#not that i don't understand the usefulness of drawing like that but its a lil miserable for me

[fortunately-bi]

I know I don't have many artist friends or followers on here but if anyone knows of any online courses or free classes or anything (honestly even if they're paid, as long as it's not like college stuff that requires my gpa or anything) for art, like figure drawing and anatomy and so on id really appreciate some help in my search

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist | Opt-in to my taglist here!

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!” You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[icrypop]

"Fatherly Advice"

TMNT 2012 Donatello

2012! Donnie x Fem! Reader

Fluuufffffyyyy

Hiya my lil bookworms, hope everyone is weellllll! I know its taken me a hot minute but my jobs kicking ass right now :') I'm so sorry and I'll try to update more but also give people chances to request!!! ANyway, thought this was cute cuz Splinter from 2012 is like... an awesome father figure and I love Donnie soooo- Here is some fluff!! Also, definitely make sure to check out writer Grem's stuff, they're working hard right now<3

ANYWAY, Requests are 100% open so pleaaaaseee ask away<33

-Writer Icy<3 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the serene and dimly lit dojo beneath the bustling streets of New York City, Master Splinter sat in quiet meditation. The soft glow of candlelight flickered against the walls, casting gentle shadows that danced around the room. His keen ears caught the sound of hesitant footsteps approaching.

"Enter," he called, his voice calm and inviting.

A young girl with h/c hair stepped into the dojo, her eyes filled with uncertainty. Y/n had been a friend of the Turtles for some time, often joining them on their adventures. Recently, however, her heart had become overwhelmed with emotions she struggled to understand.

"Master Splinter," Y/n began, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need your advice."

Splinter opened his eyes and looked at her with a kind and knowing gaze. "Sit, my child. Tell me what troubles you."

Y/n took a deep breath and sat cross-legged before the wise old rat. "I... I think I've caught feelings for Donatello," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "But I don't know what to do. I don't want to ruin our friendship or make things awkward between us, especially if he has a crush on April."

Splinter nodded slowly, considering her words. "Love is a powerful and beautiful emotion, Y/n. It is natural to feel uncertain when your heart is involved. Tell me, what is it about Donatello that draws you to him?"

Y/n smiled softly, her eyes lighting up as she thought of Donnie. "He's so intelligent and kind. He's always thinking of others and working so hard to help everyone. He's brave, but he also has this gentle side that... that makes me feel safe and cared for."

Splinter's whiskers twitched in amusement. "Donatello is indeed a remarkable young turtle. Your feelings for him are understandable and sincere."

Y/n sighed, her shoulders relaxing slightly. "But what if he doesn't feel the same way? Or what if it makes things complicated with the team?"

Splinter reached out and gently placed a hand on Y/n's shoulder. "In matters of the heart, there is always a risk. But love is not something to be feared. It is a gift to be cherished. If you speak honestly and openly with Donatello, you will find your path."

Y/n looked up at Splinter, her eyes filled with gratitude. "Thank you, Master Splinter. Your words mean a lot to me."

"Remember, Y/n," Splinter continued, "Love requires patience, understanding, and courage. If your feelings are true, they will find their way. And no matter the outcome, your bond with Donatello and the rest of the Turtles will endure."

Y/n nodded, feeling a sense of calm wash over her. "I will talk to him. Thank you for the advice sensei."

Splinter smiled warmly. "Go with confidence, my child. Trust in your heart and in Donatello's."

With newfound resolve, Y/n stood and bowed respectfully before leaving the dojo. As she made her way to the lab where Donatello was undoubtedly working on his latest invention, she felt a renewed sense of hope. Whatever the future held, she knew that Master Splinter's wisdom would guide her through the challenges ahead.

And in the quiet of the dojo, Splinter returned to his meditation, his heart full of pride for his son and the young girl who had bravely sought his counsel.

Donnie's POV~

Donatello adjusted his goggles, his focus completely absorbed by the precision needed to tend to the chemicals in front of him. The hum of machinery and the faint scent of chemicals filled the air, creating a familiar and comforting backdrop to his work. He was in his element, surrounded by the tools and gadgets that defined his world.

"Hey, Donnie," a voice called out, pulling him from his concentration.

He looked up, a smile spreading across his face as he saw Y/n standing at the entrance of his lab. Her presence was always a welcome distraction, though he could tell something was different this time. There was a nervousness in her eyes that made his heart skip a beat.

"Hey, Y/n! What's up? Need help with something?" he asked, setting his tools aside.

Y/n stepped closer, her eyes locking onto his. "Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something important."

Donatello's curiosity piqued, and he gave her his full attention. "Sure, what's on your mind?" He asked, raising his goggles.

Y/n took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly. "Donnie, we've been through a lot together, and I really value our friendship. But lately, I've been feeling something more. I think… I know...Okay...I have feelings for you Donnie."

Donatello's eyes widened in surprise, his mind racing to process her words. "Y/n, I… I don't know what to say."

Before he could find the right words, a loud hissing sound filled the lab. Donnie's eyes darted to a beaker on his workbench, which was boiling over and fizzing violently.

"Oh no!" he exclaimed, rushing to grab a towel.

Before he could reach it, the top of the beaker exploded with a small, harmless pop, sending a shower of foam and liquid across the lab. Donatello and Y/n were both splattered with the pink fizzing mixture.

For a moment, there was stunned silence. Then, Y/n burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Donatello couldn't help but join in, his own laughter filling the lab.

"Well, that was unexpected," Y/n said, wiping foam from her face.

Donnie grinned, shaking his head. "I guess I got a little distracted. Thankfully, the mixture wasn't harmful."

They both laughed again, the tension of the moment melting away. Donatello reached out and wiped a bit of foam from Y/n's cheek, his touch lingering a moment longer than necessary.

"You know, Y/n," he said softly, "even with exploding beakers, this has been one of the best moments of my life."

Y/n's heart swelled with warmth, and she leaned into his soft touch. "Mine too, Donnie."

Donatello took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers with a newfound determination. "Y/n, I need you to know something. I've had feelings for you too, for a long time. I was always afraid to say anything because I didn't want to risk our friendship. But now, I don't want to hide it anymore. I care about you so much and I do reciprocate those feelings."

Leah's eyes widened in surprise and joy. "Really? What about April?"

Donatello nodded, his expression earnest. "Yes, Y/n. I got over April. Look, You're amazing, and I want to be with you...I-If you'll be my girlfriend, that is..."

They stood there for a moment, Donnie reaching slowly to hold her hand gently. The world around them seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of them in their shared happiness.

In that moment she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close foe a hug. he hesitantly wrapped his arms around her, stiffly before relaxing slowly. It was quiet a promise of many more moments to come, filled with love, laughter, and the bond that had brought them together.

As they cleaned up the lab side by side, their hearts were light, knowing that they had taken the first step on a new and exciting journey together. Donatello couldn't help but feel a sense of joy and contentment, knowing that Leah felt the same way. And with her by his side, he knew that their adventures would be even more special.

Little did the duo know, Splinter was just outside, listening to the whole exchange with a proud smile on his face, "That's my son." he nodded and made his way back to the dojo to continue his meditation.

[quimichi]

Hi, I was hoping I could get a genshin and HSR match up if they're still open? I use she/her pronouns, and I have a romantic preference for men. I'm a big time introvert and not one for small talk but I always try to be polite and kind. I've been described as being too sensible by multiple people but I will also laugh at some of the dumbest stuff. My hobbies include writing, drawing and cooking, generally I like anything creative. I hope this is okay and that you have a lovely day!

A/n: I really hope you like my answer! I just thought that someone who can understand and appreciate you would fit so much more better than the opposite ♡

FREMINET

@ awww look at those two introverts in love ♡

@ understands you all to well. You want your peace and quite? He'll leave you to yourself and lets you draw, take a nap, read or whatever.

@ greatly appreciates if you'd do the same, but only really rarely. He does enjoy your company a lot! You bring him internal peace. Just having you sit beside him while he works on a new project really gives him motivation.

@ psst, he wants to show off, just a little ;)

@ takes you diving with him! I hope you're not scared of the ocean tho- if you are, he'll guide you through it. He never lets go of your hand, even if it means that he will have a constant blush on his face and butterflys in his tummy. If you really are way, WAY to scared tho, he would obviously never force you. You two just walk by the shore collecting some seashells!

@ and if you love/like the ocean, he would shyly ask you if you wanna join him. Like everytime he would ask you. Or at least if you wanna wait for him by the shore.

@ LOVES LOVES LOVES to see your drawings, if you wanna show them that is. He can also draw yk, so someone who shares the same talent would also mean for him to share his supplies. Dw, take them without asking, it's a relationship after all.

@ and if you want you can make designs for his toy projects for the kids!

@ Is just as sensitive as you, maybe more, maybe less. But what is definitely a fact, is that he will comfort you nonetheless. Depends on how you wanna be comforted tho. Bit i think his style would be, have a cup of tea and let it aaaall out. Vent on him, he can listen well.

@ the twins think you two were meant to be-! Really supportive of you two.@ And Father is just as happy, she can't show it, but you're part of the family now sooo...you better not hurt her boy :)

DAN HENG

@ well--if you love writing, you're prefect with dan heng cause he loves reading-

@ would understand if you don't want him to read your written pieces, but would feel very honored if you would show him. Even just a glimpse would get him to praise you.

@ if you do show him--damn he would unintentionally correct your grammar or phrasing. Not that he shits on your grammar, its just-idk how to describe it he means it really nice but in dan heng style it comes off more as cold

@ and the corrections of your phrasings are just ideas on how to change things or make it more interesting. He probably read more books than the whole astral express crew together, like easily.

@ thats why he would get it if you don't wanna show him---he's aware lol

@ BUT! what he would do 100% and nobody can stop him, is reading to you ♡

@ lay in his arms and relax. Let his soothing voice lull you to sleep~ And if you wanna read on your own, do that, he'll wait for you to turn the page.

@ would also 100% discuss what you two read afterwards lol. Like a lil bookclub

@ he can actually cook, very well too. But he always says his skills are nowhere near yours, even if you deny it, he stands his point.

@ gracefully DEVOURS your food and asks for a second plate ♡

@ oh look, someone who also hates small take, yay. You two were so awkward at the beginning of the whole relationship. The beginning of the whole meeting each other for the first time too!

