found something you like?” He asks, rolling his hips into your hand as he moves your panties to the side and swipes a finger through your wetness. “I did.” He brings the finger up to his mouth and sucks your juices off of it. “Hmm. Sweet.”

You sigh at his comment and your hands fumble with the zipper on his jeans. He reaches down to help you out, sliding the zipper down himself after batting your hands away. He pushes his pants and boxers down just enough to reveal himself to you. “Trevor,” you breathe out when you catch sight of his cock. It’s pretty and hard and it’s positively leaking. You want to put your mouth on it and go to hop down from the sink, but Trevor stops you.

“Wanna get my fingers in you first, baby,” he says. He delicately slides your panties down your legs and kisses your cheek sweetly before taking them all the way off. He stuffs them in his back pocket and gives you a wink before sliding one of his long fingers inside you. He pumps the digit in and out of you slowly, relishing in the way your walls suck him in and clench around him. 

Your fingers clutch at the bicep that’s holding you in place and moan as his finger speeds up. He adds another, curling them in a way that makes you crave him even more. You grind down on his hand, chasing the orgasm that’s building inside of you. When he starts to press sloppy kisses on your neck, it’s over. He’s leaving a hickey on your pulse point when you clench down on him and drop your head back, seeing stars with every continued curl and pump of his fingers.

“That’s it,” he soothes. “Good girl. Look so pretty coming for me, baby. Want to see it again.” 

He guides you down so your feet are touching the ground and turns you, bending you over the sink. You can see him in the mirror, brown hair messy from when you were running your fingers through it. You drink him in– the flush on his cheeks, the concentration in his eyes as he begins to rub the tip of his cock over your folds. You clench down on nothing and you smile to yourself as his pupils dilate. His eyes flicker up and meet yours in the mirror. You give him a shit-eating smile and he returns it after thrusting inside you. Your mouth drops open and his smile broadens, although you don’t get the chance to see it, considering your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you adjust to his length.

“Oh my God,” you moan as he fucks into you, rolling his hips slowly just to tease you. You begin to push back against him, trying to meet his hips so his tip reaches that point inside you. His hand reaches up and makes a ponytail out of your hair, pulling it harshly. “Oh my God,” you repeat.

“Stop trying to fuck yourself on my cock,” Trevor admonishes. “Let me do the work, pretty girl. Let me make you feel good.” He lets go of your hair and his hand slides down to hold onto your hip, his other hand resting there already. He speeds up, bucking his hips into you hard and fast, making you shift forward with every thrust. If you thought about it too long, you’d feel the dull pain of the counter pressing against your skin, but right now, all you can focus on is the pleasure of his cock meeting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Trevor,” you whine, dropping your head and reaching down to try and get a hand on your clit. “Please,” you beg, needing just a bit more. 

He raises a hand and spanks you hard enough to leave a pink handprint. He steps back and pulls you with him, so you can reach a hand between your legs and rub furious circles on your swollen bud. Trevor soothes the handprint on your ass with a rub before bringing it down again just to watch the way your ass jiggles. His hips jump when you clench down on him after the impact and Trevor suddenly realizes just how close he is to coming.

“Fuck,” he hisses, bending over and plastering his chest against your back. He reaches around you with both hands, his right battering your hand away to rub your clit for you and his left coming up to your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. 

The added stimulation sends shivers up your spine and you can’t help the noises that spill out of you.

“Close, baby?” Trevor asks, eyes boring into yours in the mirror.

“So close,” you reply. “Please, Trevor.” You’re not even sure what you’re begging for, what more he could even do for you since his cock is thrusting inside you and hitting all the right spots and his hands feel like they’re everywhere all at once. 

Trevor moans in your ear, thrusting somehow harder into you. “Been thinking about you like this all night,” he groans, then presses a kiss to your shoulderblade. “Show me again how gorgeous you look when you come, baby?”

Maybe it’s the tilt of his head and the way his eyes soften as they meet yours in the mirror, or maybe it’s the way he sounds like he’s pleading with you, like it’s a privilege to see you come undone on his cock. Maybe it’s the fact that you can feel him pulsing inside of you, his thrusts becoming more and more stuttered as he gets closer, but holds off because he wants you to reach that point first. 

No matter the reason, within a split second of Trevor asking you to show him what you look like when you come, your legs begin to shake and you can’t even manage to keep your head up as you let go. Trevor grabs your hair and lifts your head again, and you clench down on him as your vision goes white and your climax overcomes you. 

You hear a strangled moan behind you and feel him let go, painting your walls white as he releases inside you and continues to fuck you through your release. You’re breathless and when your vision returns, you think he’s beautiful behind you, eyes closed and mouth open. Your heart clenches at the sight and you wonder if, in another life, you’d have him like this every night.

“Fuck,” he whispers into the silence after you both have come down from your orgasms. 

“Yeah,” you reply, and you almost frown at the loss when he pulls out of you. You jump when he swipes a finger over your folds and collects some of the fluid that’s leaking out of you.

Trevor turns you around and brings his wet fingers to your lips, staring into your eyes with a silent question. You open your mouth as an answer and suck the come off his fingers, a mixture of both of your pleasure that almost makes you want him again. 

His mouth parts slightly as he stares at your lips around his fingers. He’s lost in the moment as you swirl your tongue around his digits, the same way you would if it were his cock. “You’re so hot,” he mumbles, sounding almost disappointed. “But you know that I’m–”

“Just visiting,” you interrupt, letting his fingers fall from your mouth. You give him a soft smile, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “I know.”

“You were amazing,” he tells you. “Just…” he trails off, then sighs. “Amazing.”

