#this is more of a character study so i can draw him in the future

[sskk-manifesto]

--

[tsuzukerukoto]

👤 for renge!

@himedachi Send me 👤+ a character name for my muse’s opinion on that character

" Kasuga-san has an interesting way of looking at idioms, doesn't she? H-Hey, I don't mean that in a bad way at all! I just don't think I've thought of a poem in the way she has before... It's coming from how seriously she's thinking about it, right? It's not just poems, either-- I can tell how much she enjoys history just from listening to her. Kasuga-san's face lights up with enthusiasm about it, too. "

“ To be honest, I think that part of her is inspiring. “

[originalwinnerfanfish]

Well, I did it

Megatron - I love his tfp design. Probably one of the best iteration of Megs. He is huge, heavy armoured, his face covered with scars… He doesn’t looks like an ordinary military leader who is only capable of giving orders, but like real warrior who can destroy any enemy with his bare hands.

So, in the WOF version, he definitely shares some features with Princess Burn, not only because of his might, but also because of his horns shape and dirty-dark scales (that absorbed blood of his enemies)

Starscream - Boy, I hate him so much 🤣… but in the good way, trust me! In my opinion, when the show's creators make you feel such strong negative emotions towards a villain, it means they've done a great job. Also, I think that his animation in the show was absolutely incredible, because even though he's a 3D model, he still manages to move like a 2D character, which is amazing!

I feel that in my design he still looks more like a skywing, than an icewing (which is kinda logical)

Soundwave - This one was tricky. I couldn't figure out what his mask would look like, so I just made his face a really dark color. I think Soundwave has both gifts of the nightwings, and he’s equally great at telepathy and a future vision. So he doesn't really need equipment to predict enemy movements, which makes him an ideal communicator in the WOF setting. His Laserbeak is part of the armor enchanted by Shockwave, and it might also allow him to open portals (but I'm not sure with this one)

Shockwave - My favourite evil genius. He would definitely have animus magic and mind reading. I think Shockwave is the only one who has advanced the study of magic so far, precisely because he combined it with scientific knowledge and created safer methods of using it, that don't damage the mind. It's like if a Mastermind got animus magic in books.

I also like to think that he didn't heal the damaged part of his face just so that his enemies would fear him more)

Dreadwing - This man deserved better! It's really a shame that he was removed from the show so quickly due to financial problems. It would be great if his arc got a proper conclusion in season 3.

Considering that I didn't want to make him a hybrid, it was difficult to choose a suitable color palette. So let’s just say, that I tried my best😅

I don’t think that he would have any nightwing powers, but honestly it doesn’t even matter - this guy can make a bombs, what else does he need to be cool

Arachnid - Did anyone even doubt that she would be a hivewing? Damn, she even got her own “Othermind” virus. Her design was the easiest to work with - just a little poisonous ass (suspiciously similar to Maleficent).

Just like Starscream, I hate her, but in a good way. She's one of the creepiest characters in the entire series, who’s acting like a fucking heartless monster, especially with Arcee, but even so, there's always was something mesmerizing about her. I just really like strong female villains

Knockout - Wery bright and charismatic guy, definitely one of my fav cons!

I tried to draw him as handsome as possible. Worked a lot on the face shape and coloring, and as for me it turned out pretty nice (finally).

Most decepticons think Knockout is as stupid and lazy as all the other rainwings. And it's not like he completely disagrees with that. Of course he’s not stupid and lazy, but if it’s means less dirty work on the battlefield, well, he’ll continue act like a tipical rainwing

(I also believe that Megatron keeps him as an “art”)

Breakdown - Fun fact: "Operation Breakdown" was the very first thing I saw in this series. And it was an interesting experience for 8 year old me. Maybe that's why I'm so scared of eye gouging scenes in movies now…

I think that he didn't have any siblings initially due to his parents nature, and even after meeting Bulkhead, he felt uncomfortable among the other mudwings. And this is why he later chose the side of the decepticons. And maaaaybe because of one cute rainwing influence)

P.s.

I think that, being mostly nightwings and icewings, the decepticons are much more concerned about purity of their blood and rarely accept half-breeds into their ranks.

During the war, there were many animus dragons among decepticons, which is why they have so many artifacts that allowed teleportation and communication at a distance. But, honestly, I still can't imagine what Nemesis would look like in this AU

[bellasweetwriting]

Something sweet about him { clark kent x f. reader }

masterlist

plot: maybe the smell of fresh flowers was all Y/N needed to clear her mind, and realize how much she desires her best friend Clark Kent.

tags: smut, fingering, +18 characters, y/n is spelled to act to her desires, what she truly wants

prompt: “maybe I can teach you a thing or two.”

Clark Kent stares at you as you walk across the Talon, holding a tray of recently brewed cappuccinos towards a table to the left of the place. The way your whole body tilts forward as you place the mugs on the round table, letting any passing bystander take a look at the way your jeans hug your thighs nicely, highlighting every inch he just dreams of touching.

“Clark!” Lana calls him, making the guy turn around quickly, embarrassed. “What are you doing?”

“Mhm? Nothing, nothing. Studying… stuff. I have a test soon.”

“You know you can talk to her, right? She’s your friend.”

“Talk to who?”

Lana laughed before walking away, leaving the path clear for you, as you dropped the tray on top of Clark’s table and sat right in front of him, sighing in an exaggerated manner. Your legs were killing you, your arms felt wobbly, and you were just glad to see Clark at your place of work.

“You owe me five bucks,” you said, looking at the books he had on top of the table. “I didn’t drop any coffee today, and in three minutes I finish my shift.”

“Anything could happen in three minutes.”

“You have so little faith in me, Kent, it’s becoming insulting. Besides, I have a deadline.” You showed him your drawings that you kept in your apron’s pocket. “I need to finish these for my composition class.”

“They look really good.”

“They’re trash. I have to start over.” You hand one to him. “Use it as a napkin for all I care.”

“Y/N,” another waitress called you, interrupting your conversation. “There’s a guy on the door for you. And he has flowers.”

You looked up, noticing Ryan, the guy you’ve been seeing for the past two weeks, standing there in front of the door with flowers in his hand, smiling widely. You smiled the same, standing up from the chair.

“I’ll see you at the farm later, Kent. Remember my five bucks.” You pat him on the shoulder, standing up from the chair and walking in his direction.

You’ve been seeing this guy for a few days, and you’re not sure if you see a future, but you’re free for him to change your mind.

“Flowers? I think you have the wrong girl, cowboy,” she joked, receiving them with a smile.

“I know, I know, but the woman that sold them to me said they were perfect to know what a girl truly feels, and there’s nothing I’d like more to actually get to know you, Y/N.”

“Am I that mysterious?” You asked, smiling.

“I’d say good at hiding.”

You looked down at the flowers, leaning over them and sniffing them, the naturalist and feminine smell of it hitting you up like a train, your thoughts suddenly clouded, but immediately cleared into the clearest they’ve ever been. Your thoughts have never been louder than this, clearer, exactly where your mind is has never been so… right.

“Clark,” you muttered.

•••

He wasn’t at the talon, he wasn’t in the loft, so, naturally, you searched for him at his farm, where Mrs. Kent greeted you with a smile on her face and welcoming arms.

“It’s so good to see you, sweetheart,” she mumbled softly as she wrapped you in her arms. “You look so good. So grown up, I’d say.”

“I try my best, Mrs. Kent,” you joked. “Is Clark around?”

“He’s in the kitchen. Come in.” You walked inside, your eyes going straight for the kitchen to see Clark Kent there, fixing the upper cabinet with a screwdriver. “Why are you wearing that big sweater? Aren’t you hot?”

“Boiling,” you muttered, staring at the back of your best friend as it arched.

His big arms, his muscles, all calling you, and finally you’ve being able to see the signal with a clear mind.

“Clark,” Mrs. Kent called him, gaining his attention. “Y/N is here.”

“Y/N, hey,” he said with a smile, dropping the tools on the counter and approaching you. “I thought we had scheduled for later. Where did you drop Ryan off?”

“Who cares about him?” You asked. “Can I show you something at the loft? If you’re not too busy, of course.”

“Yeah, sure. Are you okay, though? You seem a bit strange,” he asked, but you simply grabbed his hand, dragging him outside through the kitchen door. “Alright.”

You practically dragged him outside into the barn. He was probably a foot taller than you, could lift an elephant, and had the strength of a million men, but when it came to you, he let himself being dragged like a dog, a moth to a flame, he did not care.

As you reached the top of the loft, you let yourself fall onto the couch, staring at the object of your true desires clearer than ever.

Maybe the only people that didn’t know Y/N loved Clark Kent where Y/N and Clark Kent, because now that you did, everything seemed so clear. Whatever was in the pollen of that flower let you see things in a different perspective. He was what you wanted. Next to you, on top of you, inside of you. His big arms holding you, his body on top of yours, his hands touching your skin.

Your skin was practically boiling to the thought of Clark Kent without a shirt, let alone without pants.

“How long have we’ve been friends, Clark?” You asked, playing with the zipper of the oversized sweater you were wearing. “You’ve clearly grown up a lot. More than vertically. Do you think I’ve grown up too?”

“Uhm, well… yeah, yeah, you have. What’s going on?”

“And do you like what you see?”

“What?”

“I’ve seen you check me out, Clark. I even know which one of my jeans you like best by the amount of time you keep staring,” you said, playfully, making the big, strong, tall and handsome Clark Kent blush. “Am I wrong?”

“I didn’t think I was that obvious.”

“You’re a very bad liar, Kent,” you said, standing up, moving closer in his direction. “I like that you stare. Makes me want to pose more.”

He took a step back, practically crashing against the fence behind him. He let out a nervous chuckle, trying badly to stay away from the imminent force coming in his direction.

“I think something happened to you, Y/N. You’re not acting like yourself.”

“Actually, I think I’ve never seen things more clearer than this. You’re what I want, Clark, you’ve always been. You’ve always just been so… unattainable.”

“Unattainable?”

“Always have kept your distance. And I’ve respected it, rejecting my feelings, fooling myself. But now, for some reason, I’ve never seen the sky so bluer… Everything just makes sense. And I’m going after what I want, and it’s you. I want you.”

You grabbed his hand, making him hold the zipper of your sweater and pulling it down, revealing the outfit you’ve hidden underneath.

A red lace bra and short denim shorts that didn’t leave anything to interpretation.

“Do you want me too?”

He looked down, his breath slowly increasing as the sight of your breasts came so close to him he could practically lose it. He couldn’t contain his smile, your scent of vanilla and cinnamon making his judgement feel clouded, as the closeness of the object of his desires was making him loose his mind.

“Yes,” he said, as if it has slipped out and didn’t have time to even use reason. His heart, and his dick, were thinking for him. “Uhm… what… Uh, what are you wearing? Uhm…”

“Do you like it?”

“I think we need to talk about this first.”

“Don’t you think we’ve done plenty of that already? Maybe what we need is to shut up… and use our mouths for something else.”

The way your lips crashed into his took him by surprise. You tasted like cherry lip balm and fresh coffee, your hair was quick get his hands lost in, he grabbed you by the waist, holding you closer, pushing you deeper, as if the one that had been hiding his desires was him and not you.

He didn’t feel strange, he felt right at home, as if your lips were the most familiar sentiment he had ever experienced, even if it was his first time tasting them. It didn’t feel new, it just felt right.

