#probably I'll make more art... but no promises...

[spoutink]

I couldn't help drawing something else. He's just so silly.

[anewp0tat0]

Feb 13 2022 Feb 16 2025

hello again, feels weird having this be my first post of the year since it's not original but I suppose it's nice that I can finally upkeep tradition. back in 2022, I redrew an awful piece where I tried to render sebastian realistically, and so I decided it would be how I track my traditional skills. so now, 3 years later this time, I can add onto the challenge. this time around, I still feel like I didn't capture how I really think ge would look as a person, and he's maybe even more stylized this time? but that's chill, it's always fun, and maybe I'll finally get it in 3 years :D

I didn't wanna but here's the last post lol

[marclef]

so uhhhhh. that Noise update huh?

great job there buddy, you've given the dang frog anxiety!

[dreamerdoodles]

it's him. the trash man. so grumpy but he loves u <3

[rexcanttietheirshoesright]

I did some drawings of Anya from Mouthwashing ^^

Btw small tangent but I was almost only listening to sad songs from different musicals while doing this and it worked SO WELL (my favorite being I Dreamed a Dream from Les Mis) so now i'm wondering if Mouthwashing would be a good musical?? That sounds really really bad until you remember that tragedy and horror musicals are not that uncommon, and there is no better way to express strong emotions than through art in all its forms

Ok full drawing under cut for spolier purposes!!

I will admit I didn't play the game or watch a playthrough. I know of it because a friend of mine went on a 20-minute ramble about the plot in no order whatsoever all spoilers included, and then I came straight to Tumblr for fan content. Truly the best way to do things.

And here are the background sketches in case they were unclear:

I got the quote from the wiki..

Enjoy yall ^^

[laurellala-comics]

making mutuals on this website is TOO HARD! I tried being Aloof and Mysterious- did not work. Tried being Effusive and Over The Top- did not work. I guess all that's left is to be my genuine self with a kind open heart!! And maybe also post men kissing. The internet seems to like that

[soggy-fishsticks]

guys ive been drawing so much lately I've been starting to actually hate it 🙁

[warrior-of-storms]

I definitely did not forget about Pride Month, I promise I didn't. Anyway here's Jason Todd

I messed with this pose so many times I don't know what to do at this point lol

Anyway, Pride Month 2024 headcanons part one: Jason Todd/Red Hood

I will always been an ace Jason person. He's just. He is ace in my head. I go back and forth on his romantic orientation a lot though. Today was an aroace day, tomorrow maybe we'll be back to grayromantic & bi, someday we'll try out demi, idk. I flip flop on Jason's romantic orientation a lot but rest assured he's always on the aromantic spectrum to me <3

Anyway, I gave him a bit more teal eyes in this than I did in the Widow comic. My personal headcanon is that the Lazarus green fades a little bit but never fully goes away, so he never gets his original eye color back. Instead of like a lighter blue his default at this point is this darker, greener teal. I do like him having the bright green eyes so I will pull that out occasionally but this is my Jason design (minus the scars because I absolutely forgot that those were a thing 😔 whoops)

[morningmask27]

Hey so, do you ever feel.. Iffy? Bad? Disappointed? That the Fandom at large only became interested in whistlepaw thanks to faer ship with Frostpaw? I admittedly was feeling a bit like that when the ship first started popping up, although I understand that Whis is quite a background character aside from that (and up until then, more or less). So like I get why fae would gain more traction only now but Idk. I can't help but feel a little sad about it since you've made me develop an attachment to this cat. Just curious about your thoughts on the matter!

I get chronically attached to background nobodies, so I'm used to people not really caring about my faves and I honestly like it more that way because popular characters are A Mess of discourse and drama,

but yeah it is a bit sad that Whis is only really seen as a love interest for Frostpaw in the major fandom, but in a way that's also what fae is in the books. Whistlepaw does nothing outside of supporting Frostpaw (and that annoys me So Much for daily whis purposes, I want more material!!!) and I can't blame the fans for not latching onto background WindClan cat #78 and making up a whole world around them

in the end the fandom portrayal is kinda bland, but inoffensive at least. I made Whistlepaw my little silly and have never really cared about the fandom at large; Fae's basically my oc at this point and if a few people enjoy what I do then I'm content

[theshelteredbrat]

hey notes thingy

I need motivation or I fear i might not make it to summer

No limits except the comment section must be full sentences, no random keyboard smash, numbers, or emoji.

15- Ill ask my crush out to the dance (its in a week)

30-Ill start drinking water more

50-Ill try to eat healthier

70-Ill come out to a few people as Nonbinary

100-Ill start using Charlie in school

125-Ill try to go to bed earlier

150-Ill attempt to talk to a close friend about my mental health

200-(this will probably be as far as it gets.) I'll work on my art

250-Ill write a whole page on one of my wip stories

300-Ill plant little wildflowers and watch them grow! Hopefully they'll bring me some joy

350-Ill go beyond basic exercise and actually do what's good for my body.

400-Ill have a contest with myself to see how long I can go without trying to be closer to death. (Walking as close to the cars as possible, stabbing myself with safety pins, etc)

500-Ill try to find a trusted adult to ask about my mental health

600-Ultimate sign to sit down and study French

650-Ill learn a new song on my violin

700-Ill try to secretly buy a chest binder

800-Ill try to secretly buy a cheap phone

850-Ill start saving up money to move out as soon as I graduate

900-Ill throw away some self harm tools

950-Ill talk with a trusted adult about my suicidal thoughts

1000-Ill talk to my parents about my mental health and hopefully getting some help

No pressure, it js didn't work last time and I don't have a will to live so haha. Knock yourselves out

THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME. I MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO DO THESE ALL RIGHT AWAY BUT ILL TRY, I PROMISE. TYSM.