@ it was definitely him who took all the first steps. Even more awkward cause....he only knows the most things form books cause he has no real life experience-

@ made the mistake of asking March-the things he went through just for you-you better be greatful (jkjk)

[nothomegal]

“Cuddle date”

(Ghostface x GN Reader)

Summary: we all get our blues time to time, and a good cuddle sounds like a fantastic option to mend such awful mood! The man currently clinging to your body definitely thinks so, and you? Not so much...

Warnings: hints to an unhealthy behavoir, obsessive ghosty, non-con touches towards (Y/N).

Word count: 1.5k

Additional info: I'll use Danny Johnson as Ghostface, but not in a DBD context (no trials, entity, etc.)

Fic based on this lil' drawing I made!

—“{Such a shitty week, I swear…”}—

His deep raspy voice grumbled from behind the mask, his grip around (Y/N) tightened as he shifts in place a bit, taking a more comfortable position and nuzzling his masked face against their chest.

—“{It’s all better now, though. Way better.}”— he finished this sentence with a chuckle, which came out way more sinister than it was probably intended.

There were tears forming in (Y/N)‘s eyes again. Their whole body is tense and slightly shivering, their skin feels so hot and cold at the same time under the intruder's warm body and their own cold sweat. Their heartbeat is so loud that it overshadows any additional noises, yet his raspy voice still managed to cut through the loud drums of their panicked heart. They wanted to scream, shout in terror in hopes their roommate hears them, but the duct tape placed on their lips did its job in keeping their mouth shut, only allowing low muffles to come out.

They couldn't even push this stranger off their body, their wrists tightly tied to the bed frame which made their arms stay outstretched over their head, leaving their body even more exposed and unprotected.

The masked man silently sighs as he shifts in place again, tilting his head up a bit.

—"{You're a great listener, dear. Thank you for your time.}"— he says as he suddenly begins to move one of his hands up and down, caressing your body. —"{Usually I restrain myself from waking you up, but today... Ugh, today I just had to rant, you understand that feeling, do you?}"—

The uncalled touches caused (Y/N) to shiver as another muffled noise escaped from them. They wiggle in place, hoping to somehow shake his gloved hand off them but this little struggle seemed to only amuse the intruder judging by another sinister chuckle and the way his grip tightened around them.

—"{Oh love, so shy and unwilling as ever. At any other moment I'd be so fucking pissed with your stubborness... And I actually used to, you used to piss me off so much with your sole existence...}"—

His tone turns significantly more hostile as he speaks, his grip on their hip tightening to at almost painful point, causing (Y/N) to wiggle harder and let out a louder cry when the squeezing became too much. That little noise caused the man to snap out of whatever abnormal episode he was going through, making him quickly realize what he've been doing just seconds ago.

—"{Oh... Sorry, dear.}"— he mutters, his tone apologetic as he gently rubs that spot, as if attempting to soothe the pain. —"{Can get carried away when I think about certain topics...}"—

His gloved hand eventually slides under (Y/N)'s shirt, now running his palm through their bare skin. Judging by the high pitch noises they made they didn't expect or liked that at all. But again, it didn't stop the man from continuing his gentle caresses, action that seemed oddly soothing to him.

—"{It's just, I still don't understand how you managed to do that... You were supposed to be another face in the morning news paper, a simple victim... But here we are.}"—

He pauses, and so does his hand.

—"{You just have no idea how easy it is to end you, on a practical level. But morally...}"—

His fingers dig into their skin as he moves up, his face now being pressed against the crook of (Y/N)'s neck. The sensation of the cold plastic of his mask sending shivers through their entire body, their heart rate quickening, detail that didn't go unnoticed.

—"{So scared...}"— he mutters thoughtfully. —"{It's okay, today you're actually taking my visit way better than other times.}"—

This sentence made (Y/N) freeze in horror, even the shivering paused. Gears began to work inside of their head and place the puzzle pieces together.

They finally realized it.

All these small incidents of their things going missing, the food tasting weird and the unnatural tiredness they've been waking up lately, it all made sense now.

This man, this sick fuck, is the one behind these anomalies... And it seems like he's been doing this for a while.

The mentioned man of course noticed their sudden stillness and probably realizes that (Y/N) is putting the pieces together, but he felt no worry. In fact, he had the audacity to let out an amused laugh.

—"{See you begin to understand... Not bad, detective (L/N).}"—

He slowly slides his hand out of their shirt and moves his body again, climbing up until he's basically on top of (Y/N), now pressing their frozen and helpless form further into the matress with his weight.

—"{Too bad you won't remember anything in the morning.}"— he whispers as he places his hand under your chin, squeezing your face slightly. —"{You never do.}"—

He starts to lean closer as his grip around their face tightens.

—"{Or maybe, you will... Sometimes I wish you do.}"—

He mutters, stopping when his masked face is only inches away from theirs.

—"{Because then you wouldn't be so startled every time I come back... And I will come back. Maybe tomorrow, maybe after tomorrow... Or maybe you'll see me through the day. Who knows, I could be anyone of your friends.}"—

He was close, uncomfortably close. The shivering got worse the more he spoke, his voice so psycotic and cold yet sicky sweet and playful at the exact same time. (Y/N) was so lost and overwhelmed; confusion, fear, desperation, anger... So many feelings swarming their mind at ones that it was nearly impossible for them to keep up and think straight, all they could do is be still and stare into the dark eye sockets of the ghost mask of the intruder...

Ghostface.

(Y/N) heard about him. His crimes are always the very first thing discussed in the radio durning morning, so they're more than aware of how fucked they are.

The more they stare into those fake eyes, the more distorted his face appears to get. They can swear that they've saw an outline of an actual human eye behind the dark fabric of the mask, an eye that appeared even darker than anything they've ever seen.

So dark, so cold... That it almost felt unhuman.

—"{Fuck...}"— he groans under his breath. —"{You just have no idea how fucking cute you are... I wish I could've just...}"—

He leans even closer, his face hovering dangerously close to (Y/N)'s, plastic almost touching their lips.

But the sudden sound of footsteps aproaching made the masked man freeze, his hand giving a rough squeeze as a warning for (Y/N) to remain quiet. But his efforts to keep their little hang out as a secret went down the drain when the door suddenly opened.

—"Yo, dud do you happen to have a spare ibuprofen (Y/N)? Cause man, this hangover is killing m-..."—

(Y/N)'s roommate freezes in the doorway, looking at the scene with wide panicked eyes, which only narrowed even more when she recognized the intruder's outfit.

—"...Holy shit!"— she exclaims as she turns around and bolts off your room. —"Hold on (Y/N)! I'm calling the cops!"—

The masked man merely sighs with annoyance as he shakes his head.

—"And we were having such a great time..."— he mutters, no longer whispering. —"Sorry sweetheart, gotta cut our meeting short."—

He seemed to be about to lean back and away from them. But before doing so, he presses the mouth of his mask against (Y/N)'s cheek, sending small shivers through their body with the sudden sensation of the cold plastic.

Ones completely up and off the bed, the intruder actually takes his time to cover (Y/N)'s form with the blanket again, totally unaffected by the fact that their roommate is aware of him and must be trying to call the authorities. Little does that person know that he already took care of her phone...

—"The adrenaline should wear off soon. Sorry that you have to rest in such uncomfortable position, again. But you understand why I can't do anything about it right now, right?"— he says the last part in a somehow playful one as he runs his gloved hand through your hair. —"See you soon (Y/N), sooner that you think."—

And after these words, the intruder leaves the scene. The weird black ties of his costume trailing behind him as he exits the door before closing it.

And just like he predicted, exhaustion began to slowly fall upon (Y/N), their eyelids felt unnaturally heavy, their body slowly going limp and the soreness in their wrists is fading away as they slowly submerge in this restless sleep. They attempt to struggle one last time, a desperate try to free themselves as they hear faint noises of struggles outside their room, knowing that their roommate won't be able to resist the attack for long.

Unfortunately, their body gives up at some point and refuses to move, their consciousness barely remaining awake.

And just as they're about to fall back into slumber, a small tear slides down their cheek as the same damn sentence resonates inside of their mind again, and again, and again...

"See you soon (Y/N), sooner that you think."

[cheesycatz]

Worm in the Apple (the Wormton AU fic) is at 120k words! Obviously the worm guy loves apples, fruit, and sugary stuff in general, though it holds no nutritional value for him. It's fitting, since most of the "worms" found in apples are actually just some form of insect, just like how Wormton himself isn't an actual worm. Being as contradicting as possible is his whole thing, I suppose.

May blithering helminth codswallop posthaste be upon thee if thoust must ruminate over thine virulent and insiduous merchant Sir Spammington G. Spammington The Deceitful:

Anyways, I've been struggling to write the depressing crap, so I often like to imagine the ending where they can all be happy together in Castle Town. I interpret Castle Town as a place where darkners are less bound to fate, since it doesn't seem to manifest from the real world, and is made of pure darkness, whatever that means. Wormton wouldn't have to hide anymore, but he would very much be, uh, neutralized if he tries to infect anything. He wouldn't get to have sixteen identical feral worm children that look like slightly smaller mirror images of him crawling all around the place, unfortunately; Castle Town could do without a highly invasive species that eats and destroys everything. I imagine that he'd keep the suit jacket so that he actually has some pockets, as well as to hide himself a little bit. Malworms naturally like to stay outside of the spotlight, so he's not very comfortable without his disguise. Not that being crammed inside his disguise was much more comfortable, but, hey, what other option did he have?