“You weren’t too bad yourself, hotshot,” you reply, leaning up to give him a brief peck on the lips. His hands find their way around your waist and his lips follow yours when you pull away. “But you wouldn’t want to worry your roommate in the hotel, would you? Out so late, they might be scared that you got lost or…”

Trevor lets out a little huff of laughter and bites your lip playfully. “I don’t think he missed me.” He pulls back. 

You pull your dress down so you’re completely covered again. “Well, Trevor, if you’re ever back in town,” you offer, knowing that it’s probably never going to happen again and that this was a spur of the moment thing. “I’ll be here.”

He nods, leaning down to kiss you one more time. You turn around to fix your hair in the mirror, watching him as he retreats, opening the bathroom door and exiting through it. You’ll probably never see him again, but hey, a girl can always hope.

notes: happy first "posted on tumblr & shared in a way that will impact my digital footprint"! this fic comes at the encouragement of my friend hannah (@johncena2020) & trevor was chosen by the one and only wheelofnames.com. let me know your thoughts/comments/concerns/quibbles/questions & reach out if you want!! i'm looking to write as much as i can to get over the bit of writer's block i have had since, like, forever... and smut seems like the perfect way to do it since i'm a huge consumer of the nhl smut genre. xoxoxoxo hugs and kisses always, andy girl <3

[sugarbag]

✰﹣𝗱𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗯𝘆 𝗵𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗰𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗼𝗻𝘀 :)

abby anderson x fem!reader

𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀. what i think being in a relationship with abby would be like! (i have brainrot)

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀. none i think, apart from poor writing because it's 2am 🤡 reader is referred to as girl a few times and it's implied that reader has long hair

FLUFF.

an. ummm so im officially obsessed with abby. theres a part at the end thats very specific for black women because self-insert 💅 but i'll put a little ✰ beforehand! english is still not my first language :) if you enjoy this pleeease let me know!

- ok so first of all, abby is baby. she is soooo serious about nicknames it's adorable!! once you start calling her by a nickname it better stick because she will literally pout all day if you call her abby. if you do her call something other than a cheesy nickname, she really likes abigail. the way it rolls off your tongue, the way it feels like she's owned by you when you call her that, it makes her giddy :)

for you, she goes for "sweet girl" or "angel" :))

-is a clean freak. like an actual freak. she WILL bully you into folding your socks neatly next to hers and god forbid you leave crumbs in bed

-i do not care what anybody says, abby is an ass girl. when you're cuddling, her hand always finds its way to your behind. and when you question her about it, she says it must be sorcery.

of course, she loves every part of you but dat ass... do not bend over near her, she absolutely will fake fuck you from the back and put her whole heart into it. im talking grunting and moaning and you're just standing there like🤰

- she's such a great cook! she learned how to cook with her dad and after his passing, it became a way to feel closer to him. so she cooks for you all the time and acts grumpy when you call her your little housewife but she loves it really :)

-FOREHEAD KISSES‼️especially if there's a height difference, shes such a sucker for those! receiving and giving of course

- please play with her hair :( if you don't know how to braid, she'll teach you :(( BRAID IT OMGGG she loves when you do anything with her hair, brush it, braid it or just pass your hand in it, she'll take anything :) she'll only let you touch her hair, especially if it's undone and her beautiful blonde strands are on display goshhhh

- she will 100% let you paint her nails whatever color you want. no questions asked.

- shares everything with you. sometimes not even on purpose. like her clothes are your clothes and vice versa, you two basically have one big closet. gives you her jacket (the WLF one:)) you want some fries from abby's plate? done. you like her pine scented bodywash a little too much? it's yours :)

- absolutely HATES horror movies. she cannot stand them, maybe a few classics not too gorey but either way she just doesnt watch them. truth is she's a scaredy cat when it comes to horror movies, so when you insist to watch one together, you see your 6ft tank of a girlfriend with her eyes half open and flinching at every noise. truly an hilarious sight. if you watch horror movies alone, she'll just stand like a dad and never sit down because it scares her less that way lol🧍‍♀️

- ok so she's not big on pda but god is she clingy. she never lets go of you (not that you're complaining), always wants to touch you in some way, wether its by holding you hand or having her hand in your back pocket :)

- takes you on surprise dates!! you randomly get texts like "are you busy rn? the museum is open👀" or "it's been a while since we've been at the park. put your shoes on" XJDJSBD

- acts like she hates sunscreen just so that you'll have to put it on for her and smirks the whole time

- takes all the space in bed and when you complain about it, she just puts you on top of her "there, you go angel, got enough space now?"

- SHE LOVES CUDDLING big spoon, little spoon or just being intertwined on your shared bed, she just loves physical touch, ESPECIALLY yours <3

- she's an early bird. i believee abby has the sleep schedule of a grandpa, so she goes to sleep at 9pm sharp and wakes up at 5am to go to the gym. once you tried to persuade her to stay up longer and you got to 10:30pm🙀

- if you go to the gym with her, she'll be like a little kid, all excited to show you around and stays with you the whole time to teach you some exercises. doesn't matter if you know them already, she WILL show you everything

- is a bigggg fan of deep conversations. very early in your relationship, the two of you would have hours long conversations about literally anything. but at some point, you realize you've been talking for a while and abby's just sitting there, gazing at you and admiring everything about you. the way you talk, your voice, the little mimics you make or the way you move your hands when you're animated.. yeah she's down bad.

- she lovesss when you do skincare together, pretended like she hated it at first but she just feels so comfortable with you, she feels at ease. she can relax more and having a sheet mask on with cucumber slices under her eyes is surprisingly relaxing

- her main love languages are physical touch (i know, shocker), gift giving and quality time!

