#text: evie

[helluvabun]

canon

[starling-illu]

character design practice with stormlight ladies <3

[thatcrazycrowgirl]

I know some of y'all have missed my text post nonsense, so here's the glorious return of the silliness!

[glitter-and-metal]

The Mummy movies vs the internet

[y-urios]

　　⢷ 　　♡　　 .　act like an angel 　　 ♩　　( ˘˘)

　　⢷ 　　♡　　 .　and dress like crazy 　　 ♩　　( ˘˘)

[lamaery]

some more art for femslash February featuring Eshonai and Azure being the best worldhopping girlfriends out there. Leshwi and Jaxlim sharing a passion for growth and gardening.

(sorry I just had to add this comment from discord 😆) and Sja-Anat and Evi which could be loosely seen as accompanying art to this ficlet by @cosmereplay

(disclaimer: non of these ships I came up with myself but they were suggested by the amazing people from the Bridge Four Discord, when I asked for potential couples to scribble pictures for) 😀

[ashbards]

[text]: sim amg foi a maior coisa, não te contei pq enfim

[text]: mamãe chorou tanto, nunca tinha visto na vida

[text]: ai, vida, ele é sem noção né lógico que fez parecer que não era nada. menino abestado

[text]: te amo 🥺

@ashloch

[text]: oi anjo loiro da minha vida

[text]: vc tá na faculdade?

[gayafsowhat]

Morning Mischief

Evie Grimhilde x Reader

Summary: Evie wakes up her sleepy girlfriend

Word count: 355

Warnings: None, just silliness and fluff

A/N: I had a vision while on lunch break.

-~+~-

Evie leaned over the sleeping form of her girlfriend, gently prodding your shoulder.

"Y/n, my love. It's time to get up." She emphasized her sentence with a chaste kiss, to which you reacted with fluttering eyelids and a sharp inhale as the waking world beckoned you.

"Mrhm. Your true love's kiss has awakened me from my centuries long slumber..." You grumbled, your voice scratchy with sleep. You stretched, making an adorable squeaking sound and exhaled softly, before muttering a teasing "....five more minutes."

Evie shook her head and giggled and you rolled over, burying your face into the covers.

"Nuh-uh, sleeping beauty. You can't escape that easily." She yanked your covers down and viciously attacked your exposed ribs with tickles.

"NOOO!!" You howled, immediately awake as you frantically tried to stave off your girlfriend. "Foul play!!! Betrayal!!!!"

You fake cried into your pillow as Evie relented and sat back, satisfied with her work and assured that you would not be falling back asleep any time soon.

"You brought this upon yourself." She said unsympathetically, getting up and going to back to getting ready. You sighed and dragged yourself up into a sitting position, your lips forming a pout at her turned back.

"Traitor. I will never forgive this." You promised, heaving yourself out of bed and shuffling to change. Evie simply smiled to herself and shook her head at your dramatics.

"I'm sure you will when you remember that we have somewhere to be in half an hour." She replied, touching up her lipstick.

"Somewhere to- oh shoot." Your eyes widened and your shuffle turned into a dash as you lept into the closet to find something to wear, slightly panicked as you remembered the important event you had today. You rushed out with the clothes over one arm and bent down to kiss Evie's cheek. "I'm very sorry, you are the loveliest and most kind and my favoritest girlfriend in the universe and I will make up my heinous accusations to you later."

Evie chuckled as you darted away into the bathroom to get ready, eyes bright with affection.

"I'm counting on it."

[lgbtqtext]

[echo-nt]

I know this has already been said and I’m super late, but Mia as the protag of RE8 would have been so good. The contrast between Mia, the Lords, and Mother Miranda would have been absolutely interesting. I'm shoving everything under a read more because damn I have so many thoughts about Mia.

Lady Dimitrescu is a woman that cannibalizes and drinks the blood of her servants and intruders. On top of that, she tortures before preying on them. She does this willingly and very much derives pleasure from doing so. Lady D’s gothic triplets hunt any poor fool that wanders in. It’s a fun family activity for them just as much as it’s for sustenance. 