“Wait,” he said, the sweater that was covering you falling to the floor, and your hands quickly loosening that first button, revealing his neck to you. “Y/N” He mumbled your name as your lips touched the skin of his neck. His eyes practically rolled out of their sockets to the back, his face melting at the touch. “Y/N,” he begged for mercy, placing his hand on the back of your head.

He grabbed the beam of the railing for support, breaking it instantly as he grabbed it too hard, splinters of wood falling all over the place.

“God!” He yelled.

You grabbed him by the shirt, pushing him to the coach. Then, you sat on his laps, the exposed skin of your thighs touching the harsh denim of his jeans. You finally ripped off the last buttons of his shirt, revealing that tone abdomen that drove you crazy all those visits to the lake, where you could see that glorious farm boy all exposed to the sun, the muscles of his back tensing as he swam. You couldn’t help yourself and licked his chest.

“Y/N, I really don’t want to hurt you,” he said, keeping his hands locked onto the coach.

“I’m not fragile, farm boy,” you said, smiling teasingly, “maybe I can teach you a thing or two.” You unbuckled his belt quickly, tossing it aside. “What do you think about riding?”

He gulped. “Horses?”

You smiled. “Sure, Kent,” you said, helping him by driving his hands to your breasts. “Have you ever done this before? Want me to take control?”

But then, a cheeky smile appeared on his face. He grabbed your waist and tossed you to the couch, your whole back leaning on the seat. He placed himself on top of you, the fire in his eyes growing, and you could swear you saw them turn orange like flames.

“I got it,” he said, smiling.

Clark Kent was a man of many mysteries.

“Are you sure want this?”

“I think I’ve been hiding for so long how much I’ve wanted this. How much I’ve wanted you,” you said under your breath, smiling bigger than you’ve ever had before. “Are you going to kiss me or not, Kent?”

“I’m going to do more than that,” he mumbled, joining your lips once more. “I really can’t believe this is happening,” he said, his lips still on top of yours, trying to hold back his smile in order to kiss you, but struggling to do so. “You’re so hot. Fuck…”

“Did you just swear?” You said, chuckling, as his lips found your neck, and his hands found the button of those tiny denim shorts you had on. “God…”

His hand slid inside your panties so quickly you thought it was inhuman. The way his fingers touched your clit made you crumble to pieces, melt into his big muscled arms. They barely touched it, leaving you wanting more. He just move his hand to your butt, squeezing it, smiling.

“You’re so wet,” he said.

“Clark,” you said as his hand move back to your front, his fingers close enough to touch, but not enough to make you feel what you want to. “Please…” you begged.

“I thought you were going to teach me,” he groaned, bitting your earlobe.

“You already know what I want.”

“Teach me how to make you cum,” he asked you lowly to your ear, your legs opening practically to the sound of his voice. “Show me what you like.”

You grabbed his hand, closing in the distance he had with your center, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you felt his warm, rough, touch. You moved his hand in circles, in the rhythm you liked, your eyes on his as he watched you about to cum.

He was so mesmerized by you, by the way your breath was shaking up as you felt so close to completion, the way your face showed how much you liked what he was doing to you, the way he was handling your body.

“Clark,” you called him as your eyes closed. “Oh God, I’m about to…”

He kissed you, letting you moan in his mouth as the orgasm made your body tremble, shake you up.

You were completely out of breath, sweating, while he looked as if nothing had happened, he was completely fine.

“You okay?” He asked you, helping you sit back down on the couch. “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no… I was just thinking… Why didn’t I do this sooner?”

“Come to my place in your underwear?”

“No… Just… Stop overthinking. I’ve known about my feelings for a long time. I just had to push those cloudy thoughts away.”

Clark smile, kissing you softly. “It was worth the wait.”

[axiina]

I saw your post about writing for Coriolanus Snow Andi was thinking classic enemies to lovers nsfw I’ll give you free liberty with everything else 💕

'I hate you' is new 'I love you'

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral afab)

Summary: When your professor tells you to come to an agreement with your enemy, and you take 'come' too literally.

Words: 3.2k

Themes: smut, nsfw

Warnings: using of 'you' to reader, set before events of tbosas so no actual spoilers, more like academic rivals to lovers but they want to fight at some point so I guess it counts, NSFW | public sex (or more semi-public), unprotected sex (wrap it before tap it), p in v sex, kinda toxic but it's enemies to lovers, more like enemies who fuck, Coryo is pretty rough and possessive, marking, making out, idiots in love but they prefer fighting with each other

Author's note: I found some free time between studying, so I decided that I can no longer delay. English is not my first language so i hope that i didn't do too much mistakes. It is possible that a single "she" or "her" will appear here because I changed the concept during writing and I do not know if I got rid of everything. Let me know whether to stay with the use of 'you' or maybe replace it with personal pronouns or 'y/n'. I hope it's not written very awkwardly and you will like it!!

Coriolanus Snow is a peculiar person. Most people love him. Nice, classy, handsome and rich from a wealthy family. What more could one want? However, one of Coriolanus' traits that everyone seems to turn a blind eye to is his two-facedness. Some say this is merely a symptom of his cunning and wits. He knows when and how to behave to make his counterpart happy. You are not one of those people. Saying that you and Coriolanus Snow don't like each other is a huge understatement. You guys hate each other. From the very beginning when you both met at the academy it was known that you would cause a lot of problems. Too much of a character difference, or perhaps too much of a similarity between the two. However, this is not what is crucial. Whatever it is, it makes you two most likely to kill each other if you could. Every move you make you do to screw each other up. To prove who is better.

Professor Satyria's pleas for you to finally come to an agreement are of little use. The conflict must go on, and neither of you has any intention of giving up.

You like the way things are working out. At first, Snow was annoying and you didn't understand how people couldn't see him for what he really was. Fake. Now he is still annoying, but getting under his skin has become a sort of routine. Quite a pleasant one.

"You have to get along with each other and set a good example as rightful citizens of the Capitol, otherwise the Academy will draw out the consequences."

Professor Satyria's words continue to ring in your ears as you get ready to go home after finishing classes and doing punishment work. On the one hand, you don't want something as silly as arguing to weigh on your future, but on the other hand, reaching out to agree is like admitting you were wrong. Failure.

"Wherever I am you must also appear. Are you obsessed with me?" Behind your back, you heard a familiar, annoyingly kind voice, in which you could sense some arrogance. You groaned turning around to see no one else but Coriolanus.

"Don't you have anything better to do? People are finally getting tired of your idiocy?" Your words, however, did not budge the blond. His expression remained unchanged. One that might make most people think he is a nice person. You, however, have known him long enough to see right through it. Perfect. Too perfect.

"We need to talk. A positive outcome for both sides. It will interest you." Well, the threat of Satyria. He is the first one to extend his hand for agreement. Where is the trick? You look at him suspiciously without saying a word, and so Snow takes it as a sign that you are thinking about the proposition. "Do you have free time? Maybe we could go out somewhere together?"

The suggestion makes you burst into laughter. "With you? No thanks, I'll pass on this pleasure."

Coriolanus is not surprised by your answer. He knew it wouldn't be that easy. Accepting rejection, however, is not his strong point. He is annoyed by your behaviour, but he bites his tongue to avoid responding in the same spiteful way. Instead, he doesn't give up.

"I know we were never on good terms, but I want this war between us to end. I hope we can put behind us all the bad things that happened between us and start fresh. What do you think about this?" he says, sounding quite sincere.

"Let me think." You say and sigh, pondering the answer, which is obvious, but you can't let go of a little malice. "No."

The expression on Snow's face became more serious. It seems that your refusal offended his pride. But he doesn't show it in his tone of voice.

"Why not?" he asks and you notice how he clenches his jaw and his gaze becomes unpleasant.

You enjoy the view and it fills you with satisfaction. "Because you think that with a pretty face and fake politeness, you can get anything. Maybe it works with others, but I'm not that stupid. Additionally, you are damn annoying. That's why."

The expression on Snow's face becomes dark. Typical when he fails to get what he wants. His usual tone is completely gone. His face is twisted with anger. He still tries to maintain a polite voice. The attempt fails.

"Do you want to repeat it?" he asks through his teeth. It's obvious that you've hit one of his sensitive points. That was the plan.

"Exhausting, isn't it? Hiding behind the mask of a nice and put-together boy from a highly placed family who is a veritable ideal is tiring, isn't it?" A mockery can be heard in your voice. Coriolanus is very sensitive to it.

"What do you think you know about me?" He asks through clenched teeth, his tone no longer artificially polite, it is filled with rage. Your mockery has really gotten to him. He tries to calm down, but it's all in vain. Coriolanus has never had problems with self-control, but something about you makes him ready to abandon everything. You manage to get him off balance with ease. In his head, he has one plan. To destroy you.

"Do you think you pretend so well?" You burst out laughing and shake your head. You know you shouldn't say such things. The academy is practically empty, and Coriolanus's angry enough can be unpredictable. However, you can't help but point out everything that annoys you about him. "It's actually quite easy to see what kind of person you are. You look at people with disgust, but when they look in your direction, you suddenly change dramatically. how fake you are to everyone. I wonder how they don't see it. How empty and shallow you are."

"You don't know anything about me!" Snow shouts at you, his face twisted with rage. He is barely able to control himself. He doesn't even try to hide it anymore. He stares at you with hatred in his eyes.

"Don't you dare assume that you know everything about me. You don't know me one bit. You don't know what my life is like. Don't think so highly of yourself. You aren't better than me." He continues, his voice getting louder with every word he says. You really hit his sensitive spot.

"I don't know everything and I'm not going to pretend otherwise. For me, the most important thing is acts, and in your case, they are fake and two-faced. You despise people, and you yourself are at the bottom." Irritation takes over. You know that at any moment you can say one word too many if you haven't already. However, someone has to talk it all out for him. Adrenaline makes you take a step closer to the upset boy without considering the possible consequences.

Snow seems to be on the verge of a breakdown. His fists are clenched and his eyes are wide open with rage. He is breathing hard, trying to control himself. He's not used to being treated this way by anyone. He has come this far over the years, solely because of himself and what role he has taken in society. You really succeeded in hurting his pride. "I warn you right now. Don't mock me any further."

"Why? What will you do? hit me? do it, I dare you. Then everyone will see how "perfect" you really are." You know the situation is starting to get dangerous. However, you come closer. It's stupid, you know it, and yet you do it. Maybe it's the way his reactions give you satisfaction, or maybe it's the way he looks at you.

You can see the hatred oozing from his eyes when they are locked on yours. His face is full of rage, his breathing heavy and his muscles tense.

He takes a step toward you with a clenched fist. You can see his knuckles turning white. He grabs you and presses you against the wall, his body against yours.

A second later, you feel him pressing you against the wall tighter than before, and his hand grips your throat.

You feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Your heart is pounding as if it wants to jump out of your chest. You feel a strange sensation in your lower abdomen. His eyes are cold, yet they make a pleasant shiver run through your body. His face is right next to yours, flesh pressing against yours. It was a matter of split seconds as you two pressed your lips to each other in an aggressive and hungry kiss.

He returns the kiss, wrapping his free hand around you. He seems to enjoy the kiss as much as you do.

You can feel his body trembling as he still tries to keep control of his overwhelming emotions, or maybe it's because of the situation you're in.

The two of you kiss aggressively. Snow's body shakes as he fights between his desire and how much you get on his nerves. You feel how rough but passionate his kiss is.