[randotti]

last Mychael post for a lil bit, but here is what i plan on doing: i plan on making some of his alt outfits, like his disguise & his outdoors fit. i'll probably model his crossbow & kalimba aswell! also plan on modelling his cabin, maybe make an open showcase game with the models. i MIGHT try a shot at modelling vida - but no promises on that. it was fun modelling mychael, so i do wanna give vida a try at some point. second photo just showcases some rough recolors of his model. was curious to see how his concept art appearances would translate lol

also 64 followers holy lord , thank you guys ^^ more to come

[crazylittlejester]

Warriors prepared himself for Twilight to die and still isn't over it, an analysis by me

I wrote a ton of analysis posts going into further detail on how uncharacteristically down Warriors was acting in nearly every update since Twilight was first injured, so I'm not going to do super in depth on the stuff prior to the most recent arc, but to recap:

(art cred @/linkeduniverse from Sunset 13)

When Twilight was talking about how he could literally feel himself dying, Wars was like the only one who wasn't horrified, he looked accepting in a way. He's a soldier, he fought in a war, he's very used to death. He tried to keep everything together and help the others as best as he could, and I'm just making an assumption that there was a lot he did behind the scenes to help care for the others when Time was with Twilight and Hyrule in Sunset 14. We see Warriors smile and joke around in Dawn 2 when he sees Twilight is okay, but it seems like followig this initial relief he's a bit more down than usual, he also seems a little tired

(Dawn 3)

The Dawn arc really brought out a much different side of him than we'd seen before, he had lower energy and while previously he'd been screwing around and cracking jokes, we saw him tell Legend and Hyrule in Dawn 7 to stop poking fun of Sky and stop interrupting, which was something he himself had literally done in Regroup

and while Warriors does go back to acting more like himself towards the end of the Dawn arc into where we are now, he sticks VERY close to Twilight in like every update since

I mean he was even the one to bring him his horse in Dawn 9

And in today's update, Central Room 2, him telling Time his whole plan really just seems like HE'S the one who desperately needs to keep an eye on Twilight:

Wars, sweetheart... "If you're that concerned, I could keep an eye on him" king it's okay to be worried about your friend, promise 😭

I just think he really really prepared himself for Twilight to die so that he'd be able to keep himself together and help the others grieve and now that Twilight's NOT dead he's a Bit worried about him, because it's probably hitting him now how terrifying the whole situation was. Like yeah he knew it was bad, that's why he's so stressed out about Wild and is being a bit overprotective of him, but I think the EMOTIONS and the stress are starting to hit him, but he can't suddenly let it slam into him so he's trying to play it off like "it's okay Time i'll watch the rancher" as if he ALSO can't leave Twi alone for two seconds. He's just as bad as Time is lmao

anyways this is all just my opinion i just wanted to share my thoughts, hes my special guy 🫶

[gothicpaperback]

THE ART OF THE DEAL | PART THREE | harry castillo x you

<<< PART TWO: VALUATION ERRORS | PART FOUR: COMING SOON >>>

wc: 5,4k | rating: 18+ for eventual smut | Harry Castillo x You | FALSE RELATIONSHIP

summary: you don’t believe in love. neither does he. that’s the only thing you agree on. after swearing off romance, you’ve built a quiet life in art preservation and avoiding anything resembling vulnerability. but when Harry Castillo, arrogant, infuriating, and stupidly rich, proposes you pretend to be his fiancée for the sake of getting his overbearing mother off his back, you’re thrown. but the money is good and with your detached views on romance and love, you make the perfect polished, commitment-free partner. It’s just a deal; cold, clean and temporary. but pretending to be in love with a man you can’t stand has a way of making you feel things you promised yourself you’d never feel again. especially when he starts looking at you like you're more than just a line item in a contract. And worst of all? You start looking back

the MC female character is YOU. she is not named and barely described physically aside from being able bodied and having hair long enough to grab.

tags/warnings: false relationship, mentions of materialists film spoilers, smut, enemies to lovers. i will add more tags as they become relevant.

taglist: @chasingthepoguelife | @tnsmara | @sarahhxx03 | @taehyungxjungkookistaekook | @bluenightmarepost | @kakiki3 | @pascal-mynightlyobsession | @immyowndefender | @dedicatedfangirl2001 | @dotyoureyez | @decadent-hag1 | @madmelz | @sarahhxx03 | @orcasoul | @papapappapapapa | @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 | @greenwitchfromthewoods |

THE ART OF THE DEAL | PART THREE| LIABILITIES

Harry insists on paying for your cab ride home when you refuse to take his town car. But with the wad of cash from the envelope he gave you, you feel too selfish to agree. 

When you get to your apartment you rush to the kitchen table, emptying the envelope of the bills, counting feverishly before sitting back in shock because he actually paid you double like he said he would. 

The credit card sits next to the envelope, your name in gold. You still can't believe it, this feels like something out of a dream. 

If something feels too good to be true, it probably is. Your mother's voice rings in your head. 

You're actually doing this. You're pretending to be the girlfriend of a guy you really don't think you really enjoy the company of. 

Yeah, dinner was good, but he was nosy asking you about what you needed the money for. You hate that he rented out the restaurant. And despite the money, you hated receiving it in an envelope like a hooker. 

Your phone rings and you see it's your mother calling. You cringe before lifting the phone to your ear. 

"Hey mom."

"Hi sugar, I'm calling to make sure you've booked work off for Christmas."

Your mother is all business, in fact you can picture her hunched over her calendar like a vulture waiting for confirmation. 

"Mom, that's months away."

"Well your little brothers are excited to see you."

"Step brothers," you mutter.

"I heard that."

"Sorry."

Miles and Noah are your step brothers aged five and eight. Your mother's midlife crisis. Her much younger boyfriends Trey’s kids. 

You thought it was a phase when she tried online dating after divorcing your father. You didn't think she and the himbo from long Island would hit it off, let alone fall in love.  What's really fucked up is that her boyfriend Trey really tries to butter you up, insisting that you're all some big happy family and not some bizarre modern family rip off. 

"I'll book it off, mom," you say quietly, "I promise."

"Okay, kisses to you. I'll email details. Night night."

You end the call, eyes on the table. You stare at the money for what feels like forever, still not quite believing what's happening. 