Do you know what this parallels? The Baker family under Eveline’s control. They patrol the estate and anyone who rejects the “gift” either ends up molded or on the dinner table. This family also partakes in a fucked up version of a family dinner, eating the victims that refused their little girl’s “gift.” 

However, a major difference between the Baker and Dimitrescu family is their willingness to participate in these activities. A family of cannibals; one forced while the other relishes in it. 

Mia is still very traumatized by her three years in the Baker’s estate. Breaking into the castle to find her daughter would force her back. Hello to all the emotions that come with those memories, the ones Mia has been trying to forget. The harder you try to forget something, the more you think about it. What better way to make Mia acknowledge Dulvey, Louisiana than by forcing her into something so similar? 

And while she’s still reeling from remembering her time in captivity, why not push her a bit further down memory lane with House Beneviento? Mia has demonstrated at multiple points in RE7 that she does care about other lives. She lies to Ethan to keep him from getting caught up in her work. She tries to save Alan and crew members of "The Annabelle" (the crew members are a bit more indirect, she mainly focused on Alan) by containing Eveline. After Jack finds her, Mia keeps her distance to keep from infecting them while trying to write a warning. She tries her hardest during RE7 to save Ethan. 

Mia’s hallucinations could center on her guilt. The failure to stop Eveline and the lives ruined as a result. How she was always too late to help anyone. Ethan curing her, a criminal, over Zoe, the person helping him. Leaving Zoe behind in the shattered remains of her home and family. Surviving. Visions of Ethan hinting at his “condition” could lure her to the manor. A little nudge to the whole “he was mold the entire time” plot twist without fully giving it away. 

Moreau, lacking in self worth and very attached to a woman who doesn’t give him the time a day, yet still he considers her as his mother. Most of his actions are for the attention and validation from his “mother.” No matter what Moreau does, he’ll never have her affection or time. It’s sad, isn’t it? To witness a man try so hard only to be rejected. And isn’t that familiar? Mia once felt compassion for someone with similar traits. 

Remember the little girl who considered you her mother? The one that spent three years waiting for you to love her after you promised? The one you had a hand in killing? What makes you think you could ever be a good mother after what you did? Why are you trying so hard to save Rose when you didn’t even extend the same courtesy to Eveline?

Y’all know how Mia’s past is a mystery? Like why she was working for the Connections and how she was even recruited and all that. Heisenberg would be a great way to explore it. A man taken, forced into becoming something else, and stuck in a family he doesn’t want. Mia can relate. He wants to use her daughter as a weapon. She was willing to let another child be used as a weapon. They’re alike, so surely Mia would be willing to side with him.

But Heisenberg is cocky and Mia isn’t the person she was prior/during 7. Even if she was on board with using Eveline as a weapon to end all wars or whatever bullshit the Connections told her, she’s not willing now. Not after what she’s seen and been through. This section could be Heisenberg goading her through the tvs/intercoms about her past to change her mind with Mia remaining steadfast in her refusal.

And then there’s Mother Miranda. Two mothers trying to get their daughters back through vastly different means. Because of the group photo showing Mia and Miranda with Eveline this encounter can go one of two ways. 

Miranda and Mia know each other and have worked together before. Whether it be on the E-Series Project (with Mia becoming the caretaker and spending copious amounts of time at the lab) or though some other means at work. 

They’ve only briefly met when the Connections were in a hurry to transport Eveline.

Either way, Miranda would compare them. As a mother, Mia must understand what she’s trying to accomplish. Would Mia not do the same as she? Maybe at this point Miranda shows she killed Ethan to demoralize to prevent her from interfering with the ceremony. Tells her she’s too late once again and to give Rose to her because she’ll be the superior mother.

Idk, I guess you could switch to Ethan instead of Chris so he can still have Eveline tell him he’s moldy. But he’s a stubborn man and he forces himself back to weaken Miranda so Mia can kill her. Chris shows up and Ethan does the same thing he did at the end by blowing himself up with Chris forcing Mia (with Rose) on the helicopter. That way the Shadow of Rose DLC can still be about Rose and Ethan. 