I like to imagine the addisons getting stuck with Wormton in Castle Town due to it having greater population density. I'm considering making it so that they don't even know he's there at first, like those criminal cases where some guy is living in a family's attic for months unnoticed. He'll have the opportunity to harass Swatch, interact with other characters like Lancer, and send "mild" death threats to Rouxls. I think he'd avoid Kris and the other lightners. He tries to kill Kris and absorb the SOUL from the get-go, and the two of them lack that puppet connection, since Wormton never picked up the phone. Still, he does pick up on their stilted movements that mimic his own when he's puppeteering his disguise, and does realize that the SOUL is a little more controlling than he would want, so they eventually reach a peaceful conclusion (This AU follows the pacifist normal route. This cold-blooded mf would probably just go into hibernation and do absolutely nothing if the player did a Weird Route). He's still pissed about them taking his shadow crystal, even if the starry night sky it once let him witness will never shine through its surface again. Kris is such a gremlin from what we know that I think it would he sweet if he valued the fact that, while they find his puppet-like disguise creepy, they're unfazed by his real appearance. Kris can go on his "people I don't fantasize about murdering and eating regularly" list, which might just be his "nestmates :^]" list if he'd actually admit it

Back to writing about him hating himself so much that he can't fathom someone healing him unless it was a transactional favor, hiding in a locked closet with no stimulation because he thinks he's trying to kill Blue whenever he's in an instict-driven half-asleep state (emphasis on thinks), believing the only reason that Blue is worried about him hiding so much is because they want him to leave faster, understanding so little of his actual species that he becomes stressed when he does anything that "isn't normal," Having fits of anger and mental breakdowns and feeling bad about it afterwards, using the worst coping mechanisms known to man, and devouring an entire 16 inch regular crust meat lover's pizza in one sitting

Cover art concept as a lil treat. Probably won't actually draw it until I'm ready to start releasing chapters, but it's fun to think about for now. I'll do my best to live up to expectations as someone with zero experience writing fiction and long-form content in general o7

[pixelatedraindrops]

Hello everyone!! Today I grow a year older :3 (and I hate it lmao) FEEL FREE TO REPLY BIRTHDAY WISHES IF YOU WANT :3

So, over the time I've come back here, I've become pretty confident and proud of my once hidden passion about sick characters, sickfics and sick comfort/whump... 🌡️

And you all have been so supportive and sweet despite my weirdness so I thank you for that. You helped me feel more confident in my otherwise weird fixation <3 So, for my birthday I thought I'd try and make up a little drawing challenge for anyone who wants to give it a try... There are soo many talented artists on this site (and in this fandom)

So... It's your turn to target your faves now. You will see how fun it is and hopefully understand why I love doing it so much. 😈🌡️

(plus it's my birthday and I require some sustenance LMAO JKJK)

But yeah anyone can join in. This is just for fun though! You don't have to if you don't want to! I think its okay to ask for some food on my birthday though...right?? X'D So if you wanna do sth for my birthday...then... 👉👈 💦

CHALLENGE BELOW~

DRAW YOUR FAVE ON A SICK DAY CHALLENGE🌡️😷🥵🤧

~~~~

(Mmmmkay, I am lying to myself when I say this isn't mostly aimed at the RainCode community... X'D Can't help myself. But anyone can join regardless of the fandom!!)

So here's the challenge and the rules!! (featuring my two main lil targets ofc :3)

Regardless of who it is, put your fave through some sickness hell >:3c I'd love to see it! Make em' as miserable as you want!

destroy them 😈 jkjk XD

If you're in the RainCode community you can target anyone, but as you know, my main targets are Yuma and Makoto. If they're also your faves and who you decide to use, that will make me extra happy!

Some tips for anyone new to drawing a sick day scenario art. A few things that make it look convincing are the following:

Pajamas or Loungewear

Messy Bed Hair

Fever flushed face w sweat or at least a red nose

Tired Eye bags

Shivery body

Ice Pack or a Compress on the head

Thermometer sticking from their mouth

LOTS OF BLANKETS

Tissues or medicine surrounding them

Tea or Soup (or both)

Those are just to name some from the top of my head. If you'd like some pointers on how to make a character look ill, check out my Fever Coloring Guide. This is for digital artists but traditional artists can try it too!

You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.

The scene can be anything you want to, it can be fluffy and wholesome (with a caretaker) it can be angsty, or it can be silly. Its all up to you! Do it for the sake of fluff! Caretaking scenes are the best for any kind of relationship >w<

Either way, have fun with it!! I look forward to see what people make if they decide to give it a try! It doesn't even have to be a full on picture! Doodles and sketches are fine too! Just show me something >w<

(feel free to tag me and say happy b-day and mention my challenge, I am proud to be known for this and would love for many to participate :3) I wanna see you take a go at it :3 Show me your style! :D

~

~~~

(wow look at me misspelling the word writing on text when I did it fine with my own hands lol)

Now, I know not everyone can draw...

Well never fear! I accept writing as well! ✍️✍️✍️

(hi vivia lol sorry for giving you a cold, at least you have an excuse to read and do nothing now haha x3)

Sickfics are one of the biggest things I live for! Any little drabbles or full fics with more than one chapter are welcome! Again target who you want any fandom you want, but I'll def be super happy if you make a RainCode fic. And even happier if you target my faves as well, but again, anything will do! Just make a cute story about your fave being miserable and being tended to! Trust me, it's super fun!

You can add injury or angst to the scene but I'd like illness to be the main focus of it.

Feel free to post your writing here and tag me or mention my AO3!

If you need a start to your fic, look on my blog for illness prompts! Maybe it can help give you a good start or give some inspiration! (thats why I share 'em :3)

I look forward to anything you try to write!

~

That's about all!! I hope you decide to participate! ✨

Good luck, have fun, and godspeed you future whumpers! 😈

(nah jk XD)

AGAIN THIS IS FOR FUN! NO PRRSSURE IF YOU DON'T WANT TO!

[virgoilluminati]

WORLD CLASS

Chapter 6

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A/N: Hey guys, long time no see. Happy 2024! I hope everything is going the way you wanted this year to go so far. Apologies for being M I A. Cannot promise that it won't happen again, but I'm trying honestly. Here is the next part of the world class fanfic - currently posting archived posts so hopefully my posts will be a bit more frequent. Anywayysss enjoy :)

ps: i know that one of the photos y/n is wearing an orlando kit, please just imagine this as if its the england kit (i tried looking at couldn't find a single photo.)

y/nmorrison_

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y/nmorrison_ semi final jitters. First starting lineup for england!

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judebellingham - proud boyfriend moment ❤️

ellatoone game time! ⚽️

leahwilliamson my arsenal girl 🔴⚪️

lucybronze: well done lil sis. ✨💕

As the trio—Y/N, Russo, and Toone—receive a summons to meet with Serena Weigman, the tension rises once again.

Seated side by side in Serena’s office, the trio exchanges anxious glances, awaiting Serena’s decision. Before the manager can delve into the details, a sudden commotion outside the office draws her attention.

In Serena’s absence, Russo and Toone begin to whisper to each other, casting furtive glances in your direction. The mystery surrounding their hushed conversation only fuels your confusion.

Finally, unable to contain your curiosity, you ask, “What’s going on, guys? Why the secret conversation?”

Toone hesitates, exchanging a glance with Russo before breaking into a grin. "Okay, here's the deal," she begins, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "If either of us gets the chance to replace James, we've decided we'll give it up for you."

Your eyes widen in disbelief. "What? Why would you do that?"

Russo chimes in, "Because, Y/N, we genuinely believe you deserve this opportunity more than anyone. You've been giving your all on and off the pitch. It's your time to shine."

You, humbled and slightly overwhelmed, stammer, "But... I don't understand. Why me?"

Toone smiles, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Because we're a team, and we know you'll make the most of this chance. We believe in you."

Russo nods in agreement. "You've got the heart, the spirit, and the skill. This is your moment, Y/N."

As Serena returns to her office, the trio—You, Russo, and Toone—shifts their attention back to the manager. Serena, her expression serious yet compassionate, begins laying out the scenario.

"Alright, girls, here's the situation," Serena starts, her eyes moving from one player to the next. "As you know, James is out due to the red card. It's a crucial match, and decisions have to be made."

Your stomach churns with a mix of nerves and anticipation. You exchange glances with Russo and Toone, both of whom share a silent understanding.

"We've got options, and I need your input," Serena continues. "Toone, Russo, both of you have been in excellent form. But here's the catch—we can only pick one."

Serena pauses, letting the weight of her words settle. Outside the office, the buzz of activity hints at the significance of the moment.

"Toone," Serena turns to the forward, "you've been a force up front. Your agility and goal-scoring prowess are invaluable."

Toone nods, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the decision at hand.

"Russo," Serena shifts her focus, "your ability to create opportunities and your strategic play have been crucial for us."

Russo acknowledges Serena with a determined nod.

"And then, there's you, Y/N," Serena says, turning to you with a hint of a smile. "A versatile player, a team player, someone who's demonstrated resilience both on and off the field."

You feel a mixture of pride and nervousness as Serena acknowledges your contribution.

"Before we make a decision," Serena continues, "I need your honest thoughts. Speak up. What are your strengths, and how do you think you can contribute to this crucial match?"

Toone and Russo take turns expressing their confidence in their abilities, emphasizing how they could make a difference on the pitch. You, though still battling the lingering nausea, speak about your adaptability, teamwork, and the determination to give your best, regardless of the position.

Serena listens attentively, weighing your words. Just as the discussion reaches a pivotal point, another commotion from outside interrupts the conversation. Serena excuses herself briefly, promising to return to finalize the decision.

In Serena's absence, Toone and Russo exchange glances, and you can't help but feel the intensity of the moment. The unspoken camaraderie among the three players resonates in the room.

Finally, Serena returns, her expression resolute."The decision is made," Serena declares. "Toone, Russo, thank you for your commitment. But today, Y/N, you're stepping into James' position. We believe in your ability to make a difference on the field."

A mix of surprise and gratitude washes over you. Toone and Russo, true to their whispered agreement, nod in support. The trio, now united in a shared mission, leaves Serena's office, ready to face the challenges that await them on the pitch.

jude's story.

In the early morning light, the Madrid football stadium stands quiet as your voice echoes, phone pressed against your ear. On the other side of the world, you pace the field in Australia, cleats clicking, engaged in your conversation with Jude.

"I did it jude, I'm on the lineup!"

"Ahhh! Congratulations my love, I am so proud!"

"I'm shitting myself though. What if I mess up?"

"Y/N, you won't." Jude's frown is evident through the screen.

"But what if-" Jude interupts you, knowing her common weakness of self doubt.

Jude: "You know, Y/N, I've been thinking. I really want to get a dog."

You chuckle, adjusting your kit, "A dog, Jude? Seriously? That's your way of making me feel better?"

Jude, excitement in his voice, "Well, yeah! Imagine having a loyal companion to share the victories and defeats with. Plus, I could use some unconditional love."