If something feels too good to be true, it probably is. 

This continues into the next morning when you wake to the sound of your buzzer. You groan, grabbing a robe. Shuffling to the main room from bed you slam a hand on the button, your voice thick with sleep. 

"Yeah?"

A man's voice comes through, staticy and with a thick Bronx accent. 

"Delivery for apartment 7G?"

"I'm not expecting a delivery."

There's a pause, a shuffle and then the man's voice again. 

"Says here it's from an H. Castillo?"

It better not be more flowers.  The ghost orchids are creepy, sitting on your coffee table making the place feel like a funeral home. 

"Come on up."

You answer the door to a burly balding man, smiling politely as you sign for your package. The boxes he hands you are glossy black, tied with a deep green bow. The name is stitched into the ribbon, foreign and nothing you've heard before. 

You move back into the kitchen, placing the box on the table and making yourself some coffee. As it brews you Google the name and the search leads you to the website of a haute courier designer. Dresses and gowns stare back at you on sleek models, sumptuous fabric and ornate designs. 

Coffee forgotten, you tug the ribbon, opening the box. Inside lays a card over tissue paper with the stores name on it and a handwritten note. 

Please wear tonight. - H

Damn, he must be really nervous about you meeting his parents. You don't really blame him, he's really throwing you, sink or swim. 

You know you have to keep it up though. Whatever curve balls come your way, you won't be distracted from your goal. Because that money is going to help your dad in a huge way, which in turn helps you. 

You open the tissue paper, amazed at the scent of jasmine and orange that emits in the process. 

You're not exactly surprised to see a dress inside, but you are surprised at how beautiful it is.

You slide out of your pajamas and pull the dress on.

It's a sleek off the shoulder black cocktail dress that emphasizes your best physical features. It fits you like a glove. 

"How the...." You mutter to yourself, looking from all angles into the bathroom mirror. "How the hell did he know?"

You open the second now, equally shocked when you see new heels. You’re not a fashion hound, you dress modestly. But you know that red soles mean Christian Loubiton. They too are a perfect fit. 

Inside the shoe box is another small velvet box. You reach inside, surprised. You snap it open, eyes wide. 

"Wow."

A pair of ruby earrings twinkle back at you nestled in the black velvet. He's already paying you and now he's buying your outfits too? Your heart is starting to beat unsteadily. Is it too late to back out? This feels overwhelming, too much all at once. 

You compose a text to Harry quickly, heart beating rapidly. You attach a photo of the earrings, dress and shoes. 

These are on loan I assume? Nope. All yours to enjoy. The car will be to pick you up at six. - H

Harry can't remember the last time he was really nervous. That sweaty palm, headache kind of anxious. But that's how it is as he sits in the back of the town car, hand tapping against his kneecap. 

What if you've changed your mind? What if this is all too overwhelming? What was he thinking having this as your first public event? 

"Fuck."

He hates this cloying feeling, like he's breathing through dirt. 

He decides to distract himself, pulling up his email and answering a few work related questions. He usually tries to keep his personal time to himself, but he needs to make his brain stop going into hyper drive. 

He notices an alert from earlier in the day, a charge to the credit card he gave you. Curious he taps the statement, reading and then smirking. 

You bought a popcorn maker. 

All the things in the world you could have bought with that credit card he gave you and you bought a $32 popcorn maker?

"Strange woman,' he murmurs to himself, amused. He's still looking at it when a text from you comes through. 

Having trouble walking in these. Promise I'm coming just have to walk slow. 

Harry watches as you exit onto the sidewalk, a little wobbly in your heels. 

But Harry isn't looking at the heels; he's looking at how your breasts fill out the dress, the curves that he hasn't yet seen on display until this moment, the softness of your skin and the hair that fans out over your shoulders. 

He didn't send a hair and makeup team to see you for fear that you would panic or be overwhelmed. He's relieved to see you have a good eye, your. You twist your head, looking back to see if you locked the lobby door and Harry sees the ruby earrings you wear glint in the setting sun. 

You wore what he asked. You're really trying. This can work. 

He exits the car, smiling at you as you approach. He extends his arm, looking at your shoes. 

"Are they uncomfortable?"

"No, they're amazing," you gush as you grab onto his bicep, a little desperate. "It's just I haven't worn heels in so long." 

Harry chuckles as he leads you to the car, opening the door for you. You grip his hand, easing yourself. When you're settled he surprises you by bending down and lifting your hand to his mouth. He kisses your knuckles lightly and you hold in a grimace. 

"We don't really need to do that, do we? It's just us."

Harry goes pink at the back of his neck before nodding; dropping your hand like it's on fire. That familiar feeling is back, the same one he felt when he first met you: rejection. 

He closes the door before going to the other side. He takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly. This is why be picked you, no chance of real romantic entanglement But do you have to make it so hard? 

He slides in next to you and the car takes off for his parents. He glances at you from the corner of his eyes. 

"We'll be there in about thirty minutes." 

With that he goes back to his phone, answering work emails with a scowl on his face. 

You weren't lying, you haven't worn heels in years. Between Jarrod and working in the gallery you've always just worn sensible, comfortable shoes. You can't deny that you feel sexy in these ones though. 

You glance at Harry's profile, taking in his strong nose, full lips and dark, dark eyes. He’s objectively attractive.

"I'm surprised you're single."

He isn't expecting that. "What?"

"I mean, you're rich, handsome, intelligent," you say without affection for any of the descriptors, "and I know what you say about love, but surely there was someone."

Harry who always has an extremely warm countenance suddenly turns stoic, the warmth from his eyes seeping out the longer he looks at you. The warmth from his eyes seeping out the longer he looks at you 

"No. No one." 

The tension grows so taut you feel like it could snap any moment. You try to change his subject, fingers twisting in your lap anxiously. 

"So this is all because your mom wants you to marry, right?"

He seems to be happier with this change in topic, leaning back against his seat. 

"She's really just saying what her mother said to her and her mother before that." He lifts a shoulder. 