He draws you closer and your bodies press against each other. The friction of your bodies makes you uncontrollable over the muffled whimpers you make. You feel the bulge forming in his pants rubbing against your body.

The situation seems hazy, and only fragments register in your mind. How you both enter the bathroom without stopping your hungry and clumsy kisses, and your hands work to get rid of clothes that only makes it difficult. How Coriolanus presses your body against the wall slamming his hips against yours.

All this is to express yourself and give vent to all the negative emotions you have been holding for years.

Snow's body is now almost completely controlled by his emotions. His movements seem full of hatred and at the same time passion. He just wants to express himself using his flesh to claim you as his own.

You feel as if you are on fire, your body moves and reacts according to your desires. The tension that has built up between you for years is finally released, and it all comes out as raw passion.

His fast and aggressive movements make the place where your bodies meet burn in a pleasant way, and you think to yourself that it will be a miracle if you walk normally tomorrow. His dick stretches you nicely and his movements make your inside sting slightly. It's not a problem for now. Not now when your legs are wrapped around his waist and the only sounds you can make right now are moaning and repeating his name like a mantra.

Your body trembles at how rough his movements are, but you don't care now. The most important thing for you now is to show him how much you hate him. A broken moan leaves your lips when he reaches deeper.

Coriolanus feels your legs tighten around him. He moves slower now but is more passionate and rough. He holds your hips tightly, not caring if it is uncomfortable for you. His lips move to your neck, where he bites as if he is trying to unload all the emotions you are causing you this way.

His hips buck firmly against you. Each thrust makes your body more tired and aching but at the same time, it makes the whole experience even more pleasurable. If someone told you that you would end up having sex with your biggest rival in the academy bathroom, you would laugh in that person's face. There you are, panting, with your arms around his neck when Coriolanus Snow is abusing your cunt sensitive from too much friction.

Coriolanus brings his lips closer to your ear. His warm and irregular breathing makes a shiver go through your body. "Do you like it when I claim you as mine?" He purrs, his voice still filled with desire.

"I hate you, I hate you so much," You exhale in a trembling voice that takes a lot of trouble to keep from cracking. You bite and suck at the smooth skin of his neck, leaving there dark marks. "I hate you, Coriolanus Snow."

"I hate you too," Snow says with a low growl as he continues to hold you. He bites your shoulder, leaving marks on your skin. His moans are muffled by your skin, which he touches constantly, as if afraid that at any moment you might escape and leave behind only a faint memory.

You hate him, but you enjoy him. You are pleased when he takes you as his own. You are excited when he uses your body. You feel his passion and desire through his body. You feel his raw passion and it's hard to hate him now.

"oh go to hell" You hiss and bite your lower lip to stop your moans, feeling him moving faster.

He doesn't care if he hurts you or not. All he cares about is that you belong to him right now. His hips slam against yours in an aggressive peace. The bathroom is filled with sinful noises because you don't even think about the fact that someone might come in and hear them.

"you may have already fallen in love, but with me, it's not so easy" A trembling laugh leaves your lips. You feel your head getting foggier and foggier. It's hard for you to put together a meaningful sentence, "but you're doing a good job" a loud moan leaves your mouth. you close your eyes and throw your head back "mmm my sweet toy."

He hears your moans of pleasure, and his eyes close with a smile. He has won and he knows it. Snow always lands on top. He presses you against the wall with his body even tighter. His movements become more sloppy and deeper as if he wants to bury himself inside you. His body trembles as his lips leave broken moans and whimpers.

Passion is so strong that you can almost forget about hatred. You can almost fall in love with Coriolanus Snow. Almost. But you know that what you feel now is only lust, and you know that it's all temporary.

Not him. Not the arrogant boy whose whole life is based on lies. Not that boy who doesn't care about anyone. Not that boy with a beautiful face and mesmerizing blue eyes. Not him.

You press closer to his body, almost clinging to him as a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body.

Coriolanus lets out a raspy throaty moan feeling your walls pulsate around him. His voice is low and shaky. He doesn't seem to notice anything except the way you cling to his body. He moves faster and harder, making sure he satisfies you completely.

Snow is fully immersed in feelings. He can't think clearly or rationally. He only knows that he has to claim you, that he has to satisfy his needs. He wants to feel you and make the most of the situation. All his thoughts and desires are focused on you. His hip movements speed up as he reaches the climax. He hides his face in your neck to muffle his moans. His body stiffs as he comes inside you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, while his wrapped around your waist. you cling to each other, still not making contact with the real world as your breathing slowly calms down.

What happened in that bathroom is over, they both return to reality. Snow steps back slightly and helps you stand on your own two feet. He looks at you with heavy eyes. All the emotions he had been hiding inside him had finally been released.

He has won and he knows it. He has succeeded. But what now? Was it really worth it? This is not a question for now. Coriolanus does not look far into that future with his thoughts.

You look at each other in silence. Slowly you begin to realize what you have done and now you look at each other awkwardly and somewhat panicked.

Coriolanus is the first to break the silence. His cheeks are flushed and his breathing is faster. The passion he felt a minute ago still lingers in his heart, something he tries to hide from you. He looks at you with a somewhat absent and uncertain gaze

"Do you think we should forget what just happened?" He tries to make his voice sound normal as if nothing had happened.

"Definitely." The words leave your lips before you have time to think. You stare at each other in silence for a few more moments and begin to quickly put on your clothes.

Snow is surprised at how quickly you agree with him. He needs to make sure this is the end of what just happened between the two of you, so he adds.

"If anyone asks, it never happened." He now looks at you with a somewhat panicked expression on his face.

"You don't have to tell me," you scoff, buttoning your shirt, "if you tell even one soul, I'll kill you, I swear."

Coriolanus looks at you with small amusement while fixing his jacket. "I hope you won't become obsessed with me after this."

"Maybe in your dreams," you say with a slight smile fixing the collar of his shirt. " you better be careful that you are the one who will be lost in memories of me." Before you leave the bathroom you stop in front of the mirror and fix your uniform and hair. Coriolanus smiles for a moment but then quickly clears his throat and tries to look cold.

You both come out of the bathroom, look at each other and part your lips, as if to say something to each other, but you look at each other in silence "Now everything is back to normal. We can still hate each other," you say, but this does not improve your mood at all.

"It never happened," Snow says trying to look you in the eyes, wondering if you're thinking about it too. He wonders if what he feels is real, or if it's just a moment of passion.

"Never" You agree by nodding your head. Your gaze goes down to his mouth. As you look into his eyes again without a moment's thought you move closer to him and press your lips to his in-hungry kiss. He kisses you back wrapping his arms around you to bring your body closer.

You parts away after some time and you both catch your breath for a moment after this passionate kiss. Coriolanus is completely consumed with passion and there is nothing in his mind but you.

You move away and nod to each other as if you have just made a deal and each is walking in your own direction in a much better mood.

Maybe that's not exactly what Professor Satyria meant when she said you two should come to an agreement, but it certainly worked.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Cool for the Summer 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren't as you left them.

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: Hellooooooooo. I've done it.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

The heat is suffocating. There’s so many people crammed into the tight space. Enough to smother you and make you sweat. You're close to the end. 

The train is finally still and passengers rise to take down their bags and form a queue along the center aisle. You stay patiently in your seat. You’d rather wait there then brave the crowded shuffle as the impatience to disembark mounts. 

At last, the doors open and people begin to move. You don’t stand until the last person passes your row. Your suitcase is at the front of the car with the bigger luggage. 

Step-by-step you make your way up and slip your bag off the middle shelf. You haul it awkwardly to the door and the man on the ground helps bring it down. You thank him, looking only at his branded pin, and step off. 

You drag the bag behind you and hike up the smaller bag on your shoulder. You’re exhausted and it’s not even noon. The automatic doors stand open as the other passengers enter the station. You follow and wheel your bag to the side so you’re out of the way. 

You take out your phone. Your mother texted that she was here ten minutes ago. You can’t see much through the busy station. It’s summer and everyone is on their way somewhere; going home or heading out on vacation. 

You’re relieved to be back but you won’t be able to relax until you’re at your mom’s house. You can’t wait to hide in your room and catch up on your reading. After four years at college, you have a long list. 

As endless as your list may be, your reprieve won’t be. You have your degree now. You need to use it. Find a job, start your life, be an adult. The prospect is exciting but terrifying. More the latter as it entails associating with strangers. You’ve never been very good at that. 

You did so well in school because it’s all you did. You didn’t go out and party, you didn’t distract yourself with dating or drinking, you didn’t even sign up for that book club that looked fun. You only stayed in and studied and occasionally ate in the cafe instead of boiling ramen or ordering in. 

You don’t see her. You roll over to a free seat and sit. You text and ask where she is. 

The general public stirs around you, blending into your peripherals as you stare at your phone and wait. You’d be better off waiting outside. Maybe. There’s a line of taxis and it’s all clustered with people trying to claim one. 

“Ahem, excuse me.” The deep tone draws your head up but your eyes don’t go all the way. You focus on the man’s neck and the silver and brown stubble under his chin. He says your name and you sit up taller. “That’s you, right? Your mom showed me a pic. She’s just run to the bathroom.” 

“Huh?” You clutch your bag tight. 

“She did tell you I was coming, didn’t she?” He asks. 

You shake your head and gnaw on your lip, “no. Who are you?” 

You don’t know him. Not by his voice or the brief peek at his face. He’s older. Maybe her age. His dark hair is peppered with grey and his face is lined around his eyes and mouth, a few softer wrinkles in his forehead. His blue eyes are as bold as gems. 

“Bucky.” He answers as if that should be explanation enough. He offers his hand. “Finally, we meet.” 

You look around and accept his hand. You shake it. “Um, okay?” 

He lets you go and grabs the handle of your suitcase. You reach for it in panic and stand. You nearly tip over and barely avoid brushing against him. 

“She didn’t mention me. At all?” 

You shake your head. 

“Bucky,” your mom’s voice undercuts the awkward introduction. You turn to watch her flutter over. “Oh, sweetie, you’re home!” 

Your mom seizes you and wraps you in a tight hug. She usually lets you have your space. You’ve never been touchy feely but you don’t protest. It has been a while since you saw her. 

“Um, mom?” You murmur as she releases you. 

She steps back and looks between you and the stranger. No, his name is Bucky. 

“Oh, yes. You two. This is Bucky. Bucky--” 

“We met,” Bucky interrupts. 

“So sorry. I had an iced coffee on the way,” she trills. 

“Bucky?” You raise your brows in your mom’s direction. 

“You remember. I told you I met a guy,” she lowers her voice and nudges you. “This is him.” 

“Oh.” 

You vaguely remember her mentioning it after Christmas. You didn’t think too much about it. You don’t remember it coming up again. She always just said she went out or talked about chores. You wonder if she didn’t tell you on purpose. If maybe she expected you to overreact. 

“We thought we could take you out for lunch as a bit of a homecoming. That train food isn’t very filling.” She smiles. “Well, it was Bucky’s idea. He’s so sweet.” 

“Honey,” he chuckles. “Please, you’re giving me a lot to live up to.” 

“Erm. If you want.” You shrug. 

“Sounds like a plan. I’m starving.” Bucky pulls your bag away and you flinch again. “Ladies, first. Want me to get your other bag?” He offers and you shake your head.  