Your tone shifting, you sigh, "I love the idea, Jude, but you know our situation. We have a tiny apartment in London, and with our careers, we aren't home much. A dog might not fit in."

Jude, thoughtful, responds, "You've got a point. But think about it, Y/N - a dog could bring so much joy into our lives. We could make it work."

You chuckle, "I can just see us trying to fit a dog bed next to all our football gear. It's a charming image, but practicality might get in the way."

Jude: "Practicality? Since when did footballers worry about that? We'll figure it out. Maybe hire a dog walker or recruit teammates for puppy play dates."

You smile at the mental image, saying, "You're optimistic, Jude. I love it. Let's make a deal: if we ever get a dog, it has to be an arsenal fan. No exceptions."

"how about England fan, as a compromise?"

"Deal!"

Jude laughs "Now, speaking of dogs, while you're preparing for your World Cup match, I'll start researching local shelters here in Madrid. We might find the perfect furry friend."

You grin, "In Madrid? That's ambitious, but I like it. Just make sure it's a dog that can keep up with both our busy schedules."

The conversation takes an unexpected turn as Jude hesitates, "You know, Y/N, we've been talking about this dog and our hectic schedules. What if... What if you moved in with me in Madrid? We could find an apartment here, and maybe that way, we can make having a dog work."

You, on the other end of the line, feel a mix of surprise and panic. "Move to Madrid? I mean, it sounds tempting, but that's a huge step, Jude. My club is in Arsenal, my family's in London. It's not just about football; it's about my whole life."

Jude, realizing the impact of his suggestion, softens his tone, "I didn't mean to upset you, Y/N. I just want us to find a way to make it work, you know? The dog, being together more, all of it."

You, taking a deep breath, reply, your voice wavering, "I appreciate that, Jude, I really do. But moving to another country, leaving everything I know behind, it's a huge step."

And with that, the conversation ends on a somber note, leaving you to gather your thoughts and prepare for your match, while Jude grapples with the realization that his suggestion has brought unexpected tension into your relationship.

Feeling the weight of the conversation, you take a deep breath and reply, your voice strained, “Jude, this is a lot to process. I’ve got a match to get ready for, and we both need time to think. Let’s talk about this later, okay?”

As you navigate the tumult of emotions, Jude, sensing your struggle, starts to respond, “Y/N, I didn’t mean to make this–”

Before he can finish, you interrupt, “Jude, I’ve got to go. Lucy’s coming into my room, and I need to focus. We’ll talk later, okay?”

Jude, left with his thoughts and the unresolved conversation, reluctantly agrees, “Yeah, sure. Take care, Y/N.”

The line goes silent, leaving Jude to grapple with the weight of the discussion. On the other side of the world, you face the challenge of compartmentalizing your emotions and preparing for the match ahead. The distance, both physical and emotional, lingers as you each retreat to your respective worlds, carrying the burden of a conversation that has taken an unexpected turn.

As you sit there, attempting to process the unexpected turn in your conversation with Jude, Lucy walks into your room, concern etched on her face.

Lucy: “Y/N, everything okay? You seem a bit off.”

You, forcing a small smile, reply, “Yeah, just… unexpected news from Jude. We were talking about getting a dog, and then he suggested I move to Madrid. It’s a lot to take in.”

Lucy, sensing the weight in your words, sits down beside you, “Move to Madrid? That’s a huge step. What are you thinking?”

You, staring into the distance, admit, “I don’t even know, Lucy. Arsenal is my home, my family is here, and I can’t just uproot everything. It’s overwhelming.”

Lucy, offering a supportive hand, says, “Take your time, Y/N. You don’t need to make any decisions right now. And if you ever need to talk about it, I’m here.”

As you sit in contemplative silence, Lucy gently reveals, “You know, Y/N, I was actually considering mentioning you to FC Barcelona. But I held back because I knew how close you are with Leah at Arsenal. However, things have changed now.”

You, looking at Lucy with surprise, ask, “You were going to mention me to Barcelona?”

Lucy nods, “Yeah, your talent deserves recognition, and Barcelona is always looking for top-tier players. I didn’t want to complicate things, but now that Jude has brought up this move, maybe it’s worth exploring. You could commute from Madrid and play with me and keira. No pressure, though. Just a thought.”

You, processing the unexpected turn of events, say, “That’s a lot to consider, Lucy. I appreciate your honesty and support. Let me think about it.”

Before Lucy leaves, you ask her quietly, “Please, Lucy, don’t tell anyone about this. Not yet.”

Lucy, with a reassuring smile, responds, “Never. Your decisions are yours to share when you’re ready. I’ve got your back, Y/N.”

And with that promise hanging in the air, Lucy leaves the room, leaving you to contemplate the potential paths ahead, the weight of the conversation still heavy on your shoulders.

england & lionessess

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england: kick off in 10 minutes, some of the cutest scenes in australia today, including this precious little mascot Tilly.

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user105 so cute 💕

englandfans06 it's coming home 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

In the bustling waiting area, players clutch their mascots, standing alongside their Australian opponents. You, battling persistent nausea, can't pinpoint the cause. A quick, vivid flashback engulfs you - you remember feeling queasy and unsettled just after your meeting with Sarina..

You take a deep breath, trying to compose yourself. The vivid image of the office, the faint scent of paperwork, and the subtle anxiety that lingers in the air become etched in your memory. You shake off the unsettling thoughts, determined to focus on the task at hand - the World Cup semi-final.

Returning to the sidelines, your eyes catch the glimpse of your little mascot - a charming girl with braided hair named Tilly. You greet her with a warm smile. "Hello there, what's your name?"

The little girl beams back, "I'm Tilly!"

Kneeling down to Tilly's level, you create an instant connection. "Hi, Tilly! Who's your favorite football team?" you ask, genuinely curious.

Tilly hesitates for a moment, then responds, "Arsenal."

"No way! Who's your favorite player? Is it Leah, 'cause she's brilliant-"

She shakes her head.

"Meado?"

She shakes her head.

"Then who?" You giggle. Tilly hesitates for a minute before pointing at you.

Taken aback, you chuckle. "Me? Really? That's so special, Tilly. Thank you!"

You compliment Tilly on her adorable braids, expressing genuine admiration. Standing up again, you take Tilly's hand, leading her toward the pitch. The exchange transforms the waiting area into a moment of connection and inspiration.

As you step onto the pitch, the roar of the crowd intensifies. You, still feeling nausea, twirl Tilly around, creating a moment of joy. Your laughter echoes, a delightful contrast to the tense energy of the impending match. Your teammates, witnessing the scene, join in the merriment.

The referee's whistle signals the start of the match. You, still holding Tilly's hand, guide her toward the center circle for pre-game rituals. Tilly, wide-eyed, takes in the enormity of the stadium.

During the national anthems, you stand with Tilly, singing along proudly. The little girl, mimicking the anthem, adds charm to the solemn moment. You exchange a knowing glance with Tilly, a silent acknowledgment of the shared experience.

As the anthems conclude, you crouch down to Tilly's level. "You ready to watch an amazing game, Tilly?"

Tilly nods enthusiastically. "Yes! And you're gonna score, right?"

Y/N grinned. "I'll give it my best shot. And I have you cheering me on, so that's like having a secret superpower."

With a final exchange of smiles, you part ways momentarily as the match begins. Fueled by Tilly's infectious enthusiasm, you dive into the game with renewed vigor. Throughout the match, you steal glances toward the stands, where Tilly waves her miniature flag, cheering wholeheartedly. The documentary crew, capturing every emotion, immortalizes this heartwarming chapter of the World Cup journey.

Lucy Bronze and Leah Williamson gather the team for a powerful pep talk. Lucy's embrace envelops each player, setting the tone for unity and determination.

"Ladies, today is special," Lucy declares, her voice ringing with authority. "We're welcoming you onto this grand stage for your debut. We've seen your dedication, and now it's time to show the world just how brilliant you are."

Leah steps forward, her words infusing the air with a mix of authority and camaraderie. "Today, we beat the Australians not just for a place in the finals but for the pride of wearing this jersey and for the legacy we're building together."

The team absorbs the intensity of the moment, a shared resolve forming as they prepare to face the formidable Australian opponents.

"The Australians are tough, relentless," Leah warns. "This won't be easy, but we've faced challenges before, and we've conquered them. Today, we fight for each other, and we fight to win."

As they disperse to their positions on the field, Lucy and Leah's words linger, becoming a driving force for a team ready to turn challenges into triumphs. The pitch awaits, and with your debut adding an extra layer of significance, the England Women's National Team stands united, ready to leave their mark on the journey to the finals.

During half-time, you, overwhelmed by emotions stemming from the recent decision to consider moving from Arsenal to FC Barcelona, run out, seeking solace. Unbeknownst to you, Lucy, who knows the source of your distress, observes your hurried exit and decides to follow.

As you find yourself in the bathroom, tears streaming down your face, Lucy enters, concerned. "Y/N, what's happening? You seem upset."

Surprised by Lucy's presence, you try to brush it off. "It's nothing, Lucy. Just need a moment."

Lucy, aware of the underlying issue, insists, "Y/N, I know there's more to it. You don't have to face it alone."

Meanwhile, Leah, approaches the bathroom to check on you. Lucy intercepts her, blocking the entrance. "Leave her be, Leah. She needs space."

Leah, puzzled and concerned, insists, "Lucy, Y/N is my best friend. I can't just leave her alone when she's upset. What's going on?"

Lucy, torn between loyalty to you and the desire to protect your privacy, hesitates. "This is not something for everyone to know. Y/N needs time."

Leah, feeling the tension escalate, demands, "Lucy, I need to know. What's bothering Y/N? She doesn't keep secrets from me."

Lucy, frustrated and grappling with the conflicting responsibilities, finally blurts out, "She was considering a move to FC Barcelona. But nothing's confirmed—"

Leah, stunned by the revelation, looks at Lucy with disbelief. The confrontation shifts from concern for you to a heated exchange between Lucy and Leah, each grappling with their roles in your life and the challenges of balancing personal matters with the demands of the game.

Leah's eyes harden with frustration and confusion. "Wait—What?!!"

Lucy, defensive yet determined, replies, "Because she's trying to protect you, Leah. She knows how much you care. And you would also convince her not to go."

Leah, not satisfied with the explanation, shoots back, "Y/N and I share everything. What gives you the right to decide otherwise?"