- gifts you sooooo many plushies but pouts when you put them on your bed?? and you're like, "where else should i put them?" and when she points to the closet, you're so offended. they're your babies they are not going in the closet. when you're both laying on the bed, she gives them the stink eye >:

- loves being domestic. cooking together, cleaning together, going to the museum and talk about what you saw days after still, taking walks in the park like an old married couple :) she just can't wait to be your wife :))

✰ (a few thoughts about abby with a black gf!)

- STEALS YOUR SHAMPOO! and when you tell her about, she acts innocent as if her hair didn't smell like shea butter and coconut

- that woman is fascinated by your hair routine. every product you have, she tries it out on herself because she lovesss the smells. she could watch you do your hair for hours (she has)

- wants to help with wash day and she gives the best scalp massages. gets a bit messy if she helps you and definitely takes even more time but she's so precious when she does it :( "is the water too hot?" "is that okay?" "am i tugging too hard?"

- is a fucking beast when it come to braiding your hair once you teach her, she can do anything, box braids, cornrows, knotless, YOU NAME IT

- could watch you in the sun for hours (she does) in an every day context she already wants to stare at you all the time, but when your skin is glowing in the light? she looks at you like you hang the moon and stars

- she wears bonnets religiously and you have matching ones ughh thats too cheesy (but true)

LOOK AT HER‼️‼️

can you tell abby's my girlfriend??

tell me if you like it <3

✰﹣𝔰𝔲𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔟𝔞𝔤

[ladykailitha]

Around the World Part 6

Hello! And welcome to another chapter of this very underrated fic. Thank you to everyone who has given it love in the way of comments, reblogs/tags, and likes.

It's London calling! And we meet a Murray Bauman in the wild. Eddie and Steve get a little introspective and Steve does something rash.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

~

Their trip through the haunting and beautiful Ireland was amazing. So many tales and history. This is why Steve wanted to do more than just America like Eddie had originally wanted, because America just didn’t have the history Europe and other places did. Not unless you wanted to disturb actual First Nation people and that was something he wanted to avoid at all cost, thank you.

They were on the ferry from Northern Ireland to Scotland and Steve was looking out over his shoulder at the water as he leaned against the guardrail. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes, allowing the wind to blow through his hair.

Eddie slid his arm around him and Steve laid his head on his shoulder.

Today Eddie had his beard and faux-dreadlocks in a light blue button up shirt and cream colored wide-legged pants. His chunky sunglasses covered the his face.

“You know,” Eddie murmured, “until we reached this leg of our journey and you started to disguise me, I didn’t realize how much I missed just being Eddie Munson, regular guy. I can really see the appeal of you and friends’ way of doing it.”

“Yeah,” Steve said softly. “Of course it means that we can’t go all out and buy everything we want, stay in fancy hotels, show up at restaurants without a reservation and get in. But I can go into my local grocery store and buy two tubs of mint ice cream because I felt like it.” He lifted his head to look Eddie in the eye. “Like some Karen would judge me, but it’s not going to go up on TMZ that I’m letting myself go.”

God, Eddie had had that happen more times than he cared to count. Like once Chrissy was on her period and he went to go get her chocolate, Ben and Jerry’s, and pads. Before he even got to his car it was all over the internet that he was letting himself go, just because it was 2am and his best friend needed something to help her feel better.

“You think you’ll ever come out?” he asked, pulling Steve in closer.

It was a familiar and well-worn topic of theirs; whether or not Steve would ever come out as bisexual at least.

He ducked his head and looked away. He didn’t know. He didn’t like hiding parts of himself for those he loved. He would like to tell people this is the love of my life.

“Would you leave me if I said no?” he mumbled, not daring to look up.

Eddie placed his finger under Steve’s chin and lifted his head gently. “Of course not, Stevie. There are literal actors who have been married for years and no one knows. It’s just between them. We could do that too. Just a quiet ceremony, Robin and Chrissy as the witnesses, and a justice of the peace.”

Steve let out a weak sort of watery laugh and shook his head. “I want all our friends there, famous and otherwise. I want a full tilt party with music playing into the early hours of the morning. I want fancy tuxes and flowers galore. I know I might not get that, the absolute coward that I am. But if I marry you, it be to scream from the rooftops that I love you.”

Eddie bumped their shoulders together. “Softy.” Steve blushed. “Besides there is nothing in the world that says we can’t have it both ways. Have a quiet little ‘just us’ and then go full tilt when you come out. You don’t even have to tell anyone. Just a little comfort that I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve pressed a gentle kiss to Eddie’s cheek. “I’ll think about it.”

Eddie kissed him deeply and then tucked his head under his chin and they stayed like that until the ferry docked in Scotland.

~

God, Scotland and England were beautiful countries Eddie decided as he watched the rolling green hills from his train window. That was another thing he really liked about Europe in general, just all the different ways to travel that weren’t a car.

He looked over at Steve who had his glasses on and reading a book. He smiled at the title. His boyfriend wasn’t a fantasy fan or science fiction either, really, but put a clever mystery in his hands and you would have to pry to the book from his cold, dead fingers.

He glanced over at Chrissy and Robin who were playing Go Fish! They had asked him if he wanted to join them, but he passed. He rarely got time to just relax and watch the scenery go by when he was on tour. He was always doing something related to the band. Writing music, practicing, talking about the next venue, interview, or TV spot.

Him and his friends had fun, because of course they did. But it was nice to just let his mind wander. Currently he was sad that they were going to have to miss Wales this time. He really wanted to buy some Welsh gold jewelry. It’s super rare and absolutely gorgeous.

Maybe he would have to come back later and get something special for Steve. Just something simple like matching bands even if it wasn’t on the left hand. Or necklaces. Just something simple to prove they were it for each other.