TLDR; Mia should have been the protagonist because it would have allowed us to explore her character and background more. It was a missed opportunity especially since so much of RE8 centers around mothers. It would have played out better as closing off the Winters Family saga as well since we could have tied the loose ends that came with Mia’s mysterious past.

[stalebagels]

Strike Force Text Posts: Stephen Edition 📖

[helluvabun]

He's talented... in his own way

[ashwritesandyaps]

Random text posts that remind me of the core four

[writtenbyevie]

i may be an adult, but i’m not a grown up. hope this helps!

[blisshuas]

ᶜᵃˡˡⁱⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ᵇᵉˢᵗ ᶠʳⁱᵉⁿᵈˢ ʷᵉⁱʳᵈ ⁿⁱᶜᵏⁿᵃᵐᵉˢ ʷʰⁱᶜʰ ᵍᵉᵗˢ ʷᵉⁱʳᵈᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳ ᵖᵉʳˢᵒⁿ.

✧ seventeen hyung line x reader

✧ warning: lotta mentions of food, suggestive implication, mention of periods and idk more lemme know if i missed something.

✧ inpo: austin and lexi tiktoks.

✧ a/n: i am very new to this and this is my very first try to post something hope you overlook some mistakes and lemme know if you enjoyed it or want this for maknae line too<3

[hannahssimblr]

Sometime later, while disposing of my beer can I overhear a snippet of her conversation with Shane. “... then ask her yourself,” she’s saying, and my ears perk up. 

“What are you two talking about?” Evie jumps about a foot in the air when I speak, which amuses me. “Sorry Evie, didn’t mean to scare you.” 

Her hand is trembling as she touches her hair. “I was telling him that he should ask Claire on a date.” 

I hack out a laugh. Shane? Ask Claire on a date? Never. “Jen has him tortured about that, too. He won’t do it.”

Shane shuffles his feet around. “Ah, it’s not like that. I… I don’t fancy her.”

“You do though.”

“No…”

“Yes, obviously, man.”

“No, even if I did, I couldn’t… She’s too…” He seems ashamed for having the audacity to be attracted to her at all.

“Far be it from me to say anything nice about you,” Evie says. “But she’s been with uglier boys.”

I snort. “You’ll never know how she feels about you until you ask her. It’s not that hard. Text her and say that you want to hang out on your own with her.” It feels like we are ganging up on him, but I believe that guys like Shane, ones who are chronically awkward around the opposite sex, need to be bullied into romantic situations. He didn’t lose his virginity until January, for God’s sake. Mine feels like such a distant memory and is so detached from the intrinsic parts of who I am that I can hardly remember what it felt like to have it. 

He pulls his phone out of his pocket and stares at the black screen dolefully. “And how do I phrase that?”

I whip it out of his hands and locate his messages with Claire. It’s more pathetic than I anticipated. He’s said hi, she’s said hi back and like a gutless fool, he’s let the conversation shrivel and die right there, at the very first hurdle. I begin typing something else. Curious, Evie comes closer to peek at my work and I playfully shoulder her away. “This isn’t for your eyes, Evie. This is personal business.”

She’s making it hard to compose my masterpiece. The magic words that will make the beautiful, ethereal Claire O’Gorman fall in love with Shane, the guy with the squarest head I’ve ever seen in real life. It’s a challenge, but I can make it happen.

“Let me see!” she pesters, and I twist myself away. This way, that way, even lifting the phone above my head so that she can’t reach it. It’s not that I don’t want her to see it, I don’t care. Honestly, it’s just fun to play this game. I add the final bracket to the smiley face with a flourish and then I whirl on her. 

“You should mind your own business.” 

She pretends to be offended. “Why wouldn’t you show me?”

“Because it’s a private conversation!” Behind my back, I hand the phone back to Shane.

He grumbles. “Ah no, I can’t send this to her. Who would send this?”

“I would send it,” I say, and it’s true. I would send it. Just not in any circumstance where I was searching for a pure, healthy relationship with mutual respect and love. 

“What are we crying about?” Jen says, then her eyebrows fly up her forehead as Shane tilts the screen to her. “Let me have a guess at who typed this,” she jabs her finger at me and tuts, taking the phone out of his hands to delete what I wrote. 