"Don't you have a married brother?"

"Yes, but I'm the eldest. She feels it reflects poorly on us that the male head of the family is single. She's worried it will affect the company shares, blah blah blah."

"Does your mom have a lot of say in your life?"

"Ever since my father died, I find I value her opinion even more," he says as he nods after a moment of thought. "Family means a lot to me." 

"I get that."'

Harry pauses. "You never really told me much about yours. I know you said your mother is on long Island with her new husband and family and your dad lives in Jersey, but that's about it." 

"That's honestly all there is," you lie. 

Harry sees that flicker of unease go across your features. You're lying but he can't figure out why. 

But it doesn't matter because the car is climbing the large driveway of a massive estate and your eyes are bulging out of your head. 

"Holy shit."

The hum of Harry's town car is a soft contrast to the gravel crunching beneath the tires. The gates swing open, wrought‑iron filigree shining in the late afternoon light, and suddenly you feel under dressed, under educated, under everything. 

Growing up with all of this luxury Harry isn't really phased when he sees it. He forgets that the sprawling acres of land the well manicure shrubs and trees, and these state itself is rather breathtaking. 

He looks at it with new eyes surmising that in fact it is rather impressive.

The estate unfolds before you in a dramatic slow reveal, a sprawling mansion capped with slate roofs, pale stone walls bleached by time. Boxwood hedges carve the lawn into geometric precision. Every blade of grass is trimmed, every pathway edged with gravel so fine it resembles sugar crystals.

You sense the expectation of protocol as soon as you swing your legs out the door, taking Harry's proffered hand, walking alongside him on unsteady legs. 

Harry doesn't even knock, simply pushes the large doors open, indicating you should step forward before him. 

Inside, the foyer is grand beyond expectation. The ceilings are vaulted like a cathedral’s, with crystal chandeliers dripping light like frozen waterfalls. Marble floors reflect your shoes back at you, polished so impeccably that the effect is almost disorienting. 

You hear voices at the of the hall and you grip the crook of Harry's arm, nodding as you pass a man wearing a suit and a name tag. CLYDE.  Harry greets him with a soft nod and smile, allowing him to take your coat.

When the two of you enter into the sitting room Harry feels you tense up against him. So many sets of eyes are turned your way, the room previously loud is now silent. 

His brother and sister in law, Mason and Eleanor, sit near one of the large windows. Eleanor with her hair in a sophisticated twist and Mason with a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. They give nervous smiles your way, knowing firsthand the scrutiny you must be under. 

A woman with dark curls and a full mouth stands up, her dark eyes playful. She's clearly Harry's mom. 

"This must be the girlfriend we've heard so much about," she says with a squeal. She runs over to you as fast as she can, throwing her arms around you tightly and hugging. "I'm so glad to meet you officially! "

You're a bit taken aback by this. You expected a frosty reception and pantsuits. Instead she dresses in a silk blouse and expensive looking skirt. The gems at her neck are undoubtedly real as are the heavy ones that rest on her earlobe. And that's not to mention the giant rock she wears on her left hand. 

You surprise Harry by welcoming the embrace with a light laugh, squeezing her back. 

"It's so nice to meet you Mrs. Castillo."

"No no no," she says with a dramatic shake of her head, "I am Mona." 

The man that resembles a much older Mason steps forth, with a strong jaw and deep set eyes.  He's dressed similarly to Harry, expensive looking trousers and a neatly pressed sweater. The gold Rolex he watches glints in the low light. 

"This is Adrian," Mona says. "The boy’s Uncle."

But his eyes hold that warmth that you've seen in Harry countless times. The kind of eyes that communicate trust. It's a family trait you surmise. 

"A pleasure," he says in a thick accent, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to your knuckles. Oh, so that's where Harry gets it from. 

Mason and Eleanor come over, extending their welcome and their handshake.  

"Nice to finally meet you," Mason says. 

"Harry says such lovely things," Eleanor adds, almost as if the two of them have rehearsed this. 

Eleanor is dressed impeccably, her dress tighter than yours, a pale peach color. Her updo is sophisticated. She too wears a large diamond on her left hand. 

You continue to grip onto Harry. Because despite your dual preparation you suddenly feel very exposed. Adrian passes you a martini with an onion instead of an olive and you hope it will take the edge off. 

"Ada is going to be thrilled she gets to meet you," Mona adds from behind Mason as you take a ginger sip. You can sense the shift in the room immediately. Harry's grin drops, taking a sharp breath in. 

"Ada is here?" 

Mona's smile goes strained, Eleanor and Mason flinching. Even Adrian looks uneasy over his wine glass. 

"Yes," Adrian says quietly. "Your grandmother arrived quite unexpectedly this afternoon." 

"Wonderful." Harry gives a stiff smile your way. "I can't wait for you to meet her." 

Harry's fingers lace with yours, tightening. He is not excited. 

"If you excuse us, I'm going to show her around before dinner starts," Harry says trying to affect a casual air. 

"Alright Harrison, darling," Mona says pressing a kiss to his cheek. "But please don't be too long."

"Of course, Mother." 

You almost yelp, that's how hard Harry tugs you after him down the hallway. As soon as the two of you round the corner you glance over at an anxious looking Harry. 

"Who the hell is Harrison?"

Harry gives you a side eye. "Me." 

"What?"

"Harrison Castillo. That's my name."

You blink. 

"I thought your name was Harry."

"That's what I go by."

"Why would you do that?" You ask, wrinkling your nose. "Harry is such a goofy name." 

"Better than everyone calling me Indiana Jones and making Air Force One jokes." He grips your hand in his, tugging you after him. "C'mon, I'll show you around." 

You allow yourself to be dragged through the hallway, your eyes trying to take in everything that you see. Art pieces that you've only read about lining their walls and you wonder if it's clever, forgery or if in fact they truly do own a priceless Mondrian. 

"That's the music room," Harry tells you quickly guiding you. "The second guest room, the gallery..." 