“I made an appointment with a well-known tattoo artist in London,” Steve said nonchalant, but like he was reading Eddie’s thoughts.

Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to Steve. Robin nearly giving herself whiplash in her speed.

“As your friend, manager, and platonic soulmate,” she said darkly, “I advise against that. You can cover it up but someone, somewhere will see it.”

Steve looked up from his book and leveled her with his best bitchy glare. “Not if it’s on my ass.”

Chrissy and Eddie’s eyebrows shot up and they shared a shocked glance. Eddie always loved tattoos, he had a couple of stick and poke style ones from when he was young and stupid and couldn’t afford to pay for an artist to do the job, but there was one place, well technically two if you included his dick, which he absolutely did, that he refused to get a tattoo on and that was his ass. Not being able to sit down properly for what would probably be weeks was not his idea of a good time.

“Not really, though, right?” Chrissy asked with a grimace.

Steve took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Of course not really. Sheesh, you guys. But I hid fucking hickies from the both of you for a year and you never noticed, so I’m pretty sure I can hide one fucking tattoo.”

Robin and Chrissy shared their little ‘manager’ glance and Chrissy folded first.

“You’re right, Steve,” she said calmly. “Not once did you forget or slip up and you should be applauded for that. But is there a reason you’re deciding to get a tattoo now instead of waiting until we’re back in the States and you can use Eddie’s personal artist?”

He looked over at Robin and their little telepathy thing went off again and this time Robin folded first.

“It’s for Eddie,” she murmured. “They can’t be out as a couple and with Steve being the romantic that he is, wouldn’t want to get married without all his friends there, so this is his way of telling Eddie he isn’t going anywhere either.”

Eddie blinked for a moment. “Do you think they take walk-ins?”

“I booked it for both of us.” Steve smiled at him and took his hand. Eddie beamed back at him.

“They are so disgustingly cute,” Robin huffed, crossing her arms. “I bet Steve has this really sweet idea for a tattoo that even if people do notice it they won’t be able to tell the meaning but he and Eddie will know and be so sickeningly precious about it.”

Eddie gave him a huge kiss on the cheek. “I love my super clever boyfriend and can’t wait to see what this brilliant plan is.”

~

Steve’s brilliant plan was half of a white mask on Eddie’s inner wrist and half of guitar on Steve’s and when they held hands it formed almost heart.

The tattoo artist was really impressed with the idea and was more than happy to implement it. Steve walked out of there, completely smug as Chrissy pointed out. Deservedly so.

They were to stay in London for three days because of all the haunted places in London alone, there were so many worth visiting. They were going to start at Jack the Ripper tour and move onto the tour of London.

The tour they learned with deep dismay had accidentally been scheduled at 2pm and not 2am like Eddie had thought it said. It was so boring and their tour guide so dull, Eddie accidentally tripped of one of those concrete pillars they had in the middle of the sidewalk to prevent cars from driving up on it.

“Oof!” Eddie wheezed as he straightened up. “Why do they even put those things here?”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” a nasally voice said from behind them. “What are you doing in my neck of the woods?”

They all turned slowly to see a weaselly little bald man with thick horn-rimmed glass.

“Holy shit,” Chrissy said slowly. “Murray Bauman, as I live and breath. What the hell are you doing in London?”

He shrugged. “Eking out a living doing tours for bored tourists. When the biggest metal band in the world drops you, so does everyone else.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a grimace. Corroded Coffin had deliberately did that to Nancy after the shit she pulled with Steve and trying to be The Fallen’s agent. But this one was a complete accident.

“Oh fuck off,” Robin said with a grin. “You love it. I can tell. You have actual notes written down, you have a map marked with all the spots the murders take place. I bet you have all the great stories.”

Murray flushed and cocked his head to the side. “I mean I didn’t want to brag. But yeah, certainly better than Molly over there.” He jutted his thumb at their tour guide. “Most of the good ones are from tour companies and then you get people like Molly who make it look legit online and trick people into taking day tours.”

“God, I was so bored,” Eddie huffed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I felt jet lagged.”

Murray’s eyes instantly narrowed and cocked his head to the side and instantly everyone else tensed up. He took in their reactions and mimed zipping his mouth shut.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, “if you’re still in town tomorrow, meet me here at 9pm and I’ll give you a proper tour.”

Chrissy licked her lips slowly. “Or what?”

“Huh?” He was confused for a moment before he smacked his forehead. “Oh! No, no. I’m not going to blackmail you. Holy shit. If people want to enjoy a vacation without all the publicity, good on them.” He looked Eddie up and down. “Looks good on you kid.”

Eddie was suddenly glad for the large sunglasses and beard because it hid the blush on his cheeks.

“No, I’m just saying,” Murray continued, “that if you wanted to experience a proper Jack the Ripper tour, I’m willing to do it. I don’t have a tour currently booked and beside I like her.” He pointed at Robin, who grinned back him.

The four them all shared glances at each other.

“I’m down,” Steve said with a shrug. “If you’re as good as you say you are and aren’t trying to actively ‘get back’ at Chrissy for taking your job, I know I’d be interested in seeing what Whitechapel has to offer after dark.”

“I like him too,” Murray said brightly, rubbing his hands together. “So what do the rest of you say?”

“Aye, aye, Captain!” Steve’s three menaces said together.

He just smiled fondly and shook his head.

~

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95 @garden-of-gay

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina

[starmocha]

never the same Rafayel/MC | 2216 words | AO3 She will be his magnum opus. A/N: Uhh…this can be interpreted as sharing the same timeline as “the day bleeds into nightfall” or it’s in its own individual timeline. Not sure if it explains my mental state, but I wrote this while playing Kitty Cards at 2am.

He had that dream again.