Your mom moves first and you quickly catch up to her. You wish she’d at least warned you. You’re entirely unprepared for this. She knows you don’t do well with new people but maybe that’s why she didn’t say anything. So you couldn’t come up with an excuse to get out of it. 

The sun beats down and adds to the sheet of sweat across your nape. Bucky looms behind you, his shadow skewing on the pavement, and you search for your mom’s car. You don’t see it. 

She leads you to a dark blue car and you stare at it dumbly. 

“Bucky drove,” your mom explains. The trunk pops as Bucky rolls your bag up. You step back as he lifts it inside. You thank him again as guilt bristles in your chest. 

You follow your mom around the side of the car, waiting for her lead. When she opens the door, you open the back one. When she gets in, you get it. When she clips in her seat belt, you do. Bucky gets in on the driver’s side and drops his keys in the little tray between the cup holders. He jabs the button to turn the engine. 

He doesn’t shift into gear right away. He does up his own seat belt, adjusts his posture, then fiddles with the mirror. You glance up as his eyes dart away in the mirror. Was he looking at you?

You pick at the hem of your sleeves button-up and lean into the door. You really hope you’re not in the way. You have that rotting sensation in your gut. You’ve ruined their day. 

“Alright, everyone buckled in?” He grips the wheel with one hand, the other hooking behind your mother’s seat as he cranes and backs out of the spot. You stare at his thick fingers as you slump down in self-consciousness. You know he’s only checking his rear window but you’re always paranoid of being seen. 

He rolls the car straight and steers between the slanted rows of vehicles. He idles behind the fleet of cabs and weaves his way through the chaos. Your mom sighs and shifts. She’s a less than patient driver. 

“So, we were thinking the new bar and grill, figured you haven’t been around to try it,” your mom explains. “But if you miss Dezi’s, we can go there. Me and Bucky love getting Sunday lunch there. You remember how we used to go?” 

Your lips twitch as you fright a frown. Dezi’s is your place. You and your mom went there since you were in grade school. Knowing she’s been taking him feels like a violation. The suspicion that you’re being replaced unnerves you. You don’t have any right to be mad about it. You’re grown now and your mom’s allowed to live her life. Thing’s change, they already have. 

“New place is fine,” you grumble. 

“Great! Megan recommended it. I’ve been dying to try it.” Your mom is elated. 

She’s never short of enthusiasm but you don’t know the last time she didn’t have a single complaint. If it’s a nice day, she’s disappointed she can’t be at the beach. If she has the day off, she’s upset she has to do the laundry, even if you offer to throw it in with yours. And when she finally gets her food at a restaurant, she laments that she didn’t order the chicken instead of beef. Maybe change is good. 

“Your mom’s a great tour guide. I don’t feel so lost anymore.” Bucky stops at a light and looks at her. “Uh, Lauren?” 

“Straight then left,” she instructs him with a point of her finger. Her nails are done. Not her usual chipped paint on her short square cuticles; she has a full set with a lovely almond shape. 

He follows her directions and continues through the green. You turn your attention out the window. You were only just home for the holidays but everything feels so different. Or maybe you are too.  

There’s nothing ahead of you no, yet everything at the same time. You haven’t found much in your job search. Every job your mom sent you, you applied. You trawled the online boards and even used the student career center for help with your CV. A dozen articles littered your feed deeming the market oversaturated. 

Another disappointment for your mom. You’re sure she won’t fail to mention this one. You exhale and twine your fingers together in your lap. 

“Tired, sweetie?” Your mom asks. 

“Uh, yeah,” you answer. It wouldn’t do any good to share your worries. You still have time to find a job. Eventually, you have to get something. 

“Alright,” Bucky flicks his blinker on and waits to turn. “Here we are.” 

He pulls into the lot of the bar and grill. It’s built to resemble a log cabin and the entire theme has a rustic tint. He slides into a spot and shuts the engine off. In the silence, your stomach rumbles loudly. 

“Hungry?” He chuckles and peeks back over his shoulder. As your mom jostles her purse and untangles her seat belt, he winks. Your blink dumbly and click the button to release yourself. 

“Sure.” Your voice creaks as you pull the door handle. It doesn’t budge. You try again. Then frantically feel around for the lock. 

“Oops.” Bucky turns and hits a switch. The locks thunk back. 

Your mom gets out first and you follow. Bucky catches up and brushes by you as he passes. He beats you both to the front door and opens it for you. You trail your mom and he stays close as he enters behind you. 

“Such a gentleman,” your mom praises and giggles. She sounds bubbly. You can’t remember her sounding like that before. 

“Table for three,” Bucky says to the hostess. 

Again, he lets you go ahead of him. Your mom is ahead of you as the hostess leads you into the dining room. You’re sat at a booth. You’re relieve to have a bench to yourself, facing your mother and Bucky, but she insists on being on the outside in case she needs the bathroom. That leaves you across from him. 

“Drinks.” Bucky intones as he grabs the slender menu. “Cocktails?” 

“What do they have?” Your mom leans on him as she reads over his shoulder. 

“Hmm, interesting. Apple cider’s a bit out of season,” Bucky comments. “Figured we should celebrate. Baby girl is home and graduated.” 

You wince at the reference. Baby girl? He sucks his teeth as he examines the menu then turns it around. He offers it across the table. 

“Think I'll stick to beer,” he says. 

“Go on,” your mom goads. “Get something special, sweetie. You earned it.” 

“Oh, it’s okay, I’ll just have water.” 

“It’s a special day,” she insists.  

“Well, er...” you take the menu and nod. You look down at the listings as your cheeks burn hot. You don’t like to argue, especially when there’s no good reason. 

You try to make sense of it. Blackberry sounds good but you’re not sure what bitters are. You don’t drink. You had one glass of wine at a New Years party with your mom’s friends a few years ago and didn’t really get the appeal. It made your stomach feel swishy. 

There’s a lemonade that sounds okay. You like lemonade. You settle on that and put the menu down. Your mother scoops it up and you apologise. You should’ve asked her if she needed it. 

A server appears and takes your drink orders as she doles out a set of larger menus. You take yours and listen as she recites the specials. You don’t really catch any of it. You’ve always done better with writing than oral instruction. She leaves and you wait for the others to open their menu before you do the same. 

“This is nice,” your mom says. “I’m so happy you two are getting along.” 

You force a smile and Bucky slips his arm around her and squeezes. Your eyes meet again and his cheek dimples beneath his beard. You quickly avert your attention back to the sandwich options.

Getting along? You barely know him. Not to mention, you didn’t expect him. No use in whining about it. He's here and your mother is happy. 

[theartofpixar]

"Joy’s body language is generally pretty broad: her arms always stretching and reaching, and she’s constantly jumping around so as a former 2D animator, drawing her on the movie was quite the delight! Being not *that* extroverted myself, bringing that attitude to life, especially on days when I felt more like Ennui, had some really interesting effects. Have you ever drawn someone yawning and started yawning yourself? That kinda happened to me with drawing Joy. Stepping into her shoes (although she wears none!) was somehow always therapeutic and added a lot of energy and positivity to my days 💛

I am loving the cascade of incredible art pouring out from every department with the release of Inside Out 2! 💙 At one point I was assigned a Sadness action sequence called “Cry Hard” (!) which I’ll share in a future post, so before boarding I spent some time drawing poses and expressions to get a feel for her character. Can we talk about those little slippers. 🥺

Drawing Anger was always somehow satisfying! My Mediterranean roots probably have something to do with it ❤️‍🔥 One thing I loved about boarding sequences with these guys was how the Emotions felt emotions themselves, yet still kept their primary self. When Anger felt joy, it was a fiery happiness; when he felt fear or disgust, his eyebrows would never lie! These sketches are warm-ups from when I was exploring his fiery range of expressions and as I built my library, some of these definitely found their way into my sequences..

When I think of my favorite Emotion to draw, oh man. Disgust 100%. The SASS. Those mouth shapes and the fabulous lashes that just amplify it all. I had so much fun drawing her on Inside Out 2. I don’t wanna spoil the story posting my sequences yet, so these are some warm up sketches from when I was getting familiar with her volumes and expressions. The movie is out TODAY! Go see it in theaters!

And last but not least of the original emotions, Fear! I always thought he was kinda challenging to draw. His design includes a lot of sharp angles and jittery lines to convey his constant tension. His hands are usually close to his body as if to protect himself, and his shoulders always raised. It made me realize it takes a lot of energy to be constantly afraid of something! His eyes are also quite funny; his brows were disconnected, and somehow the back of his head had the shape of eyes too! Here are a few character studies. The poses with him clinging to the rope are taken from one of my sequences." – Alessandra Sorrentino

[sfznyxio]

-ˋˏ I CHOOSE YOU! ˎˊ

SYNOPSIS. new year, new you, new school. you’re determined to be the greatest trainer in history, and it starts at a pokemon academy. you hope to finish your studies free of drama, if you can ignore the noise of many battles within the student body to see who will come on top.

CHARACTERS. sakura haruka, suo hayato, nirei akihiko, umemiya hajime, hiragi toma, tsubakino tasuku, kaji ren, tomiyama choji, togame jo

CONTENT. gn!reader. pokemon au. comedy, fluff. 0.8k wc. inspired by pokemon scarlet and violet and its teal mask dlc. everyone goes to legit school here, whoa. reader sometimes ditches class to explore the wild. electrocution, one bad pun intended (kaji). they/them pronouns for tsubaki.

VERA. yelling with @stunie about pokemon was really fun so why not combine the best of both worlds. for zevie, my fellow pokemon (mystery dungeon) enthusiast!

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SAKURA HARUKA

sakura wants to be the best in the world through unconventional means, to battle the strongest right away. you’ve seen how he fought off a group of students who were ridiculing you earlier, but there’s no way someone could become a trainer with punches and kicks and without a pokemon. by chance, a sprigatito steals the pastry he was holding to eat and sends him on a wild goose chase. those two are a lovely pair, when it’s time for it to stop eating his food and he stops yelling at it for being a “brat”.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. SUO HAYATO

if you need a teacher for your team on how to behave on the battlefield, suo is at the yard meditating with his mienfoo. it’s impressive how he’s by your stress filling their air like smokescreen. your pokemon partner suddenly stops listening to your commands, and now your wallet is dry. he says it's the rebellious teen phase, something he can easily deal with. whatever he did to make your pokemon shudder when he calls on it for lessons with mienfoo as his assistant, you dare not to pry.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. NIREI AKIHIKO

midterm season is around the corner, what you dread the most this year. luckily you have nirei, a walking encyclopedia that is very convenient to have as a study buddy and useful to a certain someone who skips classes to explore the wild. his abra will teleport you back on campus whenever you try to ditch. the one day you venture farther, a very strong pokemon has you running for your life. abra has the ability to sense danger so you manage to return safely, but not safe from his disappointment. 

𝄞༉‧₊˚. UMEMIYA HAJIME

major concerns of newbies are what type of supplies to stock up on and how to train pokemon teams efficiently. your problem is money, due to spending too much and losing too much against people. umemiya is an expert in said concerns, but his togekiss handles his budget to curb his spending impulses. for someone who advertised himself as dependable, you definitely can’t depend on him for monetary matters. even togekiss judges him for buying fake plants for his fake garden. 