Lucy, now equally frustrated, retorts, "I'm trying to do what's best for her, Leah. Sometimes that means making tough decisions."

Leah, her emotions bubbling over, exclaims, "Best for her? You don't get to decide what's best for Y/N without considering how it affects the people who actually care about her!"

Sarina, hearing the heated exchange between Lucy and Leah, steps into the bathroom, her presence commanding attention. "Enough of this," she declares.

The confrontation between Lucy and Leah intensifies, and you find yourself caught in the crossfire of conflicting emotions. Finally, you can't take it anymore. "Enough! Both of you, just stop!" The weight of your emotions spills over as you storm out of the bathroom, leaving Lucy and Leah in stunned silence.

Lucy and Leah exchange a tense glance but follow Sarina back into the main room, where the team is gathered. Sarina swiftly transitions into discussing the plans for the second half of the match, redirecting the focus to the task at hand. "As I was saying," Sarina begins, her tone authoritative, "we need to tighten our defense, capitalize on their weaknesses, and keep the pressure on. You, Y/N, are key in this; I want you to exploit the gaps in their formation."

Determined to contribute despite the emotional turmoil, you nod in agreement. The rest of the team, sensing the underlying tension, focuses on Sarina's strategic instructions, trying to maintain the morale built throughout the tournament.

The second half begins with renewed intensity. The team, despite the recent upheaval, channels their energy into the game. You, amidst the emotional turmoil, push yourself to deliver on the pitch. Lucy and Leah, recognizing the need to set aside personal differences, demonstrate a united front in their positions.

The opposing team notices a shift in the England Women's National Team's dynamics but can't exploit it. The players, committed to their roles, continue to execute the game plan, rallying together for a common goal.

As the match progresses, the team's focus becomes more pronounced. The exchange of glances and unspoken tensions are momentarily set aside for the collective pursuit of victory. The pursuit of victory resonates with every skillful play, and the once-challenged morale finds its way back, fueled by the shared determination to advance to the finals.

At the crucial moment, as the ball finds its way to you, Leah's words echo in your mind - a reminder of the strength that comes from leaning on your teammates. Your legs burn with exhaustion, but the goal beckons like an elusive dream slipping through your fingertips. With a burst of determination, you unleash a powerful, swerving kick that sends the ball soaring through the air.

Time seems to slow as the ball arcs towards the goal, every heartbeat resonating with the collective hope of the team and the echoes of the crowd. The goalkeeper, stretching in vain, can only watch as the ball, driven by your unwavering spirit, slams into the back of the net.

A thunderous roar erupts from the stands, the celebration echoing through the stadium. You, momentarily suspended in the bliss of triumph, are engulfed by your teammates, the weight of the match and the underlying tensions momentarily forgotten.

With the scoreboard now reading 2-1 in favor of England, the atmosphere in the stadium crackles with anticipation. The England Women's National Team is on the verge of securing their place in the World Cup finals.

In a strategic move, Russo enters thepitch, replacing Kelly. The team, riding the momentum of your earlier goal, senses the opportunity to solidify their lead. You, eager to contribute further, seize an opportunity near the sideline.

As the clock ticks down, you skillfully maneuver the ball, evading defenders with a series of deft moves. Russo, positioned strategically in the box, makes a decisive run, anticipating your intention. With precision, you deliver a pinpoint cross that arches gracefully into the penalty area.

The stadium holds its collective breath as Russo, timing her approach perfectly, leaps and connects with the ball. A resounding thud echoes through the stadium as Russo's header sends the ball hurtling into the net. The crowd erupts into ecstatic cheers as the scoreboard now proudly displays 3-1, marking a significant advantage for the England team.

You, having orchestrated the play, share a triumphant moment with Russo. The teammates, their connection evident in the precision of that crucial play, are engulfed by the jubilant celebrations of their colleagues. The dramatic turn of events showcases the resilience and teamwork that define the England Women's National Team, solidifying their position in the World Cup finals.

Amidst the celebratory chaos, as you and Russo revel in the glory of the goal that solidified England's lead, Lucy approaches with a compliment. "Y/N, you'd make a great addition to Barcelona," she remarks, a smile on her face.

While you reciprocate the smile, a sudden gut punch of realization strikes you. The prospect of moving to another team, even if just in conversation, reopens the emotional wounds stirred by earlier discussions. Despite the outward composure, your internal struggle intensifies.

Feeling the weight of conflicting emotions, you seek solace in the familiar embrace of Leah, who, overwhelmed with emotion, has tears streaming down her face. The joy of reaching a World Cup final, an elusive dream for Leah until now, has rendered her speechless.

You, sensing Leah's vulnerability, attempt to apologize for the recent bickering, but before you can utter a word, Leah pulls you into a tight hug. In that embrace, the unspoken apologies and the weight of your recent conflicts seem to dissipate. Leah's words ring clear, breaking through the noise of the celebration. "Bickering or not," Leah whispers, her voice choked with emotion, "none of it matters right now. We made it, Y/N. We're in a World Cup final."

The significance of the moment hangs in the air as you hold each other, your shared journey filled with struggles and triumphs culminating in this monumental achievement. The team, once fractured by personal conflicts, finds unity in the pursuit of a common goal. In that embrace, you and Leah celebrate not only the victory on the pitch but also the resilience of your friendship amid the challenges of elite football.

As your and Russo's celebration echoes through the stadium, the commentators seize the moment to emphasize the historical significance of this match for both the women's and men's teams. "Incredible scenes here as Y/N's goal propels the England Women's National Team to a 3-1 lead, securing their spot in the World Cup final. But, folks, let's not overlook the broader impact of this moment. For years, both the men's and women's teams have tirelessly pursued the elusive World Cup, and today, the women have showcased their prowess on the grandest stage."

The echoes of the celebration and the commentators' reflections merge into a symphony of triumph, resonating far beyond the stadium, marking a defining chapter in the history of women's football.

In the midst of the roaring crowd, the commentary captures the essence of your journey. As the England Women's National Team secures a 3-1 lead, the commentators emphasize the historical significance of this moment for both the men's and women's teams.

"Your goal, Y/N, propels the England Women's National Team to a 3-1 lead, securing your spot in the World Cup final. This moment isn't just about a match; it's about breaking barriers, rewriting narratives, and proving that women's football deserves recognition and celebration. Your journey is a testament to the strides made in the pursuit of global glory."

Leah's emotional reaction becomes a powerful symbol for the women's team, transcending the boundaries of just a match. "Leah's emotional reaction speaks volumes. For the women's team, this isn't just about winning a match; it's about paving the way for future generations and showcasing that women's football deserves every bit of recognition."

The unity between you and Leah is highlighted as symbolic in the grander scheme of things. "The unity between you and Leah is symbolic—a reminder that, regardless of gender, football is a sport that unites, inspires, and creates history. As you head to the World Cup final, you're not just competing; you're paving the way for future generations."

In the broader context, the significance of England's journey is acknowledged. "As we savor this moment, let's acknowledge the magnitude of what's happening here. England, with its storied football legacy, is on the verge of etching a new chapter in the annals of the beautiful game."

The shared dream between the men's and women's teams becomes a powerful narrative. "The men's and women's teams stand side by side in pursuit of a shared dream—a World Cup triumph that transcends gender boundaries. This moment isn't just important for England but for football as a whole."

leahwilliamson

liked by lucybronze, y/nmorrison & 500,000 others

leahwilliamson world cup finalists! 🌏🏆

view all 80,000 comments

lucybronze - so proud of this team ❤️

milliebright - come on girls! ✨✨

no.1englandfan - its coming home! 🎶🎵

[sug4r-sp1c3]

Hi!

Could you maybe do villanous x a reader who has rabbit ears please? Thanks!!

RULES ARE RULFES NO SPECIFIC CHARACTERS OR THINGS ITS BEING A HC UHHHH

ok lets begin since i'm sleepy ITA 1 AM WHAT THE FUCK

"but sugar-sp1c3 you said your limit was 4 character-" I KNOW OKAYI' JUST FORGOT WHEN DOING THIS

VILLANOUS WITH A S/O WITH RABBIT EARS HCS !!

Characters, Demencia/Dementia, Dr.Flug, 5.0.5(platonic?), Black hat, penumbra, Sun Blast, Miss heed(not in order lol)

Demencia / Dementia

she woudl make fun of then

but like

A LOT

"Hey bunny ears!"

i feel like she would bite them idk

i mean yes she mocks of you BUT THATS HER WAY TO SHOW LOVE TO YOU..at least i think!

she haves 2 sides

the left one where she mocks and jokes and bites of you ears

and the right side where she praises you and your eyes and- you are basically her new black hat

she would often play with them

or if you have both rabbit and human she would be like:

"SO YOU HAVE SUPER HEARING!!?! OMG THATS SO COOL"

Dr. Flug

his first honest reaction is that gif sorry i don't make rules

HE THINKS THEY ARE COOL AND PRETTY ASF

HE MELTS IF THEY EVEN MOVE LIKE

HE JUST STARES AT YOU IN AWWE UNTIL HE SNAPS BACK TO REALITY!

unless his with black hat bc in that case he avoids to look at your ears at all cost since the "jefecito" can notice and idk yeah

he would probably want to do some experiments

but only friendly ones!!

like testing if you can do other things

if you have extra sensitive ears

or somthn idk i have no ideas rn

he would like to caress them on his little free time

oh btw he would LOVE if you and 5.0.5 where like best buddies or you would be his second parent-like figure(i swear i am trying to make his non specified gender I SWEAR GUYS)

he just lvoes you and you ears so much

5.0.5

he's a fucking bear bruh 💀

ok so thsi will be platonic like buddies or a second parental figure, or smthn like that

he loves to "talk" about your ears or ask you questions.(if you don understand them he would force flug to translate lmao)

he is very careful when he is trying to touch them since y'know..big paws

but he still tries!!

i imagine if he maked cupcakes the icing would be a drawing of an airplane, of dementia, a chameleon or a black hat idk, for you YOUR RABBIT EARS AND A HEART BECAUSE I THINK THEY ARE CUTE!!!!

he would even "ask" you to use you as inspiration for any dessert, or drawing or smthn.

i bet if he haves a rabbit plushie he gives it to you and/or puts something on the ears(ribbons, little hats, etc) he would be like "bow bow!" [siblings!]