Or rather, it was that nightmare that continued to play on loop every time he closed his eyes.

As the sun glared into his face, Rafayel blinked his grogginess away, his mind still lingering in a haze as the last remnants of his dream slipped away. His eyes adjusted to the room, and he remembered. As he sat up, groaning at the back pain, he realized he had fallen asleep on the wooden floor in the living room again.

He had lost count of how many times that had happened in the last four months. He cradled his head in his hand, groaning as he heard Thomas’ voice ringing in his ears over and over again:

Rafayel…I’m sorry…She is…

Rafayel groaned aloud, burying his face into his hands, wishing he was still asleep, just trapped in a horrendous dream waiting to wake up. He heaved and sobbed, just wishing he could bury the memory of that horrible day, but no matter how strongly he willed it, Thomas’ voice cut through, pained and saddened, but nowhere near the level of grief that consumed Rafayel:

She is…

“…dead.” He stared soullessly at his destroyed studio, canvases were smashed, incinerated, or shredded mercilessly with his blade during his rage. Paintbrushes were snapped like toothpicks while paint splattered everywhere like a crime scene.

Rafayel no longer found joy in his studio. He had not held a brush or pencil in four months except to destroy them in his grief and anger. There was no longer any inspiration or passion for his paintings just like how he no longer found any reason to wake up.

When she had left, she had taken all of the colors out of his palette.

The world had turned to gray, and he found himself stuck in a stagnant, his days repeating the same as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, looking at the messages he had sent over the months to someone who would never be able to respond to him again. He looked at the last conversation he had sent, just a month earlier:

do you know what the most heartbreaking thing in the world is

withered flowers beached fish

and me when i cant see you

Rafayel sighed and leaned against the window, his eyes drifting to the sparkling sea outside. The water seemed so inviting, like she was inviting him back into her embrace, urging him to let her lull him to sleep and forget this unrelenting pain.

He turned his gaze back down to his phone in his hand, his eyes drifting to the next conversation, dated two months ago:

its been a week and still cant paint anything

i think my inspiration left with something

His breath grew ragged as he scrolled up.

no motivation to paint these days

should i shut myself in

He scrolled up to three months earlier, recalling when he was finally starting to allow the notion that she was gone to enter his mind. He gripped his phone tightly as his hand trembled.

dun even remember what day it is today

the sea outside looks blue but also gray

a gray sea sounds pretty cool? maybe the entire world was gray from the start

He scrolled up to the first text conversation he had sent four months earlier, just three days after Thomas had revealed the devastating news to the painter and subsequently after his own vandalism of his studio.

thomas asked me why i didnt clean up my studio yesterday

nobodys coming over so why would i

When she had left, she had forsaken him again.

He knew she never did it willingly, never intending to hurt him, but the pain was all the same. For once, Rafayel found himself actually walking to his bedroom and laying down on the plush mattress to stare at the domed ceiling overhead. It was still dusk, but within just a few minutes, nightfall would take over, and the stars would come out to shine and illuminate the sky.

He raised his phone, covering his view of the glass dome. His eyes focused in on the last text message she had sent him shortly before her final mission:

Gonna send you messages in drift bottles LOL

The reception is going to be really bad in the mountains. I promise I’m not ignoring you, so don’t freak out again. We’ll go eat seafood when I’m back home! Or do you want sushi again? Make a decision before I come home!

“Neither,” he mumbled to the quiet room, his eyes already drifting back to the first word of the message as he reread it again and again and again, until the sound of waves finally lulled him to sleep under the starry sky.

When she had left, he wished to return to the ocean, becoming the seafoam and forget the cutting pain of mortal life.

The dream was always that same scene of Thomas breaking the news to Rafayel, but each time he had had the dream, the words started getting more muffled, like they were underwater.

This time was no different as Rafayel closed his eyes, wishing to drown out the words and forget the pained look on his agent’s face. When he opened his eyes again, he realized he was underwater. His face relaxed, feeling the familiar cool water embraced him. The brief moment of serenity did not last long, though, as his sight caught a glimpse of a figure slowly sinking into the dark depths of the ocean.

His chest ached with a searing hot pain, his heart responding to her as she drifted further and further away from him. His body went into auto-mode, unaware of the instinctual changes as fin replaced the human legs he had previously. He swam with the swift speed of a black marlin, but no matter how close he should be getting to her, she was always cruelly pulled further out of his reach.

His voice called out to her, his throat raw with pain and desperation as he screamed and reached out, silently begging for their fingers to just touch.

“Come back…” His fin thrashed in the water, propelling him deeper into the cold darkness. He extended his arm, reaching desperately for her limp hand. “Come back…back…to me…”

As the darkness enveloped her, Rafayel woke up screaming and shaking, his chest tightening with pain as the dream replayed over and over in his mind. He buried his face into his hand, screaming and cursing for anyone to hear him.

“Why…why…wh…”

Just how many lifetimes was he supposed to endure, only for her to slip through his fingers like sand time and time again?

Rafayel mindlessly browsed a shopping website on his phone, just adding products after products to his cart without thinking about the actual necessity of the items or the prices. He also ordered art supplies again: new canvases, paint, and tools, but as he finalized the payment, he felt the same emptiness, the lack of desire to create.

His orders arrived the next day, sitting outside the studio for hours until Thomas stopped by and helped hauled the packages inside.

Along with his presence, Thomas had also brought along a bag of takeout food.

“It’s just fried chicken,” his agent commented, laying the greasy fast food out on the kitchen counter. “But it’s better than not eating.” The brunet looked at the painter with shades of disappointment and worries. “When was the last time you have eaten, Rafayel?”

Rafayel leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over his chest, and shrugged. “Dunno. Wednesday?”