Sit on my face :-) 

Is poetry. They just don’t possess enough knowledge to understand the nuance of my work. 

“Filthy.” She mutters. “Don’t let him send this to poor sweet Claire. Don’t worry, Shane, I’ll help you write something that a woman would appreciate.”

Evie raises an eyebrow at me as they pore over the phone. “Why didn’t you want me to see the text?”

“Because you wanted it too badly.” 

“The only reason I wanted to see it was because you wouldn’t show me!”

“Well, I guess you’ll never know.” I pluck a can of beer out of Kasper’s ink stained school bag and offer it to her. Though cheap, warm beer feels like a slightly insulting thing to present to someone as nice as she is. Still, it distracts from having to explain myself. “Do you want this?” 

She smirks. “Are you sure I’m allowed?”

“Yes, I’ll allow it.” 

She cracks it open and drinks with an ease that seems uncharacteristic. She doesn’t seem like a drinker, and I struggle to remember if she was doing so at the barbeque. 

“I’m surprised you guys will spare me a meagre can of your Tesco brand cider,” she throws me a sidelong glance, “seeing as I’m not allowed to smoke your weed or read your silly text messages.”

“You can smoke our weed.” I gesture towards Shane, texting Claire with his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth. “Don’t let him stop you. Just go ask Joe and he’ll give you some.” 

She becomes very meagre and polite again. “Oh, no, I don’t feel like any right now, thanks.” 

“Sure.”

“You’re not smoking either.”

“No, I actually don’t ever smoke. Or do any drugs. I just don’t like the way that my body feels when I’ve had them.” Yes, it’s a lie, but only halfway. I haven’t done cocaine or molly in, like, a year, so I’m basically abstinent, and I don’t particularly like how any of it feels. The complete lack of control, and the inconsistency of the high, is unappealing. Not to mention the fact that I always feel like I have stolen two weeks of joy and meaning from my future self when I do them. The whole, truthful explanation is convoluted and I know explaining it will be overwhelming, so I change the subject. “So, what brought you and Liam into town tonight?” 

She sighs sadly and prods a boardwalk splinter with the toe of her shoe, “We wanted to come in and get something to eat and hang out together, but honestly, I don’t think it went well at all.”

“Oh really, why not?”

“He asked me to go to his debs with him.”

I figure it’s best to feign ignorance and get comfortable against the railing behind us. The wind from Wexford Harbour blows strands of fine hair across her face, and she hooks it behind her ears. 

“And what?” I press, “You said that you don’t want to go?”

“I said that I’ll think about it, and I know that’s not what he wanted to hear.”

“I mean, probably not, but if you don’t want to go, then he has to accept it.”

“Well, I don’t know whether I want to go or not. It just came up really suddenly, and I didn’t know how to answer him, so I just said that, and I think it’s probably as bad for him as if I had just said no. I wish I could go back and have another chance at that conversation, honestly.” 

I watch the side of her face. She doesn’t owe him a thing. “Well, if you were to go back now, would you say yes?”

“Maybe.”

“And for who?”

She frowns. “What do you mean?”

“Who would you be saying yes for? For yourself or for him, because you know it’s what he’d want you to say?”

My question seems to frustrate her. “I don’t know. Him, I guess. I just don’t want him to be mad at me.”

“You know already that’s not a good enough reason. If you don’t feel like going, then just say no, he can deal with it.”

“I know that it sounds really stupid to you, probably, but I really can’t stand it when people are upset around me. I feel like I have to do everything in my power to make them forgive me.”

“Including going to the debs with Liam, even though you don’t want to do that?”

“Well... I didn’t say I don’t want to go with him.”

“Okay, well hypothetically then.”

“Hypothetically… yeah, I would go.”

I chuckle, “You’re an enigma.” 

“Nothing that deep, I don’t think. Just allergic to conflict.”

“Well… do whatever you have to do, but personally… I don’t think I’d give a shit if someone like Liam was annoyed at me. What is he going to do?”