He just wants to get you alone somewhere, to regroup, he doesn't actually want to show off his wealth like this. He knows you aren't impressed by it. But he has to give the impression of a tour. You press a hand against the wall’s wood panelling which is smooth, cool, and untouched by fingerprints.

"And this," Harry says urging you gently forward into a dimly lit space, "is my father's old office." 

He sweeps you into a room full of mahogany and the faint remnants of cigar smoke. 

Unlike the rest of the house this space feels lived in, the walls cramped with the art pieces, mostly landscapes, all in beautiful frames. You see a replica of  Orpheus and Eurydice by Vecelli, clearly the favourite, hung proudly in the centre. 

A large leather chair sits before an impressive looking wooden desk and, you collapse into it, watching as the until now unflappable Harry begins to pace in front of you, dragging a thumb along his lower lip in thought.

"Harry what the hell is going on?" 

Harry makes a show pressing-down motion, urging quiet. 

Harry glances over his shoulder, ensuring that the door is still closed and the two of you are still alone. He turns back his voice so low only you can hear. 

"I didn't expect my grandmother Ada to be here," Harry whispers. "She was supposed to be in Europe until the spring." 

"So?" You ask, legs crossed, eyes wide. 

"My grandmother is shrewd. She always has been and if I'd known she was coming tonight we could have been better prepared." 

You stand, concerned that Harry looks so worried. What's the worst that could happen with a little old lady? 

"I remember all the stuff you told me about you and your family," you insist, coming to stand opposite him. "And you know my stuff, right?"

"Right."

"So? Let's go and get this dinner over with," you say, patting his shoulder and adding a sarcastic, "Harrison, darling." 

The dinner table stretches out like a runway, set with more forks than you know what to do with and enough silver to blind you under the chandelier light. The food is served in courses by quiet men and women, naturally. First, a wild mushroom consommé so clear and delicate you’re scared to breathe near it. 

Harry's hand is wandering, forearm resting on the back of the chair. His fingers trail over your upper arm gently in a show of familiarity. You force yourself not to cringe at the unexpected contact. 

Mona and Adrian are telling the family about their recent trip to the vineyard. You assume Martha's? 

"You should come with us next summer," Mona says shooting you a warm smile from one end of the table. 

"That sounds lovely," you grin, knowing there's no way in hell you're going to Martha's vineyard. 

A salad so precisely plated it with paper-thin radishes arrives before you as if from thin air.  By the time the salad course is almost complete you're feeling more confident. So far you've navigated the whole 'How did you two meet thing' with the background information Harry worked on. 

"Isn't Adore wonderful?" Eleanor sighs from across the table at you. She squeezes Mason's hand, giving him a loving look. "Without it I never would have met the love of my life." 

"It's so great," you agree, quickly taking a bite of salad to cut off any opportunity for her to ask a follow-up question. 

Harry sits beside you, impressed with how things are going so far. He knew you were capable, but worried how you're acting would be. Turns out you're a natural. 

"Well you must be something special to have this guy bringing you home," Mason says, cheeks flush from the wine. "He never brings women here." 

"Mason," Harry warns lightly. 

"I'm serious," Mason says with a laugh. "Even when he was talking about being engaged to Lucy, he never actually-"

"That's enough, Mason," Adrian says sharply. It’s clear that without their father, Adrian is the closest thing they have to a father figure. Mason closes his mouth with an almost comedic speed. Eleanor puts a hand on his back, rubbing small circles there. 

"Sorry, Har," Mason mumbles, eyes averted to his plate.

You glance over at Harry, noting the flush that is creeping up the back of his neck, curling over the tips of his ears. You want to laugh at this before catching yourself. 

Shit. Should you act jealous? That's what a girlfriend would do, right? 

"You were engaged to Lucy? Lucy from Adore?" 

You give your best performance, trying to look upset and angry while internally giggling. 

"No."

"Then why-"

"We can talk about it later," Harry murmurs. It sounds like the sort of thing a couple would say, right?  

"Well I had my fair share of dates before you," you say with a dramatic sniff. "So I suppose I shouldn't be upset." You lift the back of your hand to your forehead like a dramatic stage actress. "I'm not jealous at all!"

You're delightfully surprised when Mona lets out a braying laugh and the rest of the table joins in. Mason and Eleanor exchange relieved looks before smiling genuinely over at you. Even Harry is grinning. 

You didn't think what you did was that funny, but maybe they're all just thankful you're not boring. Adrian is chuckling from beside Mona and he gives you a quick wink of approval. 

"Oh she's funny, Harrison!" Mona says with tears in her eyes. 

You don't love being talked about as if you're not in the room, but you realize when Mona shakes you a look of warmth that this is just her way. 

"Harry says that you work art restoration," Adrian says with interest. "That must be a fascinating job."

"I agree, it's the most interesting job I've ever had," you say with a smirk, "but your nephew didn't feel the same. The first day I met him he told me that my job sounded tedious." 

Giggles and a gasp from Mona of "he didn't!" go around the table. You laugh to yourself at the response. 

"It was a misunderstanding!" Harry says when he feels the admonishing from all sides. He's chuckling as well. "I was trying to find the word for intensive because you have to work with such indicate details. But I was thrown off."

"Really?" you glance at him, curiously. "Why?"

"I found you . . . Intimidating."

You're surprised when you see the flush to his cheeks. The thought that you could make a man like harry intimidated shocks you. You don't see Mona and Adrian exchanging secret grins. Or the way Eleanor and Mason are watching you intently with small little smiles on their faces. 

You go to ask Harry how you of all people could intimidate him when a faint tapping sound is heard and all eyes go to the entrance to the dining room. A tall woman with a regal countenance steps into view and like clockwork everyone stands. 

She's immaculately dressed and wears thick-framed glasses in tortoiseshell. Her hair is short, pure white and stylishly cut. She exudes power and confidence despite the cane she holds in one hand. 

"Hello grandmother," Harry says coming to step forward and press a kiss to her cheek. She accepts it with a quiet "Harrison." 