“It’s Friday today,” Thomas bit out immediately, voice tinged with a layer of frustration. He sighed, reining in his emotions. “Just eat something. I have a meeting with the press in two hours. What should I tell them about your next project?”

Rafayel walked over and bit into a chicken tender strip. “Ugh, bland,” he quipped, tone unchanging. He waved off Thomas’ question. “Tell them I became a hermit. I ran away and I’m not painting anymore.”

Thomas crossed his arms and looked at Rafayel with a shake of his head, sensing that Rafayel was trying to maintain his usual flippant attitude, but this time, though, the once normal exaggeration seemed genuine. “I’ll tell them you are taking a break then.”

Rafayel waved him off without a glance as he stared at the array of fried chickens, buttered toast, onion rings, and a soda on the counter. “Should I make a sandwich…”

He placed the toast on a plate, spreading mayonnaise on the bread before stacking two chicken tenders and a large onion ring on top. He closed his creation with another slice of toast, pressing down on the sandwich before taking a bite, wishing he could go back to that perfect evening when she and him had shared a similar homecooked meal together.

Days slipped by in the usual monotony of disinterest and solitude, but sometimes Rafayel would break the cycle and sit down on the floor in front of the coffee table with Reddie’s fish bowl on top.

He watched the little fish swim in circles for hours, both of them unaware of the passage of time.

“Do you miss her?” Rafayel asked the fish. “Do you think about her?”

The Lemurian listened to his fish companion respond, and he sighed empathetically. “I do, too,” he admitted quietly as he reached for the bottle of fish food. He gave three light taps, watching the little round pellets float on the surface of the fish bowl.

Reddie immediately swam to the bottom of his bowl, hiding within the modest decorations to avoid his owner.

Rafayel frowned.

“You need to eat,” he scolded the little fish.

Reddie peeked out and opened his mouth, seemingly echoing the same words back to his owner.

For a moment, silence filled the studio, the only sound heard were the waves crashing on the shore outside and sea gulls crying overhead. Eventually, Rafayel relented.

“Yeah, okay,” he muttered, standing up and heading into the kitchen, unaware that Reddie swam to the top of his bowl and began eating again.

Rafayel knew there was no correct or concrete unanimous consensus for the exact appropriate time to grieve, but he still found himself angry with everyone.

The world was already moving on. Her former co-workers have already returned to some semblance of normalcy without her. No one mentioned her or her name. Strangers who had only met her once or pass by her unspoken had no idea a fair maiden had been taken from the world, her mere life exchanged for the sake of others.

The very thought enraged him, igniting the flames within himself.

She would not be forgotten, he vowed. Not by him and not by the world. For the remainder of this mortal life, he would pour his heart and soul into preserving her existence.

Rafayel picked up a paintbrush for the first time in months and he stepped forward, his sight set on the enormous canvas that claimed the entire studio wall.

My magnum opus.

The studio filled up with canvases of varying sizes, all at different stages of completion. Many of them were deemed as failed attempts to capture her beauty, her soul, her existence. Crumbled sketches scattered across the floor, surrounding Rafayel as he lay there staring up at the ceiling. Occasionally his eyes drifted to the large canvas waiting for him to start adding paint strokes to it.

It was not time yet. He hadn’t perfected her, still needing to practice recreating every single part of her on sketch papers and smaller canvases. He needed to perfect the curves of her body as she moved and swayed, capture the way her hair had flowed, and mix the perfect shade of paint that truly was reminiscent of her beautiful eyes.

Rafayel was in a hypnotized daze, losing himself to his newfound obsession of preserving her memory for the world to see.

She was here.

She was here.

She was here.

Through his paintings, he was going to scream to the world that she was here and she would be immortalized alongside the great muses of the past. He surrendered himself to endless nights of painting, trapped in a frenzy as he hurried to capture the images in his mind before they slipped away.

“…here…she was here…” His hand glided across the canvas as his chest throbbed, the desperation to hold onto the image in his mind was etched on his face as he moved quickly to preserve it. “She…is here…”

Dawn broke through the night, the orange glow of the sun taking over, its light creeping into the studio as Rafayel staggered back from his latest creations. He smiled, delirious from the recent spells of sleep deprivation, his eyes taking in the portrait of her he had painted a week prior. The beauty before him smiled radiantly against the backdrop of a blue sky, her eyes locked on his, beckoning him closer to her with an outstretched hand.

One day, in a new lifetime, they will be together again.

“For ‘tis Lemuria’s vow…” he murmured, stepping forward and letting his lips meet hers on the canvas. His eyes closed as he shuddered and sighed, his hand splayed over hers.

A bond everlasting.

[hazymoonlinh]

Art.

Logos x Reader

(Reader can be doctor if you want)

Why am I cooking this at 2AM 💀🤟

…

___

“Who should you love?”

It was a title of a post that y/n saw one day. It was a boring night after all, so she didn’t scroll down, instead, she keeps reading it.

You should love a poet, a musician, a painter.

An artist.

Because when they love you, they will create masterpieces of you.

Y/n thinks this is something that only happened in stories, so she just let out a silent chuckle.

But oh now how wrong that is.

Unknowingly to her, she’s now the muse of one.

That man, that artist was Aefanyl.

And you too, are an artist of love.

___

Logos will not admit it to anyone, but you've become his muse. The way you talk, the way you laugh, the way you smile.

Everything about you is a masterpiece to him, one that he wants to commit to memory, to write poems, to immortalize it with words...

But most importantly, to hold you close to his chest, to feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat against his, the feel of your breathing, the sound of his name...

His name, on your lips.

He feels... inspired... to write. For the first time in a while, Logos feels the inspiration hit him. He knows what he wants to write. That spark of inspiration he hadn't felt in quite awhile.