Black Hat

he probably threats to rip off your ears

and eat them

basically hurt you

DUDE HE IS LIKE THE ANTI CHRIST ON HIS UNIVERSE WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO DO TURN HIM INTO A ONCELER?

Penumbra

SHE

LOVES

YOUR

EARS

SHE OFTEN POSTS THINSG ON HER INSTAGRAM(with your consent ofc) LIKE "my sweetie's ears where a bit messy today! so me and sun blast fixed them just a lil bit.... loved the result! 🐇💜"

she would ask if you are sensitive to things like sound or something to try to not let a lot of hard things that can cause a hard sound when they fall or make sure Curie or Sunblast don't throw things

she oftenly tries to impulse you to not cover them! but if you like to have them covered, she would be okay with that too!

the same that flug

she would ask to make some little and non-offensive, experiments on your ears

if you don't want, its okay!

if you want, its okay too!

"look! i got you this! i bet it would make your ears fur brighter!..and curie's too"

Miss Heed

okay she would POST LIKE 10000 HISTORIES, POSTS, AND A LOT OF THINGS IN ALL HER SOCIAL MEDIA

LIKE SAYING "HAH MY s/O'S EARS ARE UNIQUE AND YOURS NOT"

but she would never say that out loud.

she would ask to records tiktoks or anything about them, like idk trends, popular songs or just quick vid like "watch me take care of my Sweetie S/o ears!"

if they are sensitive, during the event of when she had everybody under her control or smthn she would keep you away from them

yes she would be a bit sadistic and evil but she still cares abt you

..or she just does the same thing that she did with them..

when she's at..THAT place..she draws in a corner a lot of little ears, like if she misses you and misses your ears..

if you visit, she would beg to touch them again , to feel them..she would be crazy for it..

Sunblast

Red BEFORE the "The Dreadful Dawn".

Orange AFTER "The Dreadful Dawn" and BEFORE the events of the comic and The "Heedeous Heart"

Yellow AFTER "The Dreadful Dawn" and the events of "The Heedeous Heart" and the little comic

even if you where his S/O he would mock of you and of them..

listen he knows you are his S/O but he just..feels like its the right thing or it doesn't matters

he doesn't even minds as i can think

he is just like "oh i am just joking! geez.."

Now under Penumbra's uhm..how do i say it?..NOW WITH PENUMBRA LMAO

he realized that he may have been a bit too much harsh with you..

he persuades Penumbra to localize you or visit you to apologize

if things go well..you both could try again!

and he is better.

He even tries to make you be friends with Penumbra! like he did with her

He still makes jokes but he thinks about them for a long time like

"no..that would hurt their feelings..NO ITS BAD..well- no wait..no..oh...this one may be good.."

he fears of you getting like the other ones..he tries to protect you at all cost

if you do get under Miss heed's..thing

he would be like mad but that multiplicate it for 10 and then for 100

the only thing that keeps him away from hurting heed and all her followers its his current little size and Curie

when you aren't under heeds control he makes sure you and your ears are okay..

he asks everyday if you are 100% SURE IF YOU ARE OKAY

after the Miss heed thing he is worried more than he should be but like c'mon

leave the little guy alone :(

he lost 2 of his most special people in his life just because a pink bitch

[mark-the-snark]

TMNT FANDOM: WHY DO WE HAVE SO MANY SHIP NAMES AND WHY DON'T WE USE THEM PROPERLY.

like we should all learn from the miraculous fandom, their shipnames are UNDERSTANDABLE and PRACTICAL.

We have: leosagi, katanashipping, leoichi, leochi, sliderbunny, yuinardo LIKE DAMN.

My suggestion: every version of the ship gets its own ship name.

2012 leo x yuichi - yuinardo. Easy

Rise!Miyamoto usagi x Rise! Leo - sliderbunny. We shouldn't use leosagi guys we had this intervention already and it's not working.

Miyamoto x 2003 leo - LEOSAGI AND KATANASHIPPING. THEY ARE ONLY FOR THAT SHIP LIKE PLZ WERE ANNOYING THE OGS.

And lastly my favorite: Rise! Leo x Yuichi - leoichi or leochi. We don't need two, idk why we have two but one of them needs to go pronto.

Did I make this post only because i'm tired of tagging? Yes. Am i right and i should say it? Also yes.

Now tell me what you guys think cuz i think i'm very smart for this 😤 and i'm also very lazy so feel free to repost and steal this idea cuz i rlly don't wanna tag most of these every time i post these guys

I'M GONNA TAG THIS AS LEOSAGI BUT ONLY CUZ THIS IS AN INTERVENTION. I'M NOT A HYPOCRITE PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. I WOULD ALSO DRAW 03 LEOSAGI BUT I CAN'T DRAW MIYAMOTO FOR SHITE

Also Ooo look whats under this read more button some leoichi fanart maybe u should click this if u read this whole post as a lil prize

now spread my wisdom.

[malacandrax]

hi sry this is a lil long but i just felt like giving my own comments about ur post re: feeling left out/regarding more detailed work, and wanted to say that your work singlehandedly has inspired me SO much to the point that because of your more simplistic coloring/shading and focus on movement/body language, i was finally able to find a coloring/rendering style that i actually like aesthecially and enjoy doing! i've struggled w replicating color in a way i like digitally for over 6 years but your work, and especially so your sketchbook scans on patreon have been so useful for inspiration and for my own understanding of anatomy and what not. we're always our own worst critics with comparison and whatnot, but please know that your work and your style are a huge accomplishment and skill in their own right, and your comics inspire me to keep studying so i can one day make my own!!! i'm so thankful you share your work with us and to have come across it and be able to draw inspiration off it! your colors, expressions, and the palpable intimacy and dynamic character interactions are so amazing and specifically unique to your work, never doubt the impact it has just because of other's having a different style or approach or something <3

This is so extremely nice I don't even know what to say!!! I honestly feel so hyped that my style inspired someone else, I feel like it's not something I expected and its SO COOL. I sometimes feel like my style isn't particularly STYLISH you know, I often admire really strong punchy styles, so it's nice to hear my own kind of chiller style is inspiring! And that the things I enjoy come across as strengths, too! Also I am so happy to hear someone enjoys my sketchbooks haha, they're really precious to me but I also try not to be too fussy about my art in them which means it's not 'beautiful'*- they're for studying and/or chilling out, so it's SO nice that it's inspiring nonetheless! Wishing you the best in your art journey and also I think if you want to make comics you should just give it a go! Make teeny tiny comics! [it does not have to be good] [tangent oh my god] I feel very hypocritical because for the longest time comics were something my friends made and I didn't know how to, and I felt like my style didn't work for comics, but honestly when I eventually sat down and started a long comic the style happened out of necessity, I Had to simplify or I wouldn't be able to keep up. And you can see from the links that I just did sketchy comics before and that was fine! I think it was just as valuable as making polished pages. I actually probably ended up making comics For Real because I made a silly fandom ask blog, where I kept wanting to say more than I could do in one image, and that gave me the confidence to try something longer with OC's.

ANYWAY thank you so much!

*I find polished sketchbooks so inspiring, but its so limiting imo to try to make a beautiful sketchbook HAHAHAH

[skarloeyspa]

dunky and rust! took me forever but details below

Rusty:

*clutches fists at overalls costing $1.29 in the 50s

ANYWAY uhm Rusty came to the SR in 1957 so I took some inspiration from both 50s and 60s clothing but mostly 50s

But yeah like all the other freethinkers🤖 in this community i subscribe to Rusty being nonbiney (altho they're mostly masc presenting)

I want to say that Rusty's jumpsuit is based off women's workwear but like. women's workwear in the 50's was based off men's workwear so what difference does it make😭

Ripped their boots straight from the bottom right of the catalog here so hehe

Their nameplate is specifically very simple and non-glossy to designate them as a maintenance worker as opposed to for passenger service

I don't. um. intend for Rusty to be that much taller than overhaul 2 loey. they're probably around the same height at best and Rusty is def a bit shorter than overhaul 3 loey

also they're wearing a flat cap. i don't like drawing them but it made the most sense so,

i don't know if they had binders in the 50s? If they didn't then um. I'm sure there was some kind of equivalent shapewear-

Duncan:

this guy was such a damn pain to design for oml

i really need to find a way to save my ref pics when i make my pencil sketches so i can add them to these posts when im done djfdjbfk

i gave duncan beeeaaauuuttifull lushious long blonde locks💅because he's got a long ass funnel HAHAHAH

he's tall. but he's also lanky. he's like a very tall twink sorta. like i get that he's strong cuz he worked at a factory but bro cannot retain muscle like. he's sticks.

oh and also blue eyes because of douglas. yyyyeah

anyway you might be wondering. capy what the hell is that ugly ass band of pattern across his chest

well that was my BIG BRAIN moment.

starting around like the 19th century people would take the fabric used to make sacks for shipping dried goods like animal feed and flour, and turn that fabric into clothing

this originated in more rural communities but became more widespread during world war I and especially world war II with rationing and whatnot. basically when companies noticed people wearing their sacks they began printing patterns onto their sacks for this explicit purpose (cuz you know. marketing)

before arriving to Sodor, duncan worked in a factory. you know who else produces dried goods?? factories!!!

around the time he arrived to sodor was also when American rock and roll was really influencing British youth, particularly with the rise of teddy boys and then the rockers (which is from my understanding, greasers but British). So around the time Duncan was heading to Sodor there was already an air of rebellion among the UK's youth

I took particular inspiration from Rockabilly based on its noted influence on British popular culture, which from what I've seen, adopts some more flashy elements to their clothing in contrast to the traditional suit and dress. I was this close to making duncan wear a bowling shirt

the kerchief is also because of this hehe

so in a moment of genius/delusion, i thought. what if while working at the factory, duncan saw the trends of people using their feed sacks as clothing fabric, and stole a bag or two for himself so he could sew on a strip of the fabric onto his work shirts because he's, ya know, mr. rock n roll

yes i did all that just for a stripe of fabric on his chest i am VERY happy with this choice

btw here's the exact pattern i used (i just ripped it off the internet)

ok that's it thank you for reading through my rambling once again!! lowkey i want to post lil western next but also. i talked abt making rws/formal uniforms for the SR crew so. we'll see what happens next lol