"Mother," Mona says with what sounds like false enthusiasm. "I hope your nap was restorative." 

"It would have been if not for that dreadful gardener making a ruckus," Ada says in a trembling rasp. "I couldn't sleep a wink."  Her eyes cast about the table, scanning faces until she lands on you. Her mouth puckers. "And who is this?"

The way she asks sounds accusatory, like she knows you don't belong somewhere this opulent. Like she knows you and Harry are a scam. 

"This is Harrison's girlfriend,' Mona says.

Ada makes no move to say anything pleasant. She simply scans you, she looks at the jewellery you wear, the dress that clings to you, the nervous sort of smile you're forcing as you extend your hand her way.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," you say and when she makes no move to take your hand, in a panic you do a low curtsy, fingertips holding the hem of your dress. 

Harry watches this from the corner of his eyes, sliding his hand to the small of your back and urging you to stand. 

"We don't bow,' he murmurs out the side of his mouth. 

Ada stares you down for a few moments, rheumy eyes taking their time to take in the dress, the hair, the way you stand. 

Finally, she drags her eyes to the wristwatch she wears, raising it to her face and frowning. 

"I'm glad I could make it before the main course, which is being served twenty two minutes late by my count."

"You know we like to take our time eating, Mother," Mona says with a nervous titter. "Come. Join us." 

Ada gives a heavy sigh, moving slowly to one end of the table nearest to Harry. He moves behind her, pushing her chair in as she lowers herself with a creak

Once she sits down everyone else does as well. Harry is sure to push your chair in for you as well. 

Filet mignon, blood rare, sits beside a single cloud of truffle potato purée. There’s roasted asparagus laid out in a perfect line, and some kind of beet reduction making abstract art across your plate. It reminds you of a Jackson Pollock. 

The cheery mood from before is gone, everything feels strained. You can only assume it's due to the woman at the end of the table watching everyone like a hawk. 

Harry thinks his stomach is going to squeeze shut with the anxiety he's feeling right now. If he'd known Ada would be here he would have prepped you differently. She's... Blunt. The kind of woman born to work and motivate, but not to love. 

It's strange because her daughter is so warm and kind. You wonder if her personality was part rebellion. 

Harry glances your way, relieved to see you eating quietly, body poised but not stiff. And he realizes that he likes having someone here, that he feels less alone at this dinner with Ada's looming presence. 

You chew carefully. Elegantly. Harry’s grandmother is watching you. She's quiet, her eyes narrowed. She doesn't ask your name, she doesn't even attempt to talk to you. She just stares. 

In an effort not to throw up from anxiety you glance at Harry's plate, noticing the absence of asparagus. Instead he just has streamed carrots. 

"Aren't you having any asparagus?"

The table goes quiet, eyes on you again.

"She's kidding," Harry says with a forced laugh. "She knows I'm allergic." 

The table breaks into light laughter that you join in on, feeling Ada's stare on you growing more intense.  

I need to fix this. I need to say something.

Your mind grasps for proverbial straws, and you fall back on the only topic you know with confidence. 

"I meant to say earlier that your home is beautiful," you tell Mona. "I especially love the Vecellio I saw on the far wall in the office. It was one of the first paintings I fell in love with in grad school." 

Mona looks delighted by this, but she doesn't even get a chance to answer you before Ada's voice cuts through the room like a shot, startling you. 

"I never understood why Adrian would cheapen his office like that by having some cheap reproduction."

You glance Ada's way, brow raised. You don't understand her vitriol. She levels a sharp look your way. 

"We could afford the original."

Oh, now you see. Despite her age Ada still lives in the mentality that money has to be loud. 

"But then you'd be depriving the world a chance to see his work up close. To see his paint strokes, to feel him in the canvas." 

"Nonsense," Ada says with a scoff. "You can't feel anything from old paint on paper."

"I dis-" you are about to continue when you feel Harry's large hand snake down to your kneecap, squeezing tightly. His meaning is clear: stop. 

You go back to your dinner, stuffing chicken into your down turned mouth, reminding yourself that you're making money just being here. 

Dessert is a deconstructed millle-feuille with spun sugar. Unlike only an hour before with everyone chatting amiably, dessert is taken in silence with Ada watching everyone like some terrifying gargoyle at the head of the table. 

Her eyes have moved to Eleanor and Mason, scanning them both with what looks like a critical eye. Selfishly you're thankful that gaze isn't turned on you anymore. 

"I meant to ask earlier, did I miss the big news?" Ada says with a long sip of wine. 

"The big news?" Mona looks confused over at Adrian who shrugs. Ada glances up from her meal with a look of disdain. 

"Well, Eleanor is clearly pregnant," Ada says motioning to the startled young woman. 

Harry feels his entire body tighten as he realizes what's about to happen.

No. Fuck. Not tonight. 

"What?" Mona's brows scrunch, wine glass halfway to her lips. She looks at Mason and Eleanor's expressions. "Is this true?" 

"Uh, well," Mason says, looking from face to face, his chest expanding as his breathing elevates. He takes Eleanor's hand in his giving her a gentle smile before glancing back around at the family. 

"Yeah. We're having a baby."

Mona jumps up from her seat, racing to give her son and Daughter-In-Law tight hugs. Harry stands up crossing to shake Mason's hand pulling him into a hug with a "congratulations little brother."

"Your father would be so proud," Mona says with tears in her eyes. "I can't believe I'm going to be a grandmother."

You grin across the table, telling them that you're so happy for them. And you are, but it feels weird to join in on this frivolity. You barely even know any of them. But you stand, shaking their hands and smiling. 

"It's a beautiful thing when a child steps up into maturity," Ada says, her face still stoic.  She hasn’t even bothered to stand.

The comment could be innocuous, but Harry knows better. He can see the pointed way she mentions it. The meaning under the light observation.

"And just think, you'll be an uncle," you say from beside him, trying to lighten the mood. You give Eleanor and Mason a tight laugh. "Just don't let him babysit, something tells me-"

"Look Harrison," Ada says, interrupting you with a mouthful of wine, motioning to Mason. "This is what it looks like to grow up."