His pen moved with new found vigor, his words flowing...

It's you.

Logos use a bone pen to elegantly cast incantation, a bone flute to let the banshee's music echo.

Being a Sarkaz means using even those things to fight, to accept the blood flowing in his veins, to fight for eternity without rest.

The talented young Banshee has known it since he has awareness of his surroundings.

But now,

He finds himself writing poems with that pen, instead of casting spells or incantation.

Or playing a tune for you to hear, this time the song doesn’t burn his blood anymore.

_____

You haven’t touch the brush for a very long time, it has become dusty under a pile of old documents. But now, you saw yourself painting him, the brushstrokes are a bit different.

He has the most beautiful appearance that you have ever seen. Even prettier than a lot of woman.

Delicate features as if crafted by the gods themselves, long eye lashes, soft lips, smooth skin.

His red iris-a red iris is truly mesmerizing, almost otherworldly in its intensity. Its vivid hue is captivating, exuding a sense of mystery and rare beauty.

The deep, rich color draws you in like a gemstone glowing with an inner fire, making it impossible to look away. It’s a bold and stunning feature that leaves a lasting impression, hinting at stories untold behind those eyes.

After finishing the painting, you feel a pride in your chest. But what do you do with it now? Whatever, let’s just hang it in your room.

You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain

Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape

________

Logos once wish that his mother would sing him the elegy if he dies in the battlefield, that way he would be in the arms of his kind until the end.

But now, with you here, he wishes to live a bit longer, praying to himself.

“Please, let me stay with her until the very end.”

He wants you to also sing the elegy. Logos's mind is filled with the thought of you. That was his new wish, with the thought that if he's to die one day, he'll die at least knowing you'll be singing for him...

Love still bloom in this doomed world, like how he still finds his way back to you after every battle he faced. In your arms, he’s not the lord of the Banshee, nor Logos, just Aefanyl.

He loves all of it. The way you laugh, the way you smile, the way you hold him. He loves it all. He loves *you.*

The way you kiss him, the sounds you make, the way you hold him close, the way you wrap your legs around him. The way he gets to hold you close, to feel your breathing and your heart next to his.

He can't seem to get enough of it.

_____

He finishes writing, quietly setting his pen and paper aside before gently holding you close against his chest, his lips pressing gently against your forehead.

(It’s 3:30 now bye 💀)

[f1shart]

all i wanted to do ALL I WANTED TO DO was make tank bear hug almeric in game. so i turned them into teens. then i wanted to turn the other housemates (aldric & stella) into teens...... THEN i thought hey. how about

lft if it was a boarding/high school and all the students were really cute and dorky teens. i guess. (long post) help me

* some pics have alt texts

THE NERDS ARE FIGHTINGGGG

did not mean for these two to be so 80s revival x y2k but im not complaining at all

because it's a lot im cramming the rest of the students under a readmore ☠️💔

oh my fucking GOD hes so kawayi. need him rn

HELLO? WHO THE FUCK IS THIS GUY? that's not mickey that's mikey

i tried to plastic surgery him to fix his broken template while trying to make him look like a younger version of himself but im not used to sculpting in ts2 😬 might give him his stubble back but i still think hes a cutie patootie otherwise

🎧🎶 CAN U SEE THE VISION CLEARLY..... THE FRAT BOYS ARE THE PRIMARY COLORS ☝️🤓💛❤️💙 please. i thought i was really funny and clever for that one. please clap. i am writing this at 2am

MIGHT change jasmine's fit too (i'd rather her look more punk than goth) but i really like her emo hair.. like it's literally her normal spacebuns with emo bangs. isn't that amazing

UGH DID THEY HAVE TO MAKE TEENS' EYES SO HUGE 🥺🥺 DUDE. THEY'RE BABIES.

FINALLY: student housing (literally never play these guys i dont care much for them and it shows in their designs but i did think blossom's was really cute)

worst part about this is that they age back up when you reload the lot (to my understanding - cause im stupid and didnt move them from la fiesta) so i'd have to age them back down again and potentially rechoose all their outfits ☠️☠️ noo thank you..

this beautified LFT campus is by @katatty their builds are SO AWESOME honest to god i audibly gasped when i saw how pretty the dorms were esp the one i put student housing in

haven't hit the photo limit yet so bonus aesthetic picture!! <3

[sleepyboy-stuff]

hiii-!!! :3 saw your post about Logan requests and was thinkin' about (CG) Logan who gets up in the night (like in X2) and he sees reader regressed whilst watching TV or something and he looks after them for a bit, maybe convinces reader to go to sleep and helps settle them???

hope you're having an amazing day/evening/night!!! feel free to ignore this idea!!!

-🧸🌷(hope it's oki that I went anon, was a bit nervous 😅)

ollo!! thank you so much for your request, and its totally okay that you sent it on anon, i dont mind at all!! youre super sweet :]

anyways, uh, heres what i wrote! im super nervous to post this but, i hope you like it :D

It was late into the night-- probably around 2am, you guessed, but you didn't bother checking the clock. Most residents of Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters were fast asleep, and normally you were too. But tonight, you lay wide awake in your nest of blankets and pillows, hugging your favorite plushie and sucking on a pacifier as all sorts of thoughts ran through your mind.

Most prominent in your head was an overwhelming feeling of loneliness. This always happened when you were little; if you were alone for longer than 15 minutes, The Sadness started creeping in, and there was nothing you could do to stop it. Usually you could distract yourself, by coloring or playing games on your phone or something, but tonight you were practically drowning in it.

Your heart ached for someone, anyone, to come and comfort you, but you knew nobody would. Especially not the person you really wanted: Logan.