[archivestarlyht]

banter dialogue if my oc was a playable companion in baldur’s gate 3: sol'rys edition.

selected

sun in my damned eyes. ready as always. command me. lolth's will. i obey. as i am needed.

selected (combat)

new orders? i await. at last. i have awaited this all day. may the strongest survive. some poison on my blades ....

selected (sneaking)

subtle. silent. swift. like a shadow. perfect for an ambush.

selection spam

ssussun! [light upon you!] straj! what now? silence is a virtue.

selection spam (combat)

ssussun! [light upon you!] if the objective is to piss me off, it is working. silence! why do you distract me, and not them?

selection spam (sneaking)

let me work! when i find you ... do you wish to discover what happened to last person who distracted me? what part of 'stealth' do you not understand?

moving

onward. in lolth's name. always alert. sun out of my eyes. eyes up, always. a good place to ambush. what would they all do without me?

moving (in combat)

you're fucked. olot dos! [darkness take you] victory now, a tavern later. may your goddess be more merciful than mine. in lolth's name. take the high ground, always. do i ever not strike first?

moving (sneaking)

silent as death. *chuckles softly* venorik. [silent] finally, what i do best.

hiding

lil alurl velve zhah lil velkyn uss. [the best knife is the unseen one] darkness is my friend. one with shadows. the perfect place to strike.

hiding (in combat)

lil alurl velve zhah lil velkyn uss. [the best knife is the unseen one] *laughs softly* and the hunter is hunted. silent as a shadow, thrice as deadly. *laughs softly* poor bastards. yes ... closer. into my web. *chuckles softly* i see you, you cannot see me.

low health

i am not strong enough. lolth shall deal with me as i deserve. surely i have survived worse? better than becoming illithid .... perhaps ... i am as weak as they say.

attacked by party member

cease this or you bleed next!

can’t fit in a small hole

you are mocking me, aren't you?

can’t fit in a tiny hole

sod off. i am not in the habit of putting my hands where i cannot see. mostly. *chuckles* as much as i .... no, never mind.

can’t use an item

later. wasting my time.

can’t use an item in combat

can you not see my hands are occupied? not now! can you not see this is useless to me? do not distract me!

finding a locked item.

locked tight. try something else. some things even i cannot open.

picking a lock

nice and easy. not to boast, but i am very good with my hands.

looking at a globe

*scoffs*

looking at an astrolabe

more wretched suns. unthinkable to me, not even half a century ago ....

looking into a mirror

fuck. seen better days. sun not doing me any favors. not too bad ... from a certain angle.

looking into a telescope

a surface above the surface?

succeeded perception roll (trap)

a trap, as expected. now what are you protecting, i wonder? step quietl ---- actually, why don't you wait here, and i'll take care of it?

succeeded investigation roll

eyes as sharp as ever. something useful, i hope.

succeeded investigation roll (trap)

clever, but not clever enough. a trap. do you want me to take care of it? nothing can hide from me.

identified a mimic

*laughs softly* the perfect predator, are they not? unfortunately, i am better.

surprised by a mimic

i could learn much from its methods! straj --- that stings.

after a short rest.

no more time to waste. a good soldier knows his limits. enough. we are wasting, uh, daylight.

On character death

player:

one dies, the rest are sure to follow!

player (romanced):

back on your feet. i will protect you.

player (dark urge):

you are better than this!

lae'zel:

lae'zel? impossible!

shadowheart:

i still need you to heal me, cleric!

karlach:

not karlach! you'll not die, not while i draw breath!

jaheira:

a fine reminder, even the mighty fall.

gale:

*scoffs* up close, still just a man.

minsc:

hells, minsc ---- can't he train the damned hamster to feed him a potion?

wyll:

even the blade of frontiers bleeds like any other.

minthara:

minthara .... ? who is worthless, now?

astarion:

just a spawn, after all.

halsin:

dust to dust, or whatever they say, right, druid?

[salstray]

Luck of the Draw - part 1

Ghost x fem!Reader - Left 4 Dead/Cod AU

This story is written in first person. I understand that some people don't like first person reader inserts, so if you are one of them, please just keep on scrolling! And if the thought of a left 4 dead/cod au sounds fun, but this one doesn't appeal to you? Feel free to write your own! Or request it from a favorite author, as long as they are open for requests and au ideas~

--

Warnings: None in this part. Its really just a meet cute with guns <3

Words: lil over 2k!

--

Part 2

--

Weirdly enough, it's not the zombies you really have to worry about during a zombie apocalypse. They become the norm after a few weeks. You learn the difference between the show, shuffling, dragging gait of a reborn corpse over the quick, smart steps of the real enemy. It’s not the growls or vaguely pained moans of mindless hunger that make your heart beat faster and your lungs burn as you hold your breath and listen as carefully as you can. It’s the voices. The words. After being alone for so long, you’d think I’d be excited to find another person; living and breathing. Real. But I wasn’t.

In fact, I felt nothing but pure fear at the sound of a human’s voice. A man’s voice. Deep. Rumbling. Accented. Close. 

I was in a house. A two story suburban home with an attic, which I was currently hiding in, tucked behind a box that held dusty baseball trophies for someone named Michael, my salvaged rifle clenched between my fingers. My knuckles were tight and my palms were sweaty. I was on one knee, the barrel aimed right at the hatch that led down into the hallway. The drawstring was broken and I’d brought the stick I used to yank it down up here with me and there was a good chance, a great chance even, that whoever the fuck was down there wouldn’t even see the thin line that separated it from the rest of the ceiling, yet I still sat there. Dead silent. Waiting.

His steps were light. It had been the creak of the stairs that gave him away and the quiet growl of his voice that had sent my heart racing. And it was the very clear statement that I heard a few seconds after the panic started to fade that brought all the adrenaline back with a vengeance.

“There’s an attic.” 

Then another voice. Not as deep. Accented differently. 

“No string or anythin’. Can’t pull it down.” 

A few moments of silence followed. I shifted in place, my legs starting to ache from my half crouch. Then there was a loud BANG and I flinched and yelped in surprise as I watched the ladder rattle in place, sending dust up into the air. 

I cursed myself silently and stood up, backing up towards the round window behind me, the barrel of my gun locked on the ladder and the butt of it secure against my shoulder.

“Somethin’s up there,” the second voice said. Quieter than before, but not quiet enough for me to miss. 

“Someone,” the first voice corrected. “Not infected. Would have been screamin’ to hell and back by now.” Another bang against the ladder. Then a third. Knocking, this time. “Oi! Alive up there?”

I didn’t respond. My head turned and my eyes flickered over my shoulder, towards the window. It led to the backyard. Last I’d checked it had been empty, but the zombies shambled wherever they wanted, without care or reason. If the fall broke something, twisted something, I’d be nothing more but meat and memory by the time I got myself together. 

But I couldn’t risk whoever was down there. I couldn’t. It wasn’t a fucking option.

“Could be hurt,” the second voice said softly. 

“Could be waitin’ to blow our heads off.”

I curled my finger around the trigger of my gun, trying to keep my breathing steady and my aim straight. 

“You try, Johnny.”

“What makes you think they'll answer me?” The second voice, Johnny, asked.

“Worth a shot.” 

There was some muttering. A deep sigh. Then a knock on the ladder again. Softer than before. 

“Anyone up there?” Johnny called softly. 

Against my better judgment, I raised my eyes from the sights and licked my lips, opening them a second later to call back to him.

“Fuck off!” 

Another moment of silence.

“Well, they’re alive,” Johnny said, sounding amused. Then he turned his voice back to me. “We don’t want any trouble-” he started, prompting me to speak again.

“Then go the fuck away, otherwise you’ll get it if you want it or not!” 

…more silence.

Then, to my absolute horror, the ladder rattled, then dropped, opening the path down to the hallway. 

I took a few steps back towards the window, my chest heaving as I put my eyes back down to the sights, every inch of my body shaking, leaving my gun unsteady, but still lethal.

“I will fucking shoot you if you come up that ladder!” The trembling showed in my voice, yet I didn’t back down. I could and would follow through on my threat if they tried anything. 

“We don’t want to hurt you, lass, we just want to help-”

“I don’t give a singular fuck what you want! I want you to go away!” 

“We’re military,” my brow furrowed and Johnny took the second of answering silence as a sign to continue. “Lookin’ for survivors to take to a secure base outside the city.” 

“Think I’m just gonna believe that?” I snapped.

“You might, if you let us come up.” 

They’d be cornering me and they knew that. There was no way they didn’t. I glanced behind me again and leaned back to peek out of the window. The yard was still clear, but that fall would still suck massive ass if I had to risk it. And, depending on if I broke anything, it would give these two plenty of time to come grab me from the ground and kill me anyway, if that was even their plan.

Still, it wasn’t like they’d let me come down. Back up and give me space to escape if I needed it… my only options were to either say yes and kill one of them on their way up and jump out the window, or kill one of them after they came up and leap out the window if the second one didn’t shoot me the second I shot his friend. 

I sighed heavily. 

“What’s it gonna be?” The first voice asked. “We haven’t got all day.” 

Rude bitch. Not like I’m just weighing the options of my fucking survival here.

“Give her a minute, Lt.” Lt? The fuck kind of nickname was that?

I sighed again.

“Fine… but if either of you makes a single fucking move that I don't like-”

“Aye, no need to worry! We’ll keep our hands up, right where you can see ‘em!” Johnny’s smile was clear as day in his voice and it was just as bright as I expected it to be when his face followed the sight of his raised hands. 

He was in a short sleeved shirt and a sort of tactical vest. A radio rested on his left shoulder and a rifle was hanging from a strap across his back. From here I could see a Union Jack against his chest, causing me to raise a brow. 

Johnny’s hair was short. Brown. Cut into a slicked back mohawk on his head. The sides of it were surprisingly neat, which meant he’d probably had them shaved down recently, which meant they, at the very least, weren’t lying about having a base somewhere. Military or not, I still wasn’t sure, but knowing part of what they said was the truth was… at least a little reassuring.

The sight of his friend was less reassuring. 

Johnny didn’t move from beside the ladder. He kept his hands in the air, in sight and away from his weapons, as the enormous figure of Lt climbed into view. 