You tense at the venom in her words. The bright, beautiful moment of earlier is popped, like a pink bubble hitting a thorn. 

Harry has come to stand next to you. You can feel the warmth of his body at your side and instinctively you go to take his hand. He allows it, feeling your gentle squeeze around his fingers. He's quiet, his breathing slow and steady. 

"Your younger brother is married and expecting," Ada continues. "He's stepped up."

Adrian is trying to cut in and say something but Ada is on a roll. 

"Honestly, Harrison, when will you stop this casual dating business and accept your responsibility as head of this household?"

Harry feels his chest growing tighter, the anger and humiliation potent cocktail. Something in him snaps. 

"For your information it's not casual," Harry says, forcing a pleasant smile her way. You feel his arm go around your waist, tugging you to his side and you look up just in time to shoot the room a wide smile. 

"We're engaged." 

authors note: i really appreciate all of the comments that have been left. i'm really enoying writing this story as it takes me back to the old rom-com days. xx

💋💋💋💋

i got the line dividers from @saradika-graphics

[ineffably-queer-book-lover]

Inconspicuous Meeting (ca. 2013)

“In the background Crowley and Aziraphale met on the tops of buses, and in art galleries, and at concerts, compared notes, and smiled.”

Good Omens (by Terry Pratchett and that other guy) ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, I've been thinking about S3 (as one does) recently (all the bloody time) and wondering about some potential inconspicuous (or so our Ineffables probably like to think) collaboration of these two idiots to avert the End of the World™️ (again!).

Please keep in mind that I try to stay spoiler-free for S3, so if you already know something in that vein, please don't mention it here! Thank you. 😘

Anyway, these musings reminded me once again that my LEGO babies have wanted to do a little reenactment of that famous bus ride scene from S01E01 for ages! I've been designing and collecting various parts over a long time, but never got around to actually make all the necessary modifications to my London bus to set the scene up. Until today. Wahoo! 😊

I'll add a little BTS shot of their outfits and accessories. This is one of my all-time favorite Crowley looks that really would have deserved more screen time! Rawr. I'm also amused by all the little references in Aziraphale's copy of his celestial observer (rare old books, a serpent statue, a new galaxy, lol).

Psst, I'm aware that Crowley's sunglasses aren't exactly a perfect match, but they're the closest I have, so please just enjoy Aziraphale's most nice and accurate reading glasses instead! 😉

I'm just happy to have accomplished this little photo shoot this weekend, because there are a couple of very busy weeks/months coming up and I just wanted to have a bit of fun with my LEGO babies before those taxing times. Also, I'm still waiting for some custom printed parts for my 1960s Ineffable Wives. Fingers crossed they'll turn out well. 🤞

Tagging all you wonderful people again, but please let me know if you want to be added to or removed from the list! No hard feelings, promise!

@di-42 @snognes @ineffablepretzel @phoen1xr0se @thatineffablewitch @ineffablyruined @lickthecowhappy @caminholonge @gallup24 @tickety-boooo @waitingtobebroken @ineffablecrow @neversam23 @juliette-tango @crowleysgirl56 @hellsgardener01 @lookingatacupoftea @the-oak-branch-nebula @just-sauntered-vaguely-downwards @lutraslutra @fumblingbuffoon @naturallyteal @noxnightingales @bl0ndwave @faeriedays @vidavalor @inezrable @simonezitrone79 @confusedtoadsworld @darlsbardlife @imfruity5432 @ineffable-xenanigans @handyowlet @ineffablequeermoony @fellshish

[xoln04f1xo]

You didn't tell him? - LN04

Angst / Fluff

Pairings: LN04 x Verstappen!Reader

WC: 0.7k

Warnings: Swearing

Divider Credit: @anitalenia

You and Lando has mastered the art of subtlety.

Side glances across the garages. Brushed hands in the back of the team hospitality. Late-night facetimes with pillows over the speaker. The occasional escape from the chaos of the paddock for a few hours that felt like yours and yours alone.

It wasn't that you wanted to keep it a secret. It's just... complicated.

You were Max Verstappen's sister. And Lando? Well, he was Lando Norris, Max's friend and occasional rival, depending on the day.

Max wasn't exactly known for his chill.

You knew that doing this was extremely risky. But you also knew how your brother could be when it came to you - protective, territorial, and stubborn as hell.

So you made a deal with Lando early on.

"When the tie feels right," you had promised, tangled in hotel sheets after the Canadian GP, "I'll tell him."

He had nodded, trust in his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”

But weeks had passed. Then races. Your secret held strong... until it didn't.

It started at Silverstone.

You thought you were careful slipping out of Lando's driver room after the race. But apparently 'careful' didn't include watching for Charles walking by with his PR manager.

The next day... Lando got a text.

Charles: So… you and Verstappen’s sister, huh? Brave. Or stupid. Haven’t decided yet.

Lando almost dropped his phone.

You were waiting for him at the McLaren hospitality when he stormed in, cheeks flushed, phone in hand.

“You told Charles?”

"What? No!" you said, blinking. "Wait... HE KNOWS??"

"He saw you leave. I guess it doesn't take much to do the math and work it out."

"Oh fucking hell."

Lando ran a hand through his hair. "How many more people know y/n? Did we wait too long? Because if Charles knows..."

You bit your lip. "Lando, I'll tell Max. I will. I just... he's been so stressed about the championship lately, and I didn't want to distract him."

Lando gave you a look. “You think he’d rather hear it from Charles in the middle of a media pen?”

Your stomach sank. “…No.”

“Then we need to tell him. Now.”

You spent the next two hours trying to figure out the best way to break it to Max. Lando suggested doing it at dinner - "You know, over steak, like bros do."

You vetoed that instantly.

By the time you worked up the nerve, it was already late. Max had gone to bed. You chickened out.

Again.

The next morning... EVERYTHING exploded

You were getting a coffee in the Red Bull hospitality when Max walked in, tossing his phone onto the table with more force than necessary.