𝄞༉‧₊˚. HIRAGI TOMA

the academy is a scary place. there are strong and promising trainers in the making, and a tournament is a great start to see what they’re worth. competition drives everyone nuts, tailing down anyone such as yourself in their line of sight to battle. hiragi shoos them away, swearing he’ll be like his annihilape if they keep this up. he mistakes you as one with the crowd because you’re staring at him for so long, his pokemon readies its rage fist to send you flying, stressing him out even more.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TSUBAKINO TASUKU

as the end of the school term draws near, students become anxious. fear not, tsubaki knows how to turn the doom and gloom around - throwing a party. their checklist becomes so long they need a helping hand. their gardevoir chooses you through its future sight, determining that you’re good luck. while shopping with your upperclassman, there’s an ongoing sale for clothes they’ve been waiting for since forever. they’re so excited that they drag you along and practically buy out the whole boutique.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. KAJI REN

the stock of candies at the campus store is somehow almost empty every time you check it out. a salesclerk then tells you that they never heard of a luxio with a sweet tooth. the pokemon belongs to a student who wears headphones and a lollipop in his mouth, kaji. you and your partner look at each other with the same plan: ditch class to buy out the entire candy section before those two can. you and him grab a candy bag in sync, but luxio electrocutes you as he and your pokemon stare in shock.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TOMIYAMA CHOJI

photography in the wilderness for a project is, in reality, easier said than done. your pictures come out blurry as many wild pokemon have tried to break your phone. just as things can’t get any worse, you get whacked by an ambipom from its double hit. your hands feel light, and you look at it with your device. its trainer tomiyama proposes to retake your photos as compensation. but instead of you in there, the entire gallery is full of his selfies. seems like this project will take forever to finish.

𝄞༉‧₊˚. TOGAME JO

you can’t afford to be late for school… again. rushing to campus on your bike, you almost crash into a dozing snorlax that is blocking your usual route. you and your pokemon have done what you can to wake it up, and it turns into a stream of light which went inside a pokeball belonging to an upperclassman. togame was napping at the side of the road, and now he is late going to school like you are. as he’s about to ask you for a ride, you completely vanish, pedaling furiously like your life depends on it.

[two-stars]

fuck it. I’m analyzing Dr Ratio’s eidolons.

I interpret eidolons as different facets of a persons character, tying back into their journey in life. (Also this shit loooong so I’m putting it under cut)

1. Pride Comes Before a Fall: this phrase originates from the Bible (proverbs 16:18), which talk of how the sin of pride will eventually lead to destruction, and telling one to practice humility*. To me, this phrase refers possibly to Ratio’s desire to be noticed by Nous. His pride originating from his previous achievements, lauded and touted as a prodigy from a young age (this is, of course, speculation because MIHOYO WONT GIVE ME RATIO LOOREEE). Through this pride, we can obviously see what happens next: he is never noticed by Nous, this is his fall. Either in the eyes of others, or himself (as it is never outright stated that Ratio sought the gaze of Nous, but I subscribe heavily to this line of thinking, due to his voiceline when you max level him: “If this day I have not gained the recognition of Nous, it stands to reason I never will at any point in the future”).

2. The Divine is In the Details: This is an idiom, although it’s more commonly said as “God is in the details”. This phrase is meant to emphasize the importance of the smaller, overlooked details which make up the whole. This is used most often in art and architecture, but can be applied to many other things. I connect this to Ratio’s meticulous nature as a scholar and researcher, but I also draw lines to his 1st eidolon. After Ratio is rejected by the higher powers, he turns instead to the “insignificant” common people, realizing their importance— we know that Ratio values all life, even one’s “marked by failure”, which others may overlook. Real divinity is not the God, but rather the beauty of humanity’s falls and successes.

3. Know Thyself: This was a proverb written upon the temple of Apollo, in Delphi, Ancient Greece. This has many meanings, from knowing your limits (either as one’s place in the universe, or your own mortality), to the broader interpretation by Plato as knowing your soul, and a a common theme of through studying the self could one know the universe. All of these relate heavily to Ratio, considering his tenets of self-improvement. He also references in his line when he finds an enemy target, “You learn to know yourself before your enemy.” (Which is ALSO a quote from Sun Tzu’s The Art of War.) I think this one is pretty self explanatory as a continuation to the previous Eidolons, after his rejection, he seeks to reevaluate (relearn) himself and his stance in life.

4. Ignorance Is Blight: This represents Ratio’s goal to eradicate ignorance and stupidity across the universe, but it is also a inverse on the popular idiom “ignorance is bliss”. This idiom is basically everything Ratio stands against, he will know and say the truth unfiltered, even if it is uncomfortable. I also see this as Ratio finally discovering his calling as a teacher.

5. Sic Itur Ad Astra*: Written in the Aeneid, meaning “thus one journeys to the stars”. It has merged over time with another phrase in the Aeneid, “opta ardua pennis astra sequi” (meaning: desire to pursue the difficult-to-reach stars) becoming the common encouragement, “Reach for the stars.” We know Ratio never settles for doing anything in halves, and as a teacher, he constantly pushes others and himself to reach for high goals. Although his methods can be harsh, it is ultimately through strife (“— it is only in moments on solitude and despair, when help is absent, that fools grasp how to pick themselves up.”), that he seeks to unlock the potential of every person. This is most obviously seen in the Trailblazer Continuance quest: Crown of Mundane and Divine where he leverages the situation to try and topple the blind worship of the Genius Society on the space station.

6. Vincit Omnia Veritas: Meaning: Truth conquers all things. Surface level, this one is pretty straightforward too, Ratio values truth highly, and to him, it is the antithesis to ignorance, and therefore knowledge. As his Ultimate voiceline goes, he says, “Knowledge is the measure of all things. It reveals truth, and falsehood.” What I want to focus on however, is his pose in the eidolon. It is the exact same pose as Michelangelo’s David statue. This depiction is of David before his famous battle with Goliath. In this eidolon, Ratio is the figure David, who was also known as a symbol of the protection of civil liberties. And in by interpretation, Goliath is the stupidity he wants to eradicate. Just as truth conquers all things, Veritas will conquer all ignorance.

*— I also think this is why he consistently downplays himself and avoids the spotlight (calling himself a supporting character).

*— fun fact, this phrase is also used as the motto of Cambridge University, very fitting.

[azen13]

Hallooo!!

can I request a Sunday and aventurine (separate) x reader where reader has insomnia and cannot fall asleep? It’s alright if you just write for one character, whatever is most comfy for you <3 take your time and get some rest !!

Sleep, Sweet Nightingale

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A/N: Thank you so much for the ask! This was really fun to write :D I'll likely post Aventurine's in a week or two, so stay tuned for that! Thank you for your kind words <3

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Description: Sunday x Avgin!Reader | With Sunday at a meeting discussing future plans for Penacony, you find yourself struggling not only with falling asleep, but also with memories from the past. Luckily, your lover is always here to help you.

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CW: Insomnia, Dissociation, Mentions of Imprisonment, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Emotional Flashback

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Nested in soft blankets, sleep should come easy to you. You had hoped it would soothe your troubled mind, washing all of your dark, tainted thoughts away like soapy water cutting through grime; instead, you toss and turn in the tangled sheets, a sheen of sweat shining on your skin in the dim, warm lights of your apartment.

Your inability to sleep is also compounded by the fact that you’re entirely alone. Sunday is busy in a meeting with the Family–discussing a potential renovation to Oti Mall to make it more navigable–leaving an empty space on the other side of the bed. You miss your lover’s sweet, feather-light touches and chaste kisses. More than that, you miss feeling protected. The world has scraped your heart clean of any innocence, leaving you sensitive to all the cruelties of the world–cruelties that seem to hang above your head like a cloud of daggers, waiting to fall.

Signaled by the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner of the room, minutes pass by. You make a game of watching as the long hand of the clock slowly creeps past the short hand at around 2:30 a.m, and continues to race around the chapter ring like a runner in a marathon. Eventually it passes the finish line, the clock ringing in quiet celebration as a new race begins. 

After another minute or two, you finally decide to push the plush sheets off your body and get out of bed. Sunday had recently bought you some medication to help with your sleeping problems, but he had kept them hidden away somewhere. The lack of trust stung, but you believed him when he said he was doing it out of worry for your wellbeing. You could look for it, but knowing Sunday and his penchant for being meticulous, you’d only bring yourself into a fit of frustration, making your mind more dysfunctional than it already feels.

Instead, you decide to wander the apartment aimlessly, a blanket wrapped around your body that billows behind you. From the bedroom to the parlor, the kitchen to the study, you search for something to pass the time, but find yourself rejecting any potential forms of entertainment. You can hardly fathom reading a book with how tired your eyes are, and the TV is too loud–even at the lowest volume.

So, you settle down on a sofa in the parlor and try to block out the world by wrapping yourself up in your blanket. For a second, you try to close your eyes, but open them in an instant. 

The overhead light feels less warm now, washing the room out with fluorescence. You can feel your heart beginning to leak, waves of emotions tossing it to and fro. Impressions of words spoken to you years ago press against your skin–not heard, but felt. No tears spring from your eyes–a habit built from near-daily torment, of knowing that your captors would only revel in the sight of your sadness and attempt to draw more of it out. Instead, your hands grip against the blanket. The rhythm they take up isn’t a thought so much as a motion, letting you escape the sinking ship of your soul. Clench, unclench, clench.

Then you hear the lock of the apartment door click. As though electrified, your body freezes from head to toe. 

“My dove? Where. . .you?” 

“Dearest?”

You hardly register Sunday moving out of the corner of your eye and taking a seat in a chair a few feet away from the sofa. After a moment, your lips open, words trickling out. They are uttered on their own accord–not a thought, but a motion, same as your hands.

The look on Sunday’s face softens. His words move in and out of focus as he begins to speak again.

“. . .you’re dissociating, my. . . Let me help . . . you name five . . . you see?”

Again, as if compelled by some supernatural force, you begin to speak again. It’s as though you’re speaking a foreign language you never learned.

“Wonderful. . . amazing. How about. . . things you. . . touch?”

“Now try to. . . three things. . .can hear?

Halfway through naming two things you can smell, the world sharpens, like shifting a camera’s focus. You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, aware of how tense your body is.

“Are you back in the present with me now, my sweet?” Sunday asks quietly. His tender voice is almost a whisper, aware of how sensitive you might be to loud noises right now. 

You nod weakly, feeling beginning to return to your body, a shuddering breath filling your lungs. “I think so.” It feels true. As if in confirmation, your heart beats out a steady ‘Yes’.

“I’m glad.” Sunday folds his hands in his lap, eyes reading between the lines of your face. “It’s getting late. Would you like me to help you to bed?”

“Yes please.”

Slowly, Sunday stands. He extends a hand out, not as a demand, but an offer. A choice. It’s an easy one that you decide to take, clasping it like a lifeline as he guides you back to the bedroom. Humming gently, he fluffs up the comforter and the pillows, doing his best to maximize your comfort. 

“If you’d like, I can sleep in the guest bedroom-” “Stay.”

Your response is a plea, one Sunday is happy to comply with. Quietly, you watch as he begins to get ready for bed, his routine methodical and precise. Through it all, he keeps a quiet vigil over you, even as he brushes his teeth and preens his feathers. After it’s all said and done, your lover quietly crawls into bed, eyes gazing gently at you. “If you need anything, let me know,” he says quietly. In response, you gently grab one of his hands, and move it over your shoulder, before grabbing the other. Sunday allows you to position his arms how you wish, only adjusting after you finish. “May your dreams be sweet, my dove,” Sunday whispers, voice reverent like a prayer, as you begin to drift off into a soothing sleep.

