#this took me way too long and i struggled with the poses way too much and it did not cure my art slump. oh well

[antirepurp]

revisited the old "they descended from ancients + shadow was made by them" concept and put more thought into the markings this time, that and i took cues from their concept arts as a treat for myself. no chaos forms this time bc if this has to sit on my hard drive any longer im going to start running up the walls hee hoo

(old art + original concept for the curious i suppose)

[kozachenko]

Finally decided to play around with my old lineless style again! Also figured out a way to draw Reimu that I actually really like!

Artist's Notes;

I've mentioned in a few earlier posts that I've been wanting to draw in my lineless style again for a while as a way to test what I've learnt from my previous style in regards to lighting. I did the face first and then for a while was thinking about doing a full body illustration of Reimu just to draw her outfit again. I'll talk about the face first since that's the first drawing I did in this batch.

For the longest time I really couldn't find a way to translate Reimu's face into my style. I was able to make her clothes work out well, just not really her face. I did like elements of how I drew her face a few other times, namely the tiny eyebrows and her pupils, but they didn't really feel like Reimu to me, or at least how I imagined her in my head. I then realized that it was less of a problem with the entire face and moreso the eyes, and it took me quite a bit of trial and error to make something that I was happy with. Also, as much as I thought the tiny eyebrows were cute, it didn't really make sense with her character. Like, from what I know about Japanese history, plucking your eyebrows was something that nobles (rich people) would do, and since Reimu is...neither of those things, I decided to just give her some thicker eyebrows instead (I will be saving the plucked eyebrows for another character though, so they will return). After I got to a face I was happy with, my next challenge was the hair. I did the front part first and liked that enough to continue, and then after more trial and error I realized that deep down I was a short-hair-Reimu-is-best-Reimu-truther this whole time because once I gave up on the long hair and gave her shorter hair something just clicked in my brain. And so, after drawing her outfit in again (this time without the yellow tie which is kinda sad but I'll find a way to incorperate it into future designs because it just was not making sense to me in context with the rest of the outfit) and finnicking around with the bow, I came to a version of Reimu's face that I actually liked. I thought that it made more sense for her character to have her cut it short, mainly because she's doing a bunch of Youkai extermination and she has to keep her hair out of her face somehow. I still wanted to make it kinda messy though, as Reimu is probably too lazy to clean it up herself. I think another reason I like it so much is because in Forbidden Scrollery, Moe Harukawa gave Reimu short hair and that really suited her, so I guess that was just a subconcious reason as to why I liked it so much. I also think that the shorter hair helps to separate her a lot from Marisa, as I think Marisa looks really good with longer hair. Speaking of, now I wanna do a drawing of her and Reimu together to really solidify how I draw them (unlike the previous version where it was just them standing). As much as I do like the face, I am concerned if she looks too much like how I drew Keiki now, but that might just be a product of the stylistic choices I made with her eyes and I might just be overthinking it. I am hyperaware of same face syndrome so that's probably the reason I'm so concerned about it lol.

Now for the fully body drawing. I was struggling to think of a good pose for her, so I just took a picture of myself and used that as a reference while still making slight adjustments for readability's sake. This is another case of, "I've looked at this too long and can spot every single issue with it" but this time I'm still happy with the final product mainly because this was a test drive for how I want to develop my lineless style in the future and for what it is I am more than pleased with the result. The main reason I deviated away from my lineless style was mainly because I was having a hard time with the lighting and making it interesting, and I am so glad that I've finally found a way to make it work! I'm especially happy with the clothes, as I think clothing folds are really fun to draw. I was somewhat inspired by the works of J.C. Lyendecker and the way he draws clothes, though admittedly it is not a one to one, since I mainly wanted to try implying the shading of the clothing folds with shapes (I do really want to do a study of his style one day as his art is incredible). So for the sleeves, I drew in a bunch of triangles where I wanted there to be a strong highlight, roughly coloured in the inside, and then blended them all so it looks like a more subtle. On both of these drawings, I also added in a noise filter to give it some texture (as that's what I used to often do with my drawings) and while I do like it, I might want to experiment with making it more subtle in the future, as it's pretty noticeable in both these drawings. Overall, I'm really happy with the lighting and colours of this drawing, and while I could nitpick several aspects of it (her hand holding the gohei looks too tense, I tried making her look like she was standing on the balls of her feet but the positioning of her Gohei's trail of papers ends up making it look weird, and I could've put more effort into the hair and bow and so many more things), this is more of a piece for me to experiment with my style again, and I'm excited for when I get a new idea for a piece, as I really wanna try some more stuff out with this style!