She turns her whole body towards me, eyes wide like my casual demeanour is offensive to her, “be mad and make me feel awful!” She declares. “He already did that this morning and I’ve been feeling ill all day over it, you should have seen him when he opened the Surf Shack, he didn’t even want to let me inside to talk to him, and he was just-”

“But why was he like that with you this morning?”

She hesitates. “I… forgot to text him back.”

“Evie…”

“I know, but I left the texts unread for nearly a whole day.”

“There are messages in my phone that have gone unanswered for months.”

“Yeah, but it’s different when it’s- it’s just different with Liam and I.”

“He’s not your boyfriend.”

“He isn’t.” 

I sense we could go around in circles like this forever, and the fact of the matter is that she seems to have some clear lack of understanding about what she owes to that boy and what she doesn’t. I know I’m not getting anything through to her, so eventually I just let her off the hook.

“Are you cold?” I ask her as a palpable shiver rips through her body. The skin of her forearms is goose-pimpled as that bracing wind whips around us both and rocks the boats moored to the dock. She’s only wearing a tiny pair of denim shorts and a top made from the sort of material that’s almost see-through.

“No, I’m alright. I’ll survive.” She says.

Jen interrupts us before I am compelled by forces that transcend common sense to be very foolish and obvious and put my hoodie on Evie, and it’s just as well. 

“We’re thinking of going to that nightclub in town.” She informs us. “Do you guys want to come?”

“I don’t have ID,” Evie says. “They won’t let me in.”

“Oh yeah, shoot, you’re not old enough. I forgot.”

“Go on without me, though. I don’t mind. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

Jen hesitates, “Are you sure? How will you get home?”

“I’ll get a taxi, I suppose.” 

It’s a ridiculous idea. “I’ll take you home,” I say, and it’s not a big deal. I’m going that way, anyway. 

“Honestly, it’s fine. I don’t mind getting the taxi.” She glances up and down the quays, and the idea of it feels wrong. She’s never been here before, and wouldn’t even know where to go to hail one. 

“Let me bring you home. It’s no problem.”

She smiles at me, relieved, while I pointedly ignore the looks that everyone else is giving me. Especially Jen. I’ll be hearing about this later, I’m doubtless, but for now I will pretend that I live in a world where she can mind her own business. 

When we break from the group and walk towards the other end of the quay, I am conscious of the silence, of the hollow sound our footsteps make on the boards. The waves break in steady succession against the rock bank below us. 

Here, the wind is increasing, and the land is completely exposed to the coast. Even during balmy summer evenings, it never stays warm all night. Evie should have brought a coat with her, and as she clutches her arms around her narrow body, I wonder why she never thought to. 

“You’re cold,” I say, and she nods, finally, in agreement. Her teeth are bared and chattering and the tip of her nose has gone pink.

“Yes, I’m cold.”

“Here.” I decide that I no longer mind being foolish and obvious when there is nobody else looking, so I remove my hoodie and hand it to her. It is huge. She needs to roll the sleeves up so that they don’t hang ridiculously to her knees like she’s wearing the clothing of some sort of ape, and as I watch her do it, I catch myself resisting the urge to help her.

One last shudder leaves her body. “Where did you park your car?” 

“I didn’t bring it.”

“So we’re walking?!” 

I laugh. “No! I cycled. Oh, hang on,” the keys to my bike lock are still inside my hoodie, so I slip my hand inside to get them. I don’t think she’ll mind, but she jumps as soon as my fingers graze her thigh through the material of the pocket. I flinch. “Oh, sorry.” The lock releases easily and I untangle my bike from a pole. It’s a shit heap, bent spokes and broken pedals galore. I gesture to it humorously. “Well, hop on,”

“Okay!” she climbs on after me, perching on the pannier rack while my fingers flex around the handlebars with anticipation. She adjusts herself, and then her arms poke around my sides and hook around my waist. The feeling of her pressed up against me sets off a series of feelings in my body, which I push to the side and staunchly ignore. 

“Tighter than that,” I tell her, and as her arms lock around me, her wrist grasped in her hand, I kick free from the curb and wheel away into the night.

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Corresponding LG Chapter [2]