[mumuscae]

ARTW: EXTRATERRESTRIAL! SPICA

Sorry to the people who voted for vega to be next in the server but hes not the birthday boy and this was the perfect chance to post spica 💔

I am so sorry for the slow updates on this im a busy person with a job and 300 hobbies unfortunately 💔 UPDATES WONT BE SO SLOW ANYMORE I SWEAR IT WONT TAKE MONTHS 😭😭😭😭 very sorry

Disclaimer! A lot of this is my own personal tastes and how I, Mimi Mumuscae, would write and design these characters. If you do not like it, you do not have to! That is fine if you like the canon and original versions! I like them too! This is a completely self indulgent project.

More info below! :3

Design changes made:

Coat change! Gave him a long coat because I want him to stand out as the leader of the guide committee with a distinct silhouette, and it makes him look like a more imposing authority figure.

The boots. Because i can. I like drawing them. Sorry to his horse girl boots he had before but he can have those for a diff outfit <3

Longer hair!! Bro is 200+ years old let him have super long hair

Nothing else really!! His canon design already got the point of his character across otherwise. I did tuck his hair behind his ear but thats just to make it easier for me to draw since i suck 💔

Other character changes/tidbits!!

Spica!! Leader (or, one of the leaders..) of the Guide Committee!

The Guide Committee is the middle management between the Great Sorcerers, and the average sorcerers. (including those outside of Contell, much to their dismay.) They are basically the errand boys for the Great Sorcerers, and also their PR team. They have authority on paper, but none of that is respected or acknowledged by majority of Sorcerers.

Spica is in simple terms, Schedars personal assistant.

For ET Spica, acknowledgement from his superiors is a motivating factor for him in everything he does as a sorcerer. Of course he has other goals and ambitions, but feeling important and how he’s percieved by authority figures matters very much to him due to reasons that ill delve into later

However he’s very average in the magic department, so he can’t receive acknowledgment from anyone in that area. So instead he builds his character around being a hard worker, and a good worker. He’s very good at immediately switching from “stern boss” to the committee, to “good employee” to his superiors, as well as overall people pleasing attitudes when he must. He’d do great in customer service!!

He’s also managed to get himself in the position of Fili Pfeper’s Contell Representative, and is seeking out to take position of the head of the clan in place of Regulus. (Who continues to refuse him)

Onto his magic :D

He specializes in Traditional Magic, which is the form of magic that was widely used prior to the Great Disaster. It’s considered the fundamentals of magic, the medium all future spells were built upon. It focuses on drawn out sigils, rituals, and incantations, that have long been lost amongst modern sorcerers. The current climate of magic was caused by the revolution of magic created after Polaris’ studies were publicized. Spica would claim his reasonings for using it are for a deeper understanding of magic…

And thats all!! I want him to have more character motivation… and overall interest..??? Hes very bland unfortunately. Most of his potential was cut short by the abrupt ending sorrytaco gave to him 😔 i love spica a lot. I have more for him. But its for later.. when i get to it… which i will…

Other characters completed: POLLUX

[onelittleornotthing]

New Years gifts! >:3

@rachlaw7 good luck next year and in the new fandom, thank you for everything! Have a good rest and future creative success!

@skythevirus Good luck in the new year and in creating your own great projects! Your cosplay with your friend was amazing!

@golubichkalive Good luck in the new year and in the development of your AUs and studies! I still remember the day when you offered the very first trade in my life X') it was sweet.

@lunar-dal Good luck next year and damn, we need to know more about the Noir Tower! You are great :D And your AUs too!

@alice-the-demon Good luck next year, you are a great creator! Your AUs and Arts are beautiful! I am very sorry if I have ever caused any inconvenience :"0

@woobab , @misdreavusplush , @oddpizza Good luck next year to the three of you! Be happy with Peppino and love him with every fiber of your being ;) It's interesting to watch you

@pizzabox-box Good luck next year! Your comics are great, and it's very interesting to watch Peppi-no also his relationship with the rest of the characters. Keep up the good work if it gives you pleasure :3

@skitswap Good luck next year, I hope 2024 was filled with interesting things for you. Creative success and excellent studies!

@bigboybird Good luck next year and, dude, take care of yourself. You've done so much for all of us, always coming up with something interesting! I would like to get to know you better :3

@gggiiidd Good luck in the new year and have a great study! You can definitely handle it. And good creative success, I hope you will not lose interest in drawing. You are a charming creator.

@alextydaisuda123 and @creat0rstudi0 Good luck in the new year to you two and be happy :D You are very inspiring and surprise me every time. When I first came to Tumblr, I did not expect that Pizza Tower AUs existed, then I only discovered you.

@furiouspatience Good luck next year and creative success! I've seen you before Tumblr (in Vk), and your style is amazing and charming. And the sketches with Pizzahead and Fake Peppino are cute, as well as other art from other fandoms. You are one of my inspirations :3

@bvadmin and @sometiredfreak Happy New Year to you! Good luck to you two in developing your AUs! @/bvadmin your Brunoverse is impressive <:)) And @/sometiredfreak's freak show AU is scary. Let's punch Pizzaface in the face. -

@technically-a-kiwi Good luck in the new year! Your cosmic AU and simple sketches with Pizza Tower characters are delightfully cute!!! I'm amazed at your style. (I don't understand why tumblr doesn't want me to see your sketches>:( damn). Creative success and mood :3

@neocrash1101 Good luck in the new year! We are looking forward to more content on 'Day with P and FP' and 'Pizza Cradles'. Your style is very cute and catchy:3

@cutechan555 Good luck in the new year and happiness! Your arts is quite atmospheric. And we are also looking forward to something interesting in the new AU)

(Warn you, a lot of text and thanks. If you're not interested, don't read it!)

I want to say thank you to everyone who inspired me from the very beginning. I am very happy that I was able to get into such an interesting and, most importantly, friendly fandom. Yes, there are exceptions, but exceptions should not affect the opinion of the fandom itself. When I was still watching from the outside, I was very inspired by the works of the authors of @/weird0nerdo, @/gronkelart and @/ali-borsch, @/jellazticious, @/bob-mirum, @/furiouspatience and comics by @/gabaobab and @/squid2corn, as well as my love for Mr. Stick was awakened by the arts of garlicbradman64 (i remember they from Twitter/X, which I don't have access to-). Lots of russian authors Daria Cheesman(Twitter), @/klyoma2, and @/whatisnickname-reincarnated

I really hope you guys are doing well and the new year will bring you new experiences.

I met some very nice people in this fandom, @/rachlaw7 and @/cotton-mix, @/rediconsss and @/golubichkalive, @/bogboybird and @/weird0nerdo. I love them very much, they are very nice people!

I am very happy to be in Pizza Tower Ask (Vk) , OC/Canon Ask (Vk) . I really hope this happiness will be long-lasting and I will not have to part with this miracle.

I think the dream of being a part of something big has finally come true. It's a pity that sometimes it's not possible to participate or arrange something because of problems, but I'm glad that I'm in a comfortable environment for myself. I hope, I'm not causing you any problems.

I love you

[daredevils-stuffed]

A Girl Can Dream

Authors Note: Guess I’m back… totally not because I’ve been rewatching daredevil like it’s a comfort show.

Characters: Matt Murdock x Reader

Overview: You meet Matt in a club, and discover when it’s too late that he’s your brother’s best friend. Foggy would not approve. But can Matt resist temptation.

Warnings: no warnings as of now. Maybe a few in the future.

Also available to read on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/63147244/chapters/161719609

Part 1

College was the chance for you to try new things, experience all that life had to offer. Going out to clubs was relatively new to you, but you accepted every invite that was offered because being at Columbia meant more than just studying. So, it’s Friday night, and you want to let your hair down after a long and stressful week. You and your friends have been chasing to find the right vibes from bar to bar. The place you’re currently in has loud upbeat music, the type you can’t resist dancing too. 

 

You stand off on the sidelines of the dance floor cradling your drink, taking a breather. Your friends love being the centre of attention and are dance battling each other. You laugh aloud as they spin themselves around to create more room. 

 

“They seem to be having fun, why aren’t you out there with them.” You peer up to see a handsome man with thick, choppy hair, and tinted glasses perched on his nose. It takes you a minute to realise he is talking to you, sipping at your drink you glance back at them. 

 

“I’m not really one to draw attention to myself. Plus, I haven’t got anyone to dance with”. You chuckle, and he snorts. The alcohol is making you tingly and brave, so you take a good look at the man next to you. His clothes  aren’t too fancy, just casual jeans and a shirt that fitted perfectly around sculpted arms. He’s leaning his elbow on a white stick and that’s when it clicks. He’s blind. 

 

“I couldn’t agree more. But I would like to dance at least once tonight with someone.” He fiddles with the bottle in his hand, not really looking in your direction. 

 

You can tell he is either nervous or uncomfortable, his cheeks are flushed red under the strobe lights. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you lean into his ear. Lips lightly brushing it as you speak. “Well, I definitely would like your company”. You had already been to three bars previously, so your tipsy state gives you the confidence to gently grab his hand and guide him towards the centre of the dance floor. 

 

Standing there taking in his features you realise that he is quite good looking. A soft smile encapsulates his face as you take his hand and place it on your waist, slowly swaying in time with the music. Your arms finding a way around his neck, your bodies in sync. You’re pulled closer to him, close enough to smell his heavenly cologne. 

 

His hands start to travel around your body, down towards your ass. He plays with the hem of your dress, and you let him, knowing he can’t tell what you’re wearing. You knew it was kinda short when you put it on, but now you’re glad you did as his fingertips slowly trail over your thigh causing goosebumps to rise and shivers to go through you. You’re sure that your breathing has deepened and your eyes close as you try to focus on the feeling, hands playing with the hair at his nape. 

 

You’ve moved closer again now. At some point your spun around so your back is against him. Too lost in the music and the feeling of him against you to care what was going on around you. You can feel him hard against your ass, and you grind down a little to get a better feel. You are just as turned on, letting out a little hum of approval. His hands spread over your stomach, enclosing you into him. His lips finding that perfect place on your neck and all air is sucked out of you. This is perfect, this moment feels cosmic, something that could go on forever. 

 

But it doesn’t. 

 

Your friends interrupt you to say that they were leaving for the next bar. You look up at your dance partner as he drops his hands from your hips, taking a step back. “No wait.” You hurriedly shout, grabbing his wrist. You spin around to look back at your friends. “Sorry guys, I think I’m going to stay here. I’m enjoying myself.” A little smirk on your face tells your friends all that they need to know. They grin back at you and eye up the man behind you. His jaw ticks with amusement but he says nothing. You hug them goodbye and promise to text when you’re home safe, but you know that you can’t promise that would be tonight. 

 

You grin up at your company for the evening. “Shall we go get another drink before we carry on.” You grab his hand and lead the way to the bar and order yourself and him a drink. He stays close to you, playing once again with the hem of your dress, drawing shapes into your inner thigh. You lean into him after taking a sip of your new drink. “We should go back to yours after this,” you whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

 

“Mmm. We definitely should. I have some ideas as to what we can get up to sweetheart.” His hand goes further in between your thighs, you clamp his hand before he can get any deeper and see how wet you are. Your eyes look up in shock and he just chuckles. “I just need to wait for my friend to arrive so I can tell him I’m leaving with you. I might also want him to see you, just so he knows you are real”. You shake your head and lean your forehead against his shoulder. 