You considered going to his room and waking him up, but you knew you couldn't do that. He wasn't the most strict caregiver, but he did have one very harsh rule: you can't bother him when he's sleeping, and you can't sleep with him. You knew it was because of his nightmares, but still, you missed him.

Tears were welling up in your eyes. You didn't know how long you'd just been sitting there, but suddenly, you decided you'd had enough of it. You sat up and wiped the tears away with your sleeve, shuffling out of bed with your plushie in tow.

And that was how you ended up here in the common room, watching Spongebob Squarepants on the big TV (with your plushie sitting next to you), giggling to yourself.

You were drawn into the cartoon, happy to finally get away from your feelings. So distracted, you didn't even notice the figure that appeared behind you.

"You're up late."

You squeaked in surprise, your head whipping around to find none other than Logan leaning up against the doorway, one eyebrows raised.

You stared at him with wide eyes, not knowing what to say.

He walked over to the couch, sitting down next to you with a huff. "What're you doing up, kid?"

You hesitantly took your pacifier out of your mouth to speak. "Couldn' sleep."

He grunted. "Yeah, me neither."

"Nightmares?"

"Yeah."

You wrapped your arms around his torso, resting your head on his shoulder. It was a bit of an awkward angle, coming at him from the side, but you made it work. "'m sorry."

"It's alright, kid. It's not like it's your fault," he said, resting his hand on your back.

You snuck your pacifier back into your mouth, but you didn't let Logan go, snuggling into him instead. He was always warm, and warm felt so cozy. He's even better than a blankie, you thought, as his hand started moving up and down along your back. It was a comforting touch.

You tried to pay attention to the show, but pretty soon your eyelids started drooping; finally, you were falling asleep. And Logan noticed.

"Hey, maybe it's time we head back to bed, huh?" He patted your back and pulled himself away from you, standing up.

You began to whine at the loss of warmth, looking up at him with sad eyes. He only stared down at you with lidded eyes, not falling for your puppy-dog look. 

You pulled your pacifier out. "Can I sleep with you..?" You knew his answer would be no, but you asked anyways.

Logan took a moment to think. "... Sure, you can."

Your eyes widened. "Really?!"

"Yeah. Just as long as you don't move around too much."

You felt a smile dawn on your face, and you popped your pacifier back in your mouth before you jumped up into his arms. He held you up easily, and you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"There we go," he murmured, walking out of the room. The TV was still on, but neither of you really cared.

Eventually, the two of you ended up in Logan's room. He gingerly set you down on his bed, and you pulled back the covers, crawling underneath them. He slid in beside you, pulling the blanket over your bodies before sliding his arms around you. You cuddled close together, and the room lapsed into silence, no noise except for the sounds of soft breathing.

In the end, you did fall asleep, secure in Logan's arms. But what you didn't know is that Logan never fully fell asleep himself. He laid awake the rest of the night, watching over you, keeping his little safe.

[justanotherbirdbrain-blog]

Fields of Mistria: Initial thoughts of a Geologist

I admit, this was a bit of an impulse purchase, I have never played Stardew or Harvest Moon (For this my review might be ignorant), it was never because I didn't like the concept, but when I was young my typical game was kind of whatever my brother played (so Pokémon, Star Wars battlefront, Sonic, Kirby, Skyrim, Animal Crossing, etc.). However, my TikTok feed was just FULL of people talking about this game, and I was actively avoiding thinking so I added it to the cart and purchased it.

I started the game immediately and was very confused but happy. The third character you talk to is obsessed with archeology and dabbles in geology, and one of his friends is obsessed with geology.

By this point I was kind of like "Okay, sign me up I am obsessed."

I grinded through the game, passing out at 2am frequently because I was not used to daily time limits, and completed the storyline to open the mines (Which I was most excited to get a look at).

Going in the first levels were copper and ruby, the perfect copper ore did look right which was exciting, but the game did fall into the pitfall of showing gems as, like, already faceted and not their normal crystal structure. Which bummed me a little, but I kind of get it (if I have to).

The next layer of the mines has a water theme and you can mine for iron and sapphires, (I have yet to get any iron ore yet so I can't judge it). I will pause and admit this game clearly is not going for geologic accuracy, so I won't judge it based off what you are finding together.

I am just infinitely grateful that geology was even mentioned, that people aren't mining just for the money but have a general interest in it. I feel like most games just overlook it, so for that I thank you Fields of Mistria team!

Regardless of everything, before I say what I wish this game does have I want to preface by saying I was never upset while playing the game and I will continue to love and play this game and I will recommend it to just about everyone I talk to

What I wish this game had:

-Ore stones that were more accurate looking, it isn't like ore doesn't look interesting (malachite I am looking at you) I know they were probably trying to stick with a color theme, but even rubies are found within zoisite sometimes which is also a green rock.

-Accurate gemstone crystal structures, I desire it, especially when I see them using quartz crystals in other locations, like I know you are capable

-I admit I am not far into the game yet, but we have characters that are clearly interested in geology, I would love a side plot where we explore the geology of the area, just as we do with archeology. (It deserves the love)

-I want to display my gemstones and stuff in my house too!

Anywho... It has been awhile since I posted about a videogame I think, It has been nice! I am thinking about getting Rika on release, so more videogame posts might be incoming, both on Fields of Mistria and Rika. I might have to get Stardew also because I just looked something up and you can... BE A GEOLOGIST??? I think I really was sleeping on farming sim games...I will still post my writing content too, I have one in the works I just have been lazy about writing it.

[datura-tea]

holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)

^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!

memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long

2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!

i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially

2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.

fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.

this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe

2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol

2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived

2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha

2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of

2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!

2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium

2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind

2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!

2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!

all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