"Why is Charles asking me about Lando?"

You froze.

"What?"

He looked directly at you. "He said, and I quote, 'Hope you gave Lando the talk already.' Care to explain."

Your heart pounded. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

That’s when Lando walked in. Perfect timing, as always. Well Oh Fuck

“Hey, Max,” he said casually... until he saw your face.

Then Max looked between the two of you, and realization hit. Hard.

“…Are you serious?”

“Max...”

“You’re dating Lando? And you didn’t tell me?”

You winced. “I was going to...”

"When? After the wedding? Or when I walked in on you two making out in my driver room?"

Lando raised his hands. "Okay, that was one time..."

“You made out in my driver room?”

You both went dead silent.

Max rubbed his face like he was physically restraining himself from throwing something. “You know, if it had been anyone else, I’d have probably decked them. But it’s Lando. And that’s somehow worse.”

“Worse?!” Lando said, offended.

“You’re supposed to be my friend.”

“I am your friend! Which is why I’ve been respectful and didn’t just...”

“Didn’t just what, Lando?”

“Okay!” you cut in, stepping between them. “Let’s not do the testosterone Olympics right now. Yes, we should’ve told you. I should’ve told you. That’s on me.”

Max looked at you, exasperated but quiet.

“I care about him,” you said softly. “And he cares about me. This isn’t just a fling.”

There was a pause. A long one.

Finally, Max let out a breath.

“If you’re going to date my sister,” he said to Lando, “you better treat her like she’s the most important thing in your life.”

“I already do,” Lando said seriously.

Max gave him one last glare, then turned back to you.

“…Still mad at you.”

“Noted.”

He walked away with a muttered, “Don’t get caught in my driver room again.”

You turned to Lando, who was already smirking.

“Progress?”

“Big progress,” you grinned. “We only got mildly threatened.”

Click here for more!

[saintzweig]

ldr bf art calling his gf for phone sex!

– cw: use of drugs (only mentioned!!) mommy kink :3

– i may or may not have written this from my own recent experience :3

"hi" art sniffled as he placed his phone against his ear, leaning against his headboard.

"hi baby, you okay?" your voice is so soft, so full of concern that made art melt. he nods, even though you can't see him. "yeah, yeah– uh, patrick gave me a pill"

you hum, encouraging him to go on. "and i just, couldn't stop thinking about you." his voice gets low and breathier, he shifts on his bed to adjust his pants. "it– it hurts"

"you want me to help you out?"

he whimpers, "please"

"please what?"

"please mommy" and you laugh, you laugh at how pathetic and needy he sounds. all for you.

"be a good boy and listen to mommy, hm?"

"yes, yes mommy. i'll be good, i promise" he bucks his hips up slightly, desperate to feel something. "palm yourself, baby. slowly"

he nods, you can tell he's already doing it the way he's moaning through the phone. it feels good, but it still hurts– the way he's restrained in the tight material of his jeans. "that's it, good boy" if it didn't hurt that much he probably would've finished already.

"alright, take it off." he drops his phone on his pillow, scrambling to unzip his jeans and throw them to the floor. the sight of the precum staining his gray boxers almost made him gasp, he wishes you could see it. he wishes you could see how horny he is for you. he picks up his phone, placing it right back on his ear. "d-done, mommy"

"the tip, baby. run your thumb across it, want you to feel how wet you are" with your permission, he places his hand around his cock, running his thumb on the leaking tip. he shivers at the sensation, watching as the precum stick to his thumb as he raises it slightly.

"spit on your hand for me?" and he does, he listens to you so well. he didn't miss how your voice sounds breathier, images of you laying on your bed with your hand inside your panties flashing in his mind fills his stomach with heat. "y-you touching yourself, mommy?"

you hum, "yes, pretty boy" and you give him permission to touch himself however he wants with the condition that he doesn't stop cumming until you do as well. and he whines, both excited to finally touch himself and nervous because he knows it takes a while for you to cum with just your fingers. but the pill that he took made his mind hazy and his cock throb harder that he just moaned a yes.

he hears you touch yourself, whining about how much you miss his cock, how bad you want him to feel how tight you are as you thrust your fingers inside you. "fuck, baby. made me so wet, wish you could taste me"

he gasps, feeling the familiar sensation building up in the pit of his stomach. "m-mommy, g'na cum, mommy"

"mm, go ahead baby. wanna hear you cum, want you to think of filling me up– fuck, want your warmth so bad, pretty boy"

he thrust his wet cock into his hands, bucking his hips as he watched ropes of cum land all over his stomach, staining his shirt. he groans, telling you how hot you sound and how good it feels but it all comes out gibberish, his brain muddled from the pleasure. it doesn't help that the drugs he took heightened the sensation.

"that's it, you're such a good boy aren't you?" your sweet voiced pulled him back to reality, he felt as if he reached the stars– seriously. "rest first, baby. join me again when you're ready, yeah?"

he breathes out a small yes, listening to you moan for him and within a few minutes, he's hard again. his second orgasm hits harder, making him teary eyed. he couldn't help but drool as he cried out for you, almost drunk in pleasure. "f-fuck mommy, need you. i need to feel you, please mommy. a-ah, cumming. 'm cumming"

by the third time, he's face down on his mattress and rutting his hips into it. his tip is pink, glistening and sensitive, staining the sheets with his fluid. he's full on sobbing at this point, not wanting more than for you to cum. "cum for me, mommy, p-please. i've been good, make a mess on my cock, mommy. you sound so pretty like this"

by the end of it, both of you are breathing heavily through the phone. a moment of silence before you burst into giggles. "you're so cute, artie."

he rolls his eyes, chuckling. "i feel like such a slut right now. i've got no pants on and i have cum everywhere"

he hears you smile through the phone, "if it makes you feel better, my fingers and my thighs are all sticky."

"i miss you so much" he sighs, "can't wait to see you"

"i can't wait either, baby. next time, i'm not gonna let your cum go to waste."