 

“Sweetheart? Hmm okay.” He nudges your hair with his nose, taking in your coconut scent shampoo. His teeth nip at your neck, encouraging your breaths to come out as sighs. “I should probably know your name if I’m going to be coming home with you”

 

“I’m Matt.” He says and you look up at him in shock. Pushing away from him, his fingers dig into your hips, eyebrows knitted together out of confusion

 

“Oh my god, you’re that Matt” you breathe just as you hear Foggy’s voice. 

 

“Hey! I see you two have met. Saves me introducing you both.” You groan internally turning to face him. In a college campus this large, the one hot boy that is attracted to you happens to be your brother’s best friend. Matts hands instantly drop from you, any remnants of his touch completely vanishing. 

 

“Foggy.” You and Matt say, his with a little more surprise and a lot less anger than yours. he leans in to kiss you on the cheek and taps Matt on the back before ordering himself a beer. He starts talking about his day, and how he wasn’t even sure if he was going to make it tonight. You note that Matts lips turn down, and you think of your lost future where you could be experiencing Matts body in all its glory, feeling his touch in all the right places. 

 

“Just so we are clear Matt, no you cannot touch my sister’s face okay. She is off limits.” Matt clears his throat and sits up straighter. You could almost stroke the awkwardness between you now, the sexual tension still ripe and all that more unbearable. 

 

“He’s being doing a little more than that” you murmur as you turn to grab your drink, hating yourself for ditching your friends for Foggy’s best friend. Why did it you use your logic, why didn’t you see that the blind man in your college campus bar might be the same person who also lives in your brother’s dormitory. 

 

Matt coughs and pinches your side. Your eyes land on his face in shock, but his is neutral. There is no way he heard you say that. “Come on man, you know I wouldn’t do that to your sister. We were just talking about what me and you are getting up to tonight.”

 

“You are more than welcome to join us sis!” Foggy says. Disappointment etches your features, as well as Matts. You feel as if a massive bucket of icy water has just been tipped all over you. Yet the burning heat between your legs is still there. 

 

“You know what, I think I will.” You did not really have much of a choice. Realising if you leave them now, your night will have to end there. 

 

“Great, that way I can keep an eye on you.” Foggy nudges you to get between you and Matt. It was then you realised that nothing could ever happen between you and Matt. Even if you wanted his hands and lips all over you, there was no way Matt would break Foggy’s trust. 

 

“Yeah” Matt agreed. “We don’t want you going off with any strange men, you don’t know who could be out there.” You glare at him and polish off your drink. It’s going to be a long night for you. 

 

“Shots?” Because that is the only thing that is going to get you through this, and you really don’t want this night to be memorable. 

 

The night goes on. You’ve really passed the point of tipsy. You’ve had no further interaction with Matt, but you’ve also had no other interaction with men in general. They seem to stay away from you when there are two men leering behind you as you dance. 

 

“Hey Matt! Did I ever tell you about the time I found my sister in a pile of oranges” Foggy shouts over the music. You’ve been dancing for the best part of an hour, your back turned so you don’t have to keep up with any of the conversations. You’ve heard Foggy tell this story over and over. You lived it, you were there. Sticky and uncomfortable and 5 years old. Matt glances over at you and chuckles as Foggy continues the story. You cringe slightly, cheeks flushing as you try to drown of the embarrassment. “And that’s how she got the nickname Clementine”

 

“Clementine? Really?” Matt smirks. Foggy, completely forgetting he was in the middle of a conversation, becomes distracted trying to hit on the girl next to him. Matt, using your shoulder to steady himself, takes this opportunity to press his lips to your ear. “I think I prefer sweetheart myself.”  You roll your eyes, elbowing Matt in the stomach. “I think you like it when I call you sweetheart.” 

 

If your heart rate was anything to go by or the fact that your stomach is doing summersaults, then yes maybe you did like Matts pet name for you. Matt’s fingers brush along your next, down towards your collarbone and sweeps back up again. Your breaths coming out in signs until it hitches. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and slowly moves away. 

 

“I think it is time for us to go home now.” You check the time on your phone, quarter to two in the morning. Definitely time for you to go home, nothing good can happen from here. You turn to Foggy to see if he agrees but he is tongue deep in a girl you’ve never seen before. He motions you away with his hand, not once breaking concentration. 

 

“I’ll walk you home” Matt says quietly. Gathering his stick and setting down his beer. 

 

“Oh no it’s okay. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.” 

 

“I have no doubt about that. But just for my peace of mind, what kind of friend would I be if I let Foggy’s sister walk home on her own” his voice almost comes across teasing. 

 

You huff, unable to find a reason not to let him join you. “Fine. Let’s go.” 

 

You’ve run ahead of Matt, squealing at the frigid air hitting you. You watch as your breath floats away from you, you love how quiet everything is.  He chuckles and calls out for you to be careful before jogging up to meet you. You take Matt’s arm, walking the long quiet path back to your dormitory with slow unstable steps. The night air has hit you and made the alcohol take an effect. “I say what a splendid evening” a fancy British accent causes Matt to study you. Giggling to yourself with amusement, Matt seems to lose concentration and almost trips over his feet causing you to laugh harder. 

 

Keeping up with the accent Matt calls out “Oh Clementine darling you are going to wrong way” pulling you back with an outstretched arm when you go to round the wrong corner. He spins you around and pulls you in close. You share a hearty laugh, which warms your insides. 

 

“Oh, silly me! I need a strong man to carry me home” you shrill just as you jump on Matts back. With a humph Matt adjusts you on his back, stick still in hand, he continues the walk back home. You have no concept of time at this point and the world around you starts to spin, mostly because of how amazing Matt smells. You breathe in deep trying to inhale as much of it as you can, all while committing it to memory. 

 

“Thank you, good sir. I much appreciate your efforts in getting me home. I shall bid you a good night” you’re not really sure why you’ve kept up the accent, and it falls off towards the end. You just stand there staring up at Matt, his grip on your waist firm. You push his hair off his forehead and slowly graze your fingers along his cheekbone. 

 

“Let me see your eyes,” you whisper, you were curious what colour they were, and it bugged you not knowing what they looked like. You knew about Matts accident through Foggy, but you didn’t know much more about Matt than that. “Mmmh, you’re so pretty. Do you know that?”

 

He doesn’t say anything for a minute, he stills under your touch, contemplating your words as his eyes sightlessly roam your face. “I don’t think you’re meant to call boys pretty but thank you”. Matt slowly reaches for your hand as if trying not to startle you. Bringing it to his mouth, he gently places a kiss on the inside of your wrist. Your entire body envelopes in flames, maybe the night will end well after all. 

 

He goes to take a step back, creating space between you as if his actions were an unspoken goodbye. But you’re not ready yet, and pull him in close by his shoulders, lips almost in reach. His head pulls back quickly, not expecting your moves. A gentle smile is followed by the words “we shouldn’t.”

 

Before you know what is happening Matt is stalking off down the path head low. 

 

You groan up to the sky, not quite sure where you stand with Matt. But one thing you’re certain about - Matt is a tease and will likely never touch you again

[the-bitter-ocean]

In Cycles and Cessation Official Masterpost

Hi everyone! I realized that I hadn’t made any masterposts for my aus and I figured it would be good to do that now to help with organization.

This will have any art, writing, music and questions answered that I’ve made for the au as well. There’s also a separate master post that has all of the fanworks that people have made for ICAC which you can find here. Both of these lists will be updated every so often with more work as time moves on. You can find any work I make for this Au by looking in the #in cycles and cessation tag on tumblr! All of the works will be under the cut.

SYNOPSIS: In Cycles and Cessation aka (ICAC) is an au that follows the plot of the hit indie game In stars and time, but Mirabelle is the one who’s looping through time instead of Siffrin. This au is basically a character study of Mirabelle, mainly because I wanted to see how she changes in the timeloop. (FULL GAME SPOILERS + A6SE/ “2HATS” & SASASAP SPOILERS APPLY TO THIS AU) Also for clarification for the future posts instead of calling each individual section “ACTS” it will be called “ARCS”.

(ASKS)

What was Mirabelle’s first loop like? ( ARC 1 SPOILERS)

How does Mirabelle feel about the Change God? ( ARC 3/4 SPOILERS )

How did the conversation at the Clocktower go in Act 5? (ARC 5 SPOILERS)

How does Siffrin feel about what Mirabelle said to him in Act 5 during post game scenarios? Is he okay? (ARC 5/ ARC 6 SPOILERS)

What’s Mirabelle’s relationship like with Euphrasie? (FULL GAME SPOILERS)

(ART)

Good Morning, Siffrin! (ARC 1 SPOILERS)

This Is The Happiest I Can Remember Being, Mira! (ARC 1 SPOILERS)

The Happiest He Can Remember Being // Rewind Hangout (ARC 1 + ARC 3/4 SPOILERS) (finished lineart/ colors by @/tealgoat)

An Eye For An Eye (ARC 3 SPOILERS)

You Can’t Change Your Expression Fast Enough (ARC 3 SPOILERS) (finished lineart/ colors by @/tealgoat)

I Have A Question.. (ARC 3/4 SPOILERS)

{Just Attack. } (ARC 4 SPOILERS)

In Cycles & Cessation Loading Screen + Misc Concept Doodles (ARC 4/5 SPOILERS)

First Initial Concept Drawing of Rewind (A6SE SPOILERS)

Updated/ Revamped Concept Drawing of Rewind (A6SE SPOILERS)

Updated Full Reference Sheet of Rewind (A6SE + SASASAP SPOILERS)

Overture/Beginning/Prelude/Foreward (A6SE + SASASAP SPOILERS)

Overture (finished lineart/ colors by @/tealgoat ) (A6SE SPOILERS)

(WRITING)

Rewind’s True Identity (ARC 3/4 + A6SE SPOILERS)

One Bow Ending (ARC 6 SPOILERS)

The Moon Will Sing (A6SE + SASASAP SPOILERS)

(MISCELLANEOUS/ CROSSOVER AUS)

Mirabelle Childhood HCS ( it’s canon to the au yipee) ( FULL GAME SPOILERS)

Chrono-Crisis Countdown!

The Forsaken Savior, The Ghost Writer & The Universe’s Cosmic Joke (A6SE SPOILERS)

Mirabelle First Arriving To The Timeloop Support Group (ARC 6 SPOILERS)

[sarcasticscribbles]

I love asking about your research and my favorite styles of art are the ones that have tons of details (one of the reason why I love JJBA so much) and I realized I never properly asked so:

This is a blank space for you to talk about all the little details of your Gerry arts (plural if not specifically the "Mama" one) and if you have talked about it in detail already (I think you did but I don't remember?) then blank cheque to talk about any and all designs of yours that you want

Aren't you sweet (lol) I think I covered most of Gerry in this post, but to expand on my thought process

In short, my design for Gerry evolves from resembling his mom to resembling his dad, with an added bonus of a ftm headcanon for Gerry. As a child, he looked a lot like Mary, with ginger hair and freckles. As an adult, he dyes his hair black like Eric's and covers his freckles with makeup, but he still highlights a beauty mark that Eric also had. Additionally, he carries his dad's jewellery and coat. Gerry becomes his own person, while still being influenced by Mary and seeking a connection to his father. (bonus for the ancient unreable script on Mary I usually just write out Swedish songs: so far we have Flickan och Kråkan by Mikael Wiehe (Girl and the Crow, a song about seeking hope in a hopeless world/ watching a little child running with a bird that's about to die trying to save it. And second song is Helan Går which is a snapsvisa (drinking song)

I do trad goth for him, a little retro inspired, and I mainly reference Siouxsie Sioux for the makeup. The fashion is very basic and mostly taken by the big coat. I image maybe an old band tee underneath: Grifter's Bone probably lol

Covering one of his eyes with his bang is kind of a silly artist joke, since it's a classic to avoid drawing the second eye + emo kid thing to do. It also puts more emphasis on his visible eye, which is very fitting for an eye aligned character. I mentioned it before, but I really like giving him wavy hair, to kind of stick out from the general goth scene with straightened hair, but also to make him resemble his dad more.