This one was dressed in all black. Long sleeved shirt, gloves, jeans. A mask. The same vest as Johnny, with the radio and the rifle, but I spotted a handful of extra little bits and bobs in all his pouches and along his belt. Knives, ammo, fucking grenades. 

I didn’t pull my finger off the trigger and decided to keep it trained on Lt. Something he was probably used to, what with the skull face printed on his balaclava and all.

“Well?” Johnny said, his head tilting and his smile growing lopsided. “Believe us?”

“You look the part,” I muttered. The thigh holsters and everything really did make them look legit, but still- “Wouldn’t put it above anyone to pull that shit off a corpse, though. Not these days.” 

Johnny shook his head. “Can’t blame you for that. What’s your name, lass?”

“Your's first.” 

He and his friend shared a look. Then he nodded a few times and used his right hand to gesture to himself. “John MacTavish. Call me Soap.” My brow furrowed again, but I let him keep going as he motioned to the masked man. “That’s Simon Riley. My Lieutenant. He goes by Ghost.” Ah, that made Lt make sense. 

“Fitting,” I muttered, my gaze flickering over him. 

“Your turn,” Ghost said. He stared back at me, his eyes half lidded, not even looking slightly worried that I had a gun pointed directly at his face. 

I took a deep breath, momentarily considering lying or just pulling the fucking trigger on Ghost… but there was really no reason to hide that kind of stuff anymore and Soap seemed nice at least…

If I die, I die. Honestly, it would be a fucking blessing to get out of this nightmare-

So I gave it to them. Just my first name, nothing else.

“No last name?” Soap asked.

“Not one I feel like using anymore. Family’s all dead anyway.” 

They both shared a look. Then Soap started to lower his hands and I twisted, turning the barrel of my gun on him and making him freeze.

“Hey now,” he said slowly, raising them back into place. “Like I said, we don’t want trouble. Just want to help.”

“Said you have a base outside the city, too,” I stated. My gun didn’t move from its new target, however I risked a look at Ghost. “How far?”

“Few days walk,” Ghost replied. “As long as things keep quiet.” 

“Few days?”

“Been four, with the two of us,” Soap supplied. “Might take a bit longer with us three, if you come with, but you’re still welcome. Military’s been sending out pairs and packs to round up whoever is left and get them somewhere safe.” 

“Haven’t found anyone else?” I asked quietly. 

“No one as friendly as you,” Soap said, his smile coming back with a vengeance. I hummed and narrowed my eyes at him, but I pulled my finger off the trigger and, ever so slowly, lowered my gun. Both of them visibly relaxed and Ghost set one hand on his own rifle as Soap let his hands fall to his sides. “So… gonna come along? There’s plenty of beds, a little farm they’re using to keep people sustained. Hot water.” 

“Tempting,” I mumbled. “How many people do they have up there?”

“Not as many as they'd hoped for,” Ghost rumbled. 

“Means there’s plenty of food, though.” Soap was definitely a glass half full kinda guy. Couldn’t tell anything about Ghost, yet. 

“How much farther did you guys plan to go?”

Soap shrugged. “Depends entirely on how many people we managed to find. Why? Wanna come help us be heroes?” Ghost turned his half-lidded gaze on Soap and I watched his eyes narrow for a second before he looked back over to me. 

“Don’t know about being a hero, but…,” I shrugged a single shoulder. “Seems kinda wasteful to come out so far just to go back with one person… I could head back on my own. Made it this far, so I might be able-”

“No.” Ghost growled. Soap glanced over at him with a raised brow and I did the same. “Already told you we haven’t found as many people as we’d hoped for. Not gonna risk ya like that. You’ll stick with us.” 

Lieutenant indeed. 

“Alright, Bossy,” I replied. “I’ll… trust you… for now, I guess… not like I have a choice.” Ghost’s eyes narrowed at me that time and Soap’s grin widened as he chuckled. 

“Fair play,” he stated, reaching over to pat Ghost on the shoulder twice. “Let’s get goin’ then. We’re burnin’ daylight!”

--

thank you for reading :3

have a lovely day!

[joannaliangart]

Last Name (2023) 25 page saddle-stitched book. 4-colour risograph cover, digitally printed pages. Digital illustration and poetry.

Last name is an illustrated poem. I rarely make work about my relationship with family because it always feels too fraught to draw inspiration from, but in this one instance I felt I could make art from it. My feelings around this piece and its subject are still complicated; so in an effort to be broad but accurate, I’ll say that Last Name is about not knowing what you inherit from blood.

---

Whoo man. One of the pieces that weighs heavier in my heart than most cause the subject is more of a currently ongoing thing. I always really liked this poem though its one of my favourites despite its subject matter, and I was glad to turn it into a visual art project. twas my final project for a 3rd year illustration class

Might upload all the digital illustrations of the pages someday but I want to make some new editions of the zine first! Tis another piece I'd like to sell n get out there in the world; I have like 18 copies or smth right now but to be so honest most of them are pretty fucked up lmao I did not do a great job binding these orz

Really love how the cover turned out! I was very specific with my paper choice; there's this beautiful paper (I think its name was Stardust White) with lil coloured specks in it that I bought from my school's riso studio specifically for this project and I adoreee how it turned out. My first time doing a 4 colour riso print too! Still feels very ambitious to me haha

A bit of linguistic context (yep I was playin around with the tension/differences between Chinese and English language; how v cool of me):

Chinese names have the surname come first; so while my English name is Joanna Liang, my Chinese name is Liang Shu Ran. So when I say 'last name' in English it refers to my surname, But theres a disconnect/inconsistency because when literally translated, as the surname does not come last in Chinese.

This disconnect in what "last name" means serves as the conceptual centrepoint in this zine, representing the disconnect in culture, language, and family. In fact, in the title page, I translate the zine's title to Chinese (the 5 characters on the right of the phone):

Which, to give an accurate connotative translation back to English, would mean something like "final name" or "the very last name". (fitting again, considering I don't want children but that's a whoooooolleee other fuckin can of worms lmao)

In that title page, to the left of the phone is my Chinese name. But I've formatted it the English way, with the surname last: "Shu Ran Liang". And at the bottom, my English name formatted the Chinese way: Liang Joanna, with the title "translated" underneath as "first name" (so it still refers to my surname in this reversed formatting).

It's all kinda convoluted and complicated, which was intentional because that confusing and difficult to navigate path to understanding is precisely my experience with this particular aspect of my life.

+bonus here's this satisfying clean cut stack of pages ooooo *chefs kiss* Big stack cutter my beloved I'm gonna miss it when I leave uni it just so fun to use

[cheemken]

Im curious about your au👀

Just what happened that Vertin got possessed? Would the others know it's Arcana and not Vertin?

Hehehe finally I get to talk abt this

Anyways for context, it's this lil drawing I made hahah

But yeah, what I had in mind for this au is like,, a mission that went awry. I had this au prior to the reveal of chapter 7, but w chapter 7 in the works, well, ofc this now turned to some sort of canon divergent au

The main premise is that yeah a mission that went awry and Vertin and her team retreated back to the Suitcase somewhere safe. The thing is, Vertin became desperate, she knew they were outnumbered, it was a losing battle, especially how injured some of her friends are. So she decided on smth

Once she was sure everyone was inside the suitcase, she called in Sonetto, y'know, asked her to have a walk a her outside the suitcase. And stuff happened, Sonetto seeing Vertin seal the suitcase shut, and she's there wondering why, and suddenly Vertin gives her a teleport ritual, as she hands her the suitcase too. Vertin telling her that hey, the seal will be broken once Sonetto finds a safe place to stay, she doesn't care where, the Foundation, Green Lake, Laplace, as long as it's safe, as long as it's far away as to where they currently are

Sonetto ofc refused, she's not leaving the Timekeeper behind, but Vertin was desperate, she doesn't want anyone to get hurt anymore, and used her authority as Timekeeper and Sonetto's superior to order her to leave, to find a safe place, and aughgh ur honour it's so messy, that Vertin really has to shove Sonetto out the way bc she can hear the footsteps of the Manus followers. And so, Sonetto ran, and ran, as far away as she could, before using the ritual, teleporting back to the Foundation

And this is where things get fun ouo

But like, I don't think I can really type it out in its entirety bc hey I might get reported, but in a nutshell it involves Schneider's guns, Arcana's manipulation and illusions (like that scene in c2), Vertin's old friends, Schneider's guns shoved in Vertin's mouth, cannibalism, and oranges lmfao

So mind break, in a way, Arcana breaking Vertin so much so to the point that Vertin's mind doesn't know what's real and what's not anymore. Vertin being so vulnerable, that it was the perfect time for Arcana to just,, lodge her wand through Vertin's head too, taking full control of her

I had this idea that,, Arcana really played the role of Vertin well

Bc she came back to the Foundation, and ofc, in he eyes of everyone it's just Vertin, finally she's back, finally she's home, as her team rushes to her and was so damn happy she's back. Vertin even apologized to Sonetto, for using her authority to push her away, but Sonetto always tried to understand her, she knew it was for the best

But yeah I think a few would notice

Druvis would, I think she would, bc she was from Manus, she's familiar w the aura Arcana has, she feels it from Vertin. But in her mind, well, ofc, bc Vertin was kinda held hostage by Manus, by Arcana, perhaps Vertin was still getting used to not being there anymore, that the stench of death that usually follows Manus Vindictae would be temporary on Vertin

I think Regulus would notice too, solely for the fact Vertin now doesn't indulge her on listening to their favourite record. Vertin never refused that, not ever, that was the first alarm that went off her head. The second is when Vertin started using that baton of a wand she has more and more, and she uses it in a way that hey, it's not like a conductor leading an orchestra, no, it's more like a seasoned arcanist w a deep knowledge of magic

And Sonetto, ofc, ever perceptive, always w the Timekeeper. Back then, whenever Vertin looks at her, it makes her feel warm inside, knowing she still has her by her side. Now, whenever Vertin looks at her, well,, she feels uneasy, like she's a prey being stalked by a predator, that one wrong move and she'll get killed. But,, that can't be, the Timekeeper is the kindest person she knows, so,, what's wrong?

But also can you imagine, in Vertin's mindscape, Arcana just forces her to watch as she gains the trust of Vertin's friends. Oh, how exciting it'd be to watch them all fall one by one once they find out the truth. Or rather, once they fall by the hands of their precious Timekeeper, of their dearest friend Vertin.