[strangerxperv]

hiiii id like to request a robin buckley x reader smut, maybe one where robin’s this desperate loser lesbian archetype and she has a huge crush on reader, reader ends up letting robin fuck her however she wants. sorry if this isn’t how you’re supposed to request, i couldn’t find a request button!! thank you!! :)

A request I've been sitting on

Robin Buckley x popular Reader

Minors fuck off

NSFW

word count: 1K

You're popular, like truly popular and friendly with literally everyone. Friends with jocks, nerds, druggies, outcasts, and other popular people (just as a few examples). Being a class clown with charisma sprouting like flowers in spring has its perks.

It's the reason Robin has such a crush on you and can't help but follow after you. You're both besties! The kind where one jokes about fucking the other and that friend desperately wants it to be a reality. She wants to see how pretty your clit is and how good you taste.

Robin's seen you naked thanks to gym class and the occasional slumber parties. She knows what color your nipples are and how much hair is on your pelvis. The way your ass jiggles when you pull up your panties.

Robin knows what your favorite panties and bras are, it's memorized, she even knows your sizes. Hell! You've even posed while wearing lingerie to get Robin's friendly opinion.

What she doesn't know is that you've figured her out, her little secret. You still remember the first time Robin saw you completely nude. You thought she broke her jaw from how hard her jaw hit the floor.

The way she looked you up and down. Blue eyes lingering on your tits and sliding down to your pussy, seemingly stuck. Robin's eyes widen when she sees that you're wet, slick shining.

You pieced it all together after that and loved to make her squirm. Flirting with the brunette was your favorite pass time and left you more than wet. You wanted to see how long it would take her to notice that you knew. You wondered how long it would take for her to snap, what will she do?

Which leads you to now, with your legs spread wide and cunt glistening in front of your best friend, "Is my ex right? Does it look gross?"

Her blue eyes are eclipsed with black that snap up to your face before taking in your entirety. "He's an idiot. If I were a guy I'd be hard as hell."

"You aren't hard? Clits get hard but you said you aren't, so it's not pretty?"

Robin's face reddens and she licks her lips before speaking, "No, I'm definitely hard. It's so fucking hot. Like, seriously hot." Her trembling words encourage your hand to slide down. Gently you spread your cunt open to show your twitching clit and sopping hole. "Whoa."

Her whisper buffs onto your slit and lads on your pearl forcing more slick onto the bed. "Well, I don't know that for sure." You pause, "Can I see?" Her head snaps up at you so fast you worry for her neck and if it might hurt later.

"Y-you want to see, you want to see my...down there?" Robin's face couldn't possibly get any more red and she holds her breath.

"Well...we are both girls so it's not a big deal plus we're both besties! And, to be fair, you've seen me." Still your legs are spread while you keep your lips open. "Would it help if I took everything off?"

With that you remove your hand and whip the shirt over your head. Making fast work of your bra to toss onto the floor. Your tits bounce with the movement leaving you completely nude. "Does this help? Can I see if you're hard?"

At this point you could ask Robin to murder someone and she'd agree. How could she refuse her crush? Especially when she's completely naked on her bed with spread legs.

Robin stands silently and fumbles with the button on her jeans then struggles to pull the zipper down. Shucking them down quickly to kick it aside before yanking her panties off and kicking them aside too. Robin climbs onto the bed and spreads her own tan legs.

You close your thighs and sit up onto your knees crawling to her. In a few short moments you're between her legs. Your hand slides up the bed to below Robin and up the inside of her thigh, it's slick. "I can't see." Comes your breathy explanation as you gently spread her open.

Her clit is a pretty pink color and standing at attention, stiff, and it calls to you. Blowing purposefully onto the shiny pearl makes it twitch desperately. Robin let's out a surprised gaspy moan with her head thrown back.

"You really are hard for me. Does that mean you wanna fuck me? When boys are hard that means they do." You want her to say it. Say that she needs you as much as she needs you.

"Mmm..." Her blue eyes lock with your own pretty eyes, "I want to...I-I do." It's not that Robin is unsure of her feelings but she is afraid.

"Why? Do you like me like a boy does?"

"Please, please don't be mad." There's tears in her blue eyes as she begins to close her legs.

But before she can you're between them pressed against her. Your lips are on her own in a gentle embrace that makes her gasp. Your slick tongue flicks her lower lip announcing it's presence. Slithering into Robin's mouth the wet appendage tangles with her own.

"I could never hate you Robin. Not for this. I know how you feel and I obviously feel the same. Never, never question this." You lay one more quick kiss onto her plump lips, "Since you've liked me longer I think you should fuck me first, however you want me."

Those words seem to spur her forward as she flips you onto your back, "You've known the entire time. You little fucking tease! Do you know how many panties you've ruined and how many nights I had to feel guilty? Cumming to you was the best and worst thing up to this point." She bites your neck until you're crying out her name, "Tonight you're gonna make it all better cause I'm gonna punish you till I feel better."

[boxbug]

A Canary’s Final Flight

My piece for @trafficzine 4th edition! Get it for free here! 200 pages of excellent art and fics, incredible work from all participants and from the mods especially!! huge shoutout to the mods for real

Process notes under the cut! (I struggled a lot so it's a bit of a novel)

So the entire process was a Ride. I knew when I picked this prompt that I was going to have a hard time, because Jimmy’s final death had been illustrated a billion times over by extremely talented artists. But I had a Vision of the snapshot of the second before the impact, when everything is still but you know what’s about happen. It was very much inspired by the clip of Fog by Jabberwocky, bu the thing is, they have the advantage of all the build up of the fall, and that’s when the trouble started.

This was my first version, and obviously it wasn't working. And I was trying so hard, with so many iterations! Small wings, big wings, no wings, different poses, less backgrounds elements. I'd done compositions were everything seemed peaceful but something is Wrong, but it wasn't working this time.

So instead I focused on what rendering I'd like to do - I tried a painterly approach, for that visceral feeling, but it wasn't working either (but hey, I did keep the red sky, so, progress)

At this point I'd been doing back and forths for weeks and I was just as lost as at the start. Now that's my tip for people who make art of any kind, in situations like that, stop thinking about how you can make the best piece possible, and think about you can have fun with it (because when you aren't it's visible). And for that was, 1 - going back to using ink and pen nibs and doing way too detailed inking, and 2- looking at Dave McKean's covers for Sandman (which, funnily enough, was also a reference for my previous trafficzine piece)

And from there I was actually going somewhere! Between the jagged rocks, the red sky, and the increased verticality with the borders, I had hit the vibes I wanted.

I did some experimentation with the border, and even though I really liked the bad boys I drew they were taking too much away from the lonely desolation, so I actually used Red (Unecessary Redstone)'s idea of all of Jimmy's worldy's possessions scattered on the ground post impact, with the idea to make it looks like the central image is his grave being dug.

(and yes for a short amount of time the were supposed to be clock markings on the sun, but there was already enough going with the wings so I scrapped that) (also fun fact the reason why the wings aren't fully material but more ghostly is because my toddler cousin was watching me draw the very first draft and asked why he didn't just use his wings and i went :( so the wings are a metaphor now)

So from there I found a bunch of picture and took some myself, cut and assembled everything together, added shadows in all the appropriate places, and repainted some elements so that everything would look better intergrated (some of the wheats are basically 100% handpainted, the cardboard as well). This took a suprisingly long amount of time, but I was done!

Well I wasn't expecting to have that much to say, but I hope if you're still reading, it was at least interesting!

[kabukiaku]

Hello, hope you are having an amazing day! <3

I was wondering if you would ever show your sketch process? I like to draw sometimes and the way you draw poses flows very nicely. I want to learn how to do this too. When I do mine it looks very stiff and rigid. Unnatural.

Do you use ‘construction lines’?

Thank you take care :]

happy to show it to you! luckily, i keep most of my sketch layers in my artwork. here's a recent one:

and yes, i will use construction lines...loosely. as you can see, sometimes I have a very rough layout sketch, and the second to forth sketches are my final sketches before i move onto lineart.

sometimes i have trouble with poses. actually, i have trouble all the time. i struggled to find the right pose for omega in the first drawing. took me a good few tries! so sometimes I will use references. like in this one:

for stuff like ice skating or characters in action, it helps so much to use direct references from real life. my strokes are long, but closely connected, and i try not to stay at a spot for too long unless its for detailing later.

i always try to get the dynamics down first. and then move onto facial expressions, clothing, etc.

hope this gives you insight on how i approach my drawings! thanks for the ask :)

[jinnie-ret]

MY YOUTH | SKZ NINTH AU

stray kids x ninth member!reader (platonic)

<---------- back to my youth

<---------- back to main masterlist

chapter 5

genre: fluff, tiny angst content warnings: small mention of grief

word count: 1.2k

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March 25th 2019

Lou couldn't thank the gods above enough that she had been transported two years prior to the world she was living in her home universe. It certainly benefitted her that she was already familiar with the Miroh choreography, and the fact she needed help with fine-tuning particular moves played to her advantage considering this version of her struggled with dance too. Maybe they weren't that different after all.

"Lou, you ready?" Minho asked softly, putting his hands on her shoulders and trying to capture her attention.

"Yeah! Yeah..." Lou nodded but the expression on her face didn't change.

"Don't think too much about the choreo, hm? It's automatic by now," he reminded her before guiding her to the group huddle.

He was right. Even though they had cheered each other on and hyped everyone up before finding their starting poses on stage with a 'hwaiting', the nerves still lingered. That was until the first notes of Miroh played and it was like a switch went off in her head, adrenaline suddenly flowing within her as she felt her face morph into exciting expressions, her body move sharply and softly when needed, and of course her gorgeous singing voice during the bridge of the song. It was when Chan normally sang, she noted to herself.

Stays cheered ecstatically after their performance, excited to see the boys and Sunny before their very eyes. Yes, she was Sunny here, and just Louisa back in her home universe. She was sure she even saw faint glimpses of her other self practising the Miroh choreography in her bedroom at home.

Thankfully that adrenaline was still present in her mind like autopilot, and that's what got her through the awkward backstage interviews. It was either that or Chan doing most of the talking as their leader.

She still found it crazy that Chan was her leader too.

A staff member came up to them as they sat down to recooperate, turning to Jeongin and Lou first.

🔴📹

"It was so fun, so it wasn't really hard at all," Jeongin grinned as usual to the camera for SKZ Talker.

"Speak for yourself," Lou said with her eyes squinting at the other maknae, whilst she was leant back against the wall.

"You didn't enjoy it?" Chan questioned intrigued, ruffling her hair.

"I'm joking, Bang Chan," Lou used an informal tone, exaggerating her voice weirdly, which got a laugh out of Seungmin and Stays in the future when they'd watch the vlog.

•NEW CLIP• 🔴📹

"Talker wake up," Changbin cooed at the camera sweetly.

"Just shout at them, I'm sure they'll hear your voice," Lou earnestly nodded, not one ounce of a mean tone present. She meant it as a compliment of course, it was truly impressive what the dwaekki could do with his voice. Yet the boys still thought she dissing Changbin and let out an 'ohhhhh' and clapped their hands laughing.

"Yahhh, why are you doing that I meant Changbin has a loud voice and knows how to use it!" Lou huffed, rolling her eyes, making Han pat her head and poke her cheek to get a smile out of her. He was quickly successful in his efforts, the aegi sun never not smiling for too long.

"Aish I knew Sunny wouldn't be mean to me," Changbin let out a cheer and did a little happy dance in front of her, wiggling his hips.

•NEW CLIP• 🔴📹

On the way back to the dorms, Lou was sat at the back of the car between her 'parents' Han and Minho, whilst Hyunjin and Felix were sat in the row in front of them. Chan, Changbin, Seungmin and Jeongin had taken another car back.

"Next time we ask you to provide the harmony stay," Minho pointed righteously towards the camera Hyunjin was holding to record the chaos of the car.

All it took was Han starting a note and then a nudge in the shoulder to Lou to gesture her to keep going. It made her jump but she nodded enthusiastically before a beautiful harmony filled the car. Amazingly, they both purposefully went out of tune at the same time making everyone burst into giggles.

"I got to host today with Seungminnie..." Felix began talking to the camera next to Hyunjin, but Lou was much more preoccupied with taking Han's snacks for herself and passing them to Minho at the same time.

❎📹

Finally the cars arrived at the dorm, dropping the kids off, and with the reunion outside the cars came a race between the youngest two to the front door, Chan facepalming as he led the others more calmly.

When they all got there however, Lou and Jeongin were stood confused at the parcel with some orange flowers attached to it.

"Woah what's this?" Hyunjin picked it up curiously, Seungmin stood at his side as they scanned it for a label.

"Oh it's for Sunny," Seungmin voiced what he spotted.

That gave perfect opportunity for Hyunjin to use his height against the young girl and hold the parcel way above his own head so that there was no chance that she would be able to reach it herself.

"Hyunjin! Heyyy! I will vandalise your room again," Lou threatened him yet laughing as she did so.

"Okayyyy, okay," Hyunjin laughed, still taking the threat seriously as he gave her the parcel and they all entered the dorm, sitting around on the sofas and watching eagerly as Lou untied the flowers from the parcel.

"Wah, the flowers, so pretty. I wonder what they are," Felix tilted his head in wonder.

"Marigolds," Lou blinked and said, without even having time to process the thought that seemed to come out of her so quickly it couldn't of possibly been really her. How did she know that?

"How did you know that?" Jeongin seemed impressed.

"I actually don't know," Lou shrugged, feeling impressed herself as she placed the parcel onto her lap and began unwrapping it excitedly. Maybe it was a gift from family or a friend that would give her more information on who she actually had support from other than the boys and some staff in this universe.

Her excitement and curiosity soon dulled down when she realised what was inside the parcel. She felt her heart break, and her eyes welled up without her cognition, struggling to keep her cool as she had nowhere to hide.

"Hey, hey, what's the matter?" Chan sat up from his sunken spot on the sofa when he saw the tears in her eyes and Hyunjin and Seungmin looking shocked and appalled at the same time.

"Garfield..." Lou sadly trailed off shoving the open parcel on the table and rushing off to her room to try and make sense of her emotions.

"I'll go after her," Minho frowned at the contents of what once was the sentimental cat plushie gifted by Lou's dead mother.

The boys knew how much this would hit their sun. The toy that was the only thing she had left from her mother, and it had been cruelly ripped apart, stuffing hanging out and over the few seams that were still intact. Such effort and care to go into a meticulously wrapped parcel when there was a chaotic wreck inside.

<-- previous chapter next chapter -->

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tagged: @akitfffr @aeinzzzketchup @linoalwaysknows @royal-shinigami @jolly04 @turtledove824 @yangbbokari @thisrandomgoofy15 @lieslab @hannamoon143

a/n so sorry it's been a long time since I've updated this series, but I feel like I've got a good direction for it now and I'm excited to share it with you all :)

[thicccshady]

Consanguineous🍾

Eminem X Reader

✨️MasterList✨️

Content: Fluff, Sexual undertones, Alcohol use, cursing (2K Words)

A/N: As a reminder, the Marshall in these stories is fictional. In this world, I image he and Y/N have had previous conversations about his sobriety and his boundaries with alcohol in the home. Out of respect, Y/N typically does not keep much around, however as a slight party animal she knows her way around a liquor store.

When you weren't able to travel with Marshall, you made sure to make a big but inanimate celebration out of his homecoming. He turly was a homebody, but he couldn't resist the temptations of being one of the top selling artist of all time. His ego certainly did not mind the attention too. You found it adorable how he would crash, practically laying on top of you, after a show. You'd watch his goofy ass snore, mouth wide open, and cheek pressed against your chest. Even the big bad rapper needed held time from time. Without your presence, back massages, (and other massages) he struggled to regulate himself after a long day. No secret Marshall is an introvert with the social battery of a first generation iPod, so when you two reunited it was always a big relief.

A last minute trip sending Marshall to LA posed a threat to your tradition. He would return the same night as your best friend, Ashley's, bachelorette party. You and Ashley had known each other for ages. Her party would be the child of half a decade's dreams and delusions.

Two nights before her party, Marshall got a call from Paul. In the kitchen, you were whipping up enough jello shots to put a few elephants to sleep. Carrying a can of coke, he entered the room, flip phone pressed between his shoulder and ear. His expression was rather blank until a whiff of the concoction you made hit his nose. An overly dramatic gag escaped him and he rushed out of the room. "Sorry Paul. My house smells like fucking cherries and rubbing alchool." He peaked his head back around the doorframe "What cheap ass vodka did you buy?"

You shrugged. "It was on sale and it's in a plastic bottle!" Not breaking eye contact, you poured the rest of the bottle in the pot. Marshall shook his head chuckling and returned to his phone call.

After placing the last tray of shots in the fridge, you wander to the bedroom. Marshall was huddled over his notebook scribbling madly with intention. You knew better than to disturb him when inspiration struck. As you laid down on the bed, your back to Marshall, you heard a soft "Babe?"

"Mm-Hm" you turned to look at him.

He scratched another word down then rolled close to you, holding his notebook out for you to read, "What do you think?"

You took your time analyzing his work, eyes hovering over a long word. "Marshall, is Consanguineous a real word?"

He smirked, "yeah, read it again, 'I'm consanguineous to my fallen father, the prince of darkness'"

You blinked at him. The context clues flew over your head.

His mouth hung open in anticipation, "It means I'm the descendant of the devil... you know the red fucker with horns."

You flipped him off while softly laughing at his sarcasm. He returned the gesture then sat his pencil and notebook to the side. You curled up to, him happy to spend the evening together. He traced shapes or maybe words on your back.

"Y/N?" He softly said. You looked up at him. "Paul needs me to go to a meeting in LA. I'll have to fly out tomorrow afternoon, then back Friday night." He studied your face for a reaction. "Please don't worry about me, Y/N. Go to Ashley's and enjoy her party. I'll see you when you get home."

"That’s if the jello shots don't take me out." You joked. Marshall didn't laugh.

“If you can’t manage to get home from fucking three houses down the block, we will be having a conversation.” Jesus christ, this man was such a dad even when he didn’t mean to be. You gave him a little salut and said, “yes sir.” 

The rest of the night, you and Marshall settled down, falling asleep to Family Guy. Selfishly, you were thankful his trip would only take him away for a day and a half. Sure, he hated flying, and hated LA more, but at least he wasn’t overexerting himself with a big event. Secretly, you made a small list of his favorite baked goods to prepare once he left. Even though you wouldn’t physically be home to greet him, you could at least leave little surprises around the house. 

---

Friday evening, you finished packing the jello shots in a huge gift box. While your walk to the party was brief, it was peaceful. Internally, the excitement of the evening radiated through your body. Externally, the bite of the Detroit winter sent shivers down your spine. 

Wearing homemade matching t-shirts, the girls and you instantly got to business. Silly little games, mixed with catching up, and telling stories Ashley might have preferred to forget, filled your night. Between it all the jello shots seemed to disappear rather quickly. 

Around eleven o’clock, you found yourself with a wine glass in one hand and some whiskey in the other. Honestly, that was a wild choice, even for you. Politely, you excused yourself to the restroom. Upon closing the door and looking in the mirror, the lack of sobriety in your system hit. It hit hard. Eyes wide, the altered reality around you seemed slightly foreign. Thinking of Marshall’s words from the other night, you decide it was time to go home. You also missed him. In this state, if you thought too much about how you missed him you would start crying.

You gracefully excused yourself, taking time to say goodbye and (allegedly) take one more shot with Ashley. You called Marshall to let him know you were on your way home. The call bounced to voicemail. You shrugged it off, he probably left his phone on airplane mode.

After concentrating on acting sober a bit too much, you finally made it through your front door. Your face lit up as you saw the plate of goodies you left for Marshall displaced. Dropping your shoes next to his in the foyer, you didn’t even mind the snow gunk he managed to track inside. Quietly making your way to the bedroom, you found Marshall in bed. Directly in the middle of the mattress, he was sprawled out, face squished against a pillow, and still wearing his clothes from the day. Gently you tried to find a way to join him without hanging halfway off the bed. He resembled a starfish, limbs reaching out in all directions. Perhaps he literally belly flopped into bed. Trying your best to gently roll him over, you lost your balance and face-planted onto his back. 

You froze, wondering if you woke him. 

“hmm?” he grunted. Turning his face towards you a smile escaped. Marshall's sleepy eyes blinked open, focusing on you in the dim light. "Hey baby," he mumbled, voice gravelly from sleep. "You're home early."

You giggled, still draped across his back. "Nope, you're just passed out early, old man."

He chuckled and shifted, rolling onto his side and guiding you onto the mattress next to him. His arm snaked around your waist, pulling you close. "Missed you," he murmured, nuzzling into your neck.

The scent of his cologne mixed with the faint trace of airplane air filled your senses. Alchool still buzzing through your system, you breathed him in deeply. "Missed you too. How was LA?"

Marshall groaned dramatically. "Fucking awful. Too hot, too crowded, too... fuckin' everything. You know what I’m saying." He paused, lifting his head to look at you. “You good?”

You blushed, a little embarrassed and unsure how you looked. “How drunk do I…” accidentally trailing off the familiar warmth of his presence stole your attention.

He laughed, waking up a bit more and assessing the situation, “Yes, Y/N. You are shitfaced.” Brushing your hair with his fingers. “Let’s get you ready for bed.”

Suddenly distracted by the man in front of you, your hand wandered down to the hem of his pants. Pulling on his belt, “Since when do you sleep in jeans?”

“Oh shit. Guess I need to get ready too.”

A grin crossing your face, “I can help with that.”

He took a hold of your hand and placed a soft kiss on it. “Sweetheart, it’s time for me to take care of your messy ass.” Getting up, he crossed to his side of the closet and pulled a t-shirt for you. He grabbed one of your pj shorts and neatly placed the clothes down. “Do you think you can dress yourself?” Smiling you gave him two thumbs up. “Alright, I am going to grab a few things. Be right back.” He placed a kiss on your forehead and stepped out. 

Undressing was surprisingly easier than you thought it would be. Getting a little lost in Marshall’s t-shirt, dressing yourself posed a challenge. Marshall came back to you wrestling the pair of shorts onto yourself. Looking up at him a little “Help.” broke the comedic silence.

Next to your side of the bed, he sat down a glass of water, granola bar, your makeup cleanser, a hand towel, and folded up trash bag. “It might help if you only put one leg in each hole Darling.” 

“You only put one leg in a hole.” Slowly you realized the nonsense you just said, “the fuck?” 

Pulling you towards him, between chuckles he said, “Come here, Y/N.” Marshall gently helped you into your shorts, his hands warm against your skin. "There we go," he said softly, pulling the waistband into place. "Can you sit up for me?."

You sat up a little too far, falling forward you caught yourself. He slid into bed behind you and wrapped his arm around you for support. With his other arm he reached for the makeup cleanser and towel. tenderly he wiped your face. His touch was so gentle, you found yourself leaning into him. "Close your eyes," he murmured, carefully removing your eye makeup.

When he finished, you blinked up at him, feeling more clear-headed. "Thanks," you whispered.

"Drink some water for me," Marshall instructed, handing you the glass. You took a few sips as he watched, making sure you didn't spill. As you began to set the glass down, you heard, “Nah, drink all of it.”

Rolling your eyes, you continued drinking. “Marshall, are you trying to sober me up?”

Placing a kiss on you cheek he smirked. “Don’t want you feeling like complete shit tomorrow.”

You finished the glass, showing him by dumping it upside down. A few cold drops hit his arm. "Motherfucker.” Helping you set the glass back onto the table, he asked, “How was Ashley's party?"

You smiled, memories flooding back. "It was fun.” Pausing you formulated your next sentence. “I am a consanguineous to the vodka.”

You loved hearing his laugh. “Is that so.” he raised an eyebrow and laid back pulling you on top of him. “You are so fucking cute.”

Wiggling onto your stomach you met his lips with a tender kiss. Eyes widening you suddenly sat up. “Marshall you’re wearing jeans.”

“Well fuck me.” he said rather sarcastically. Sitting up, he allowed you to pull his shirt off. Uh Oh, he allowed you to pull his shirt off. Exposed to his tattoos and rather athletic build, your mind flew in all directions. I mean, he was right in front of you with his-

“Y/N”, He raised an eyebrow at you. 

“Sorry.” you giggled, hands on his chest.

“Man you just can’t keep it in your pants can you?” He smirked and rolled you to your back. Excited you were prepared for anything. Expect Marshall simply slide his jeans off and returned to bed. He noticed your pouting face. “nah we aren’t doing shit with your drunk ass tonight.” Groaning in annoyance you cuddled up to him. 

“I’m glad you're home” you whispered. 

“You too.” He kissed the top of your head and wrapped a blanket around you both.

A few moments of peaceful silence passed by. Without thinking, your thoughts seemed to speak themselves out loud. “Con swen ginny us… ConSin gwinny oh us… Wisconsin so gin ee us.”

Marshall opened one eye and peered at you. “Consanguineous, babe.”

A/N: If you looked up the definition of "consanguineous" shout out to you. Extra bonus shout out if you already knew what it meant!

✨️Want to know when I post? Click here to join my taglist!✨️

@crazycat-ladys-blog@ @tomdayaloveforever@ @4-ln4@ @hereforfun-31@ @watercolorskyy@

@viktoriya2008@ @confiaenanaa@ @nebulamorada@

[rustyarcade]

What are ur Bride and Fishbride hcs? 👀

Oh anon I’m so glad you asked :3 I’ll do my Bride hcs here and then another ask asked for bride or fishbride hcs so I’ll answer fishbride over there! I’ll link that here once I make it.

But for now, THE BRIDE HEADCANONS!!!

TW // mentions of grooming

So her ethnicity is kinda tricky since yknow… she’s kinda made of a bunch of different people. To me, however, I see her as Pokolistani/Indian/Puerto Rican (I love latinofying my faves lol). Unrealistic? Sure but she’s also a walking corpse who’s dating a fish woman so 🇮🇳🇵🇷!!!

And the reason she has a British accent is because she spent a long time in England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿 which is where she really refined her speaking abilities

Ur honor she is a lesbian! She struggled with comphet when she first escaped, but eventually she got the confidence within herself to accept herself for who she truly is.

I feel like over the years she’s become somewhat indifferent to pronouns and such, but she prefers she/her out of all of them.

Severe PTSD

It took her a long time to realize she was created to just be an object for Eric, but it took her even longer to realize and even more longer to accept that Victor groomed her

Will never refer to Eric with his name. It will always be brute, monster, or something of the sort

Really likes reading! She’s read through the entirety of Belle Reve’s library at least twice

Works out as much as possible. It helps her get her mind off of things

Has the ability to take her limbs off Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas style, but it hurts like hell to take them off and takes a lot of willpower to control them so she doesn’t do it often.

This diva does her own nails💅

Very flexible. I see her doing Bayonetta type poses while fighting

Great dancer. Learned a lot of different styles of dance along her trek around the world

Snatches things from the places they go to for missions (jewelry, heirlooms, vases, all sorts of trinkets) she has a little treasure trove under her bunk

She’ll give the ones she finds the prettiest to Nina

As I mentioned in my Nina headcanons, they’re very very close and it hurts her to see Nina in any physical/mental/emotional pain

The Bride is rather protective of all the members as she gets closer to them over time, but especially over Nina since she’s the closest to her

Bride and Weasel are like that meme of “dads with the dog they didn’t want”

Despite their frequent arguing, she treats Phosphorus like an old friend and they love sneaking out of missions to get drinks together

The Bride really appreciates him since it’s her first male friendship which she was quite hesitant on.

She likes GI Robot. But she really likes using him to fuck with people. AKA, if anyone pisses her off with GI close to her, she’ll go, “Sounds like something a nazi would say…” which will cause GI to pull out his weapons to scare whoever she said that too. Nina doesn’t like when she does this, but Phosphorus finds it absolutely hilarious

Knowledgeable on weaponry. She teaches Nina and Phosphorus how to use all sorts of guns, knives, etc

Blames herself for Nina’s death. She will never ever let her walls down and love anyone the same way again. Cries to herself sometimes when she thinks of her.

Yay hoped you like them :3 Fishbride hcs soon!

[lvrsturniolo]

“a boy two boys who are jacked and kind..”

‘Slim Pickins’

dividers by @bernardsbendystraws 💓

It was one of those random afternoons where you, Matt, and Chris were just hanging out at their house(Nick had just gotten back from a space camp meeting and was taking a nap),scrolling through TikTok and tossing around ideas for what to do. Chris was laying sprawled across the couch, scrolling through his For You Page, while Matt sat at the table pretending to be interested in something on his phone. You were sitting on the floor, back against the couch, doing the same thing until Chris suddenly sat up.

“Yo, have you two seen that one TikTok trend to the Sabrina carpenter song?,” he said, grinning like he just had the best idea ever.

“The Juno pose one? Cause I’m not doing that if that’s what you’re thinking of.”

The boy giggled softly. “No, no. It’s the one to- I think the songs called slim pickins?”

You squinted at him. “What’s that?”

He flipped his phone around to show a video of some dude lifting his girlfriend onto his shoulder.

“Absolutely not,” Matt muttered from across the room without even looking up.

Chris rolled his eyes. “Don’t even start. It’s not like you’d be the only one lifting her. We’d do it together. Team effort.”

You laughed, looking between them. “You seriously think both of you could pull that off? You’re barely strong enough to pick me up in general, let alone on your shoulder.”

Chris was already hyped. “Nah, we got this, it’ll be both of us together;piece of cake! We’re stronger than we look, right Matt?”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Speak for yourself.

“C’mon,” Chris said, nudging you. “You in? It’ll be funny. Worst case, we drop you and it’s great content.

“Worst case, I break a bone and you’re paying my hospital bill,” you shot back, but honestly, it sounded kind of fun.

Chris clapped his hands together, leaning down and kissing you softly on your forehead. “Thank you baby, it’ll be fun I promise.”

It took another ten minutes of you and Chris trying to convince Matt, but when he saw you giving him those eyes. The begging eyes,he finally caved. “Fine, but if this goes south, m’blaming both of you,” Matt grumbled.

“Yeah, yeah,” Chris said, dragging you both to the center of the living room where there was more space. “Alright, so here’s the plan. You get in the middle, we both squat down, and then we lift you up. Easy.”

“Easy for you to say,” Matt muttered, shaking his head but moving into position anyway.

The first attempt was a disaster. You couldn’t stop laughing long enough to actually get steady, and Matt kept losing his grip.

“Bro, hold her fuckin legs higher!” Chris yelled, adjusting his grip on your thigh.

“I’m trying! She keeps moving!” Matt shot back, struggling to keep his balance.

“Guys, I swear if you drop me—” you started, but you were laughing too hard to finish the sentence.

By the third try, you were all red-faced and wheezing from laughing so much. Finally, Chris and Matt managed to get you up on their shoulders at the same time, and you threw your arms out like you were on top of the world.

“WE DID IT!” Chris yelled, spinning in a circle while still holding you up.

Matt looked up at you, smirking despite himself. “Not bad, huh?”

“Alright, alright, you proved me wrong,” you said, laughing and holding onto their heads for balance.

You all stood there for a second, just laughing like idiots and feeling way too proud of yourselves. It wasn’t perfect, but it was your kind of perfect.

“Alright, one more time for the TikTok,” Chris said, already setting up his phone.

Matt groaned. “You’ve gotta be kidding me! Why weren’t we filming before?”

“Come on, Matt,” you teased. “For the content!”

And honestly? It was worth every awkward, giggly attempt.

Mel speaks~I know this is shit but I tried 😋😋 I loveeeee Chratt so much

[tae-rhymeswithslay]

TMNT: COLOR CODED Casey Jones

colorcoded au by @camilieroart

im so sorry, it doesn’t really look like him, but I tried 😭. I chose a skating pose, but it took me wayy too long to realize that none of the official drawings of Casey have him in skates, so i just followed those. I also tried to combine his normal clothes with his battle outfit bc i just couldn’t decide which one to draw him in

I literally have SO much to say about this Casey! this little rant is probably gonna go on for way too long lol (feel free not to read)

props to @camilieroart for writing this amazing au bc ive been obsessed ever since i saw it in passing on instagram.

Casey has always been my favorite tmnt character. Ever. Hands down. There was something about him that I just adored. As a kid and even now. That being said, finding a version of Casey that was so much like me was like an early Christmas. I was already sucked in to the AU since like, last year when I found it for the first time. But I only recently read through Casey’s backstory and found out that he was korean, which only made me double down on how much I loved his character in Colorcoded.

(I really hope this next part doesn’t come off as narcissistic, its really just me full of admiration for this character and AU)

It was incredible to see a version of my favorite character like EVER (not even joking) that looked a lot like me and came from a background a lot like mine. Beyond just his skin tone being dark and matching mine (which I think I commented about already) this Casey seriously feels like looking into a mirror of myself from a few years ago. Both visually and mentally. It’s refreshing to see Korean characters that aren’t reduced to the asian standards of beauty, but still look like their ethnicity, because we absolutely DO exist. From my darker skin color to even my wide nose shape which I share with this Casey, I was told constantly as a kid (by other koreans mind you) that I didn’t ‘look korean enough’. So it’s nice to see those features that made me so insecure growing up presented in someone I admired during that same period of time. Even Casey’s hair looks so much like the cut I had/was forced to get (lol) growing up, down to the M shaped bangs. Though I wasn’t allowed to grow out my hair like Casey has in the back, it was something I always wanted to do