Little lamb plush from the Family Business animatic to show his past innocent and sacrificial storyline (and the lamb in also missing an eye, like he will cover one in the future to draw further parallels)

When I do animatic, I rarely get to add details in designs, so I really enjoy making these character studies to find references to incorporate in designs. Avatars and special characters are a gold mind for this and whenever I find a parallel to something historial/ mythical, or random I can rarely let it go until I've delved into it fully.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Locked Out of Heaven 9

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, power imbalance, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your father invites a work friend to the neighbourhood barbecue.

Characters: Nick Fowler (Dad’s friend trope)

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Abruptly, you still your hand. You close your eyes and temper out a breath through your nose. Your insides twist around the vibrating toy as it sends ripples through your muscles.

You shudder and bite your lip as it stops. You blink between the lines of the notebook and the columns of text in the textbook. You haven't got much done in the last hour.

"Got a lab review coming up." Your dad strides in behind you.

You nearly yelp. You swallow down the surprise and clench. You nod as you make yourself copy the words without truly understanding them.

"Mid-semester eval," your voice is thin. You wait for him to comment on it. He doesn't.

"Good you're studying." He says.

"Yeah, er..." your phone lights up and your eyes wander to the screen. It's Nick; 'how ya feeling, baby?' You resist the urge to hit the side button to hide it, not wanting to draw attention to it.

"In the way though." He leans on the table and squints at the textbook. "Shouldn't have your phone out for studying."

"Sorry, dad. I... I set a timer. That's all." You lie. "I'll move my stuff."

"Good." He taps the table and marches away.

You push your lips out in muted confusion. Why would you be in the way? You never eat dinner at the table. Not like a family. If anything, Austin and your dad will eat outside when they barbecue but you eat alone most days. If you remember to do so.

You close up the textbook and recoil. You grab the arms of the chair as the toy quakes again. That's a big one. He's torturing you. You didn't answer him!

You snatch up your phone and unlock it. Your hands shake and it takes several tries to type your response. 'Good. Studying.'

You hit send. His message isn't too far behind. 'You feeling me?'

Your eyes round. You stack your books and your laptop and balance your phone on top. You quickly retreat to your room as your core boils.

You snap your door shut and hurry to your bed. You put your stuff on the end and grab the cell. You answer him.

'Yes. I feel it.'

'Good girl.'

You don't know how to reply so you send a heart emoji. You wait but don't see those three dots. You grab your books and bring them to the desk. You'll hide in here. Your dad must have some plans. He never really warns you.

The doorbell chimes as if to confirm your suspicions. You sit and the toy surges inside you. You squeak and keel forward. You squeeze your thighs together and murmur senselessly as the pulse throbs inside you. You put your head to the desk and whine. It's just enough to put you on the edge, but not over.

Your father bellows from below, jerking you up from your rather literal internal struggle. You hiss and grip your skull. You're dizzy as the toy stops. You check your phone as you stand to meet your father's demand. It's hard to balance both.

Your legs are unstable as you force them to move. You pull open the door and stumble. Get yourself together. You take another big breath. At the top of the stairs, you find a semblance of normalcy. Your father's typical apathy will for once work in your favour.

You descend and slow as you get midway. You recognise the voice droning through the entryway. Sure enough, Nick is right there, chatting with your dad. You blink dumbly as his blue eyes meet yours over your father's shoulder. You gulp.

"There she is," Nick chirps. "Where's that other brat?"

"You're too nice, Fowler. How'd you ever get in at the Agency?" Your dad challenges.

"Only nice when I need to be." Nick chuckles and turns his attention back to your dad. "Figure I'd pay you back for the barbecue."

"Uh huh," your father's skeptical tone can't pierce his guest's sauve veneer. Your dad turns to you. "Nick brought dinner." He nods sideways to the console table. There's two large paper bags with handles; from TiTi's. "Set the table."

"Oh okay," you continue down to the bottom of the stairs and go to grab the bags.

"I got it," Nick scoops up the bags before you can. "Got lots so... bit heavy."

"I'm sure she can manage." Your dad sniffs.

"I know they don't give etiquette lessons down at the Agency, Chuck, but I know mine," Nick retorts. He gets a derisive snort from your father.

"I'll find the boy," your dad mutters.

You snake around the banister and head for the kitchen. Nick is like your shadow. The bags crinkle as you go to the cupboard. You pull the doors open and suddenly, your legs are jelly. You smother your mouth as you lean into the counter heavily. You turn to Nick as he rests one elbow on the island, right by the paper bags, and thumbs at his phone. The vibration is so intense it makes your teeth rattle.

"Look at you. Being a good girl." He hums.

You drop your hand. "Nick, I... what are you doing here?"

He presses his thumb down and you nearly collapse. You whimper. He chuckles.

"Asking me questions?" He tuts.

"N-no. I... I didn't expect--" he flicks his fingertip and the pulse mellows out but doesn't stop completely. "Can ya blame me, princess? I wanted to see you. Last night's got my head all fucked up over you."

You stare at him. You didn't expect him, worse you're not sure how to deal with him right now. Your father, schoolwork, the toy.

"I'm... sorry." You utter.

"Don't be sorry. Be a good girl," he winks. "Maybe you'll get a treat."

You shake your head in confusion. You force a smile and rock on your feet. "Okay, I'll...be good."

You turn to take down four plates. You focus on the task if only to keep from melting into the tile. The bags crinkle loudly.

"Should I take this out to the table?" He asks.

"Sure, er, please," you glance over your shoulder.

"Whatever you want, princess."

He lifts the bags and struts out. You stare after him. He's wearing a short-sleeved collar shirt; faint blue lines on white, and powder blue slacks. Everything about him is always cut to a tee. His ring matches his watch and the chain around his neck.

You nearly drop a fork. Stop. Just get through this. You eke out another tight breath. Isn't this awkward for him too?

You go out with the plates and cutlery. Nick unpacks the togo containers calmly, grinning at your appearance. You set down the stack and retreat.

Glasses, napkins... you put those out with the rest and make a third trip. You grab the jug of filtered water with lemon slices and return to the dining room. Your dad sits across from Nick as Austin yawns and pulls put a chair.

"Got a nice family, Chuck," Nick comments as he rests his hand on the back of the empty chair next to him. You hesitate. If you sit further down, it might draw more attention. You near and Nick stands. "I'll get it."

He pulls out the chair as you set down the water pitcher. You thank him, staring at the table as you do, and lower yourself onto the seat. You swallow down a yipe at the reminder of the humming fullness inside.

"Thanks for letting me intrude on it," Nick says.

"Your choice," your dad grabs the container of steaks and claims the biggest one. "Not very exciting."

"Nice to have someone. Figured you more the loner type," Nick rebuffs your father's indifference.

"I guess. What about you? Bit overdue to settle down?"

"Thought about it," Nick offers you some salad and you nod. Then he serves himself. You watch your dad. He is entirely disinterested what's going on. Austin is on his phone. "Who knows. Not too late."

"Get a wife, skip the kids," your dad scoffs.

Nick laughs, "right."

You stay silent. Your father's resent is well-known. You've always been keenly aware of it. It's embarrassing when he announces it in front of others.

Nick sits back and shifts. You peek over. His phone rests on his thigh as he drops his hand under the table and taps. You feel the jolt inside you.

You reach for the seasoned potatoes and cough. You nearly drop the container. You steady it and scoop out a serving.

You don't fill your plate. You know better. Your dad is an expert at finding something to hate you for. He'd as soon accuse you of being greedy.

You wait until everyone else is settled innbefore you touch your food. Austin isn't so patient or modest. His noisy chewing distracts you from the stirngent small talk between the men. That and the contant buzzing in your guts.

"Excuse me a moment. I need your restroom," Nick sets down his fork.

"Sure," your dad sits back.

Nick stands and swiftly skips his phone in his pocket. You feel the vibration speed up. You bite down on a moan. You squirm, unconfortable and wet, as he steps around your chair. The smell of his cologne suffocates you.

You cross your legs and immediately regret that. You sit flat again and struggle not to rock. The tempo slowly builds and builds only to relent and start again.

Theres another buzz. Not from inside. You take out your phone and bow your head. You open the message waiting and nearly squeal. You bat your lashes and hold your breath.

It's a picture of Nick. You recognize the backdrop of the bathroom. He has his shirt off, the gold chain just above his chest, muscles flexed, a devilish sparkle in his eyes. Not fair.

Your name darts over the table. You flinch as you look at your dad. "Phone."

He snaps his fingers at you. You pout and quickly lock the screen. You stare at him.

"It's rude to have it out at the table," he reprimands.

You grimace and look at Austin. Your dad wiggles his fingers expectantly as he holds out his hand. You sigh and hand it over, praying he doesn't find a way to unlock it.

"Sorry."

"When we have company, try not to be dumb." He growls.

You wince. Between his anger and the constant buzzing in your walls, you can barely keep from wilting away. You nod and pick up your fork again.

Nick returns with a sigh. He sits heavily behind you and rests his hand on the back of your chair. He makes it seem thoughtless but it's all that's on your mind.

"So, Chuck. I'm a nice guy, you know, but I did come here with a reason," Nick lays his other hand on his thigh casually. You just keep thinking about how thick his fingers are. His thigh too. "Got a favour. Sorta."

"Of course you do. I'm not new to the game." Your dad gives a wry look.

"Well, you know, I've been running myself ragged and Chuck, you been sitting on a desk..." he clucks and huffs. "You wanna go to Havana?"

"Havana?" Your dad chortles.

"Sure. You must miss the field work. I really don't wanna drag my ass out again. I'll bring ya another bottle of scotch," Nick barters.

His hand grips the back of your chair. You make yourself small and chew on a morsel of steak.

"Bottle of scotch?"

"Did I not mention? I bought a new boat. You can have it for a weekend... or a week. Hell, make it two." Nick counters.

"Something happen in Havana?" Your dad wonders.

Nick laughs, "nothing I should put on record. Come on, Chucky. You really wanna keep sitting in meetings wearing a noose around your neck."

Your dad clicks his tongue. He crosses his arms as he thinks. "Is it a nice boat?"

"Cozy. I'll throw in a pretty lady if you want."

Austin glance up and makes a face. You twitch.

Your dad guffaws. "Any woman hanging off of you, Fowler, I want nothing to do with."

"Fair enough but you're missing out. You could loosen up, ya know?"

Your father glowers, "you're lucky I like you."

"I'm easy to like," Nick's hand slides into his pocket. You brace yourself and the vibrations throb until you can barely sit still. You suspect there's more to this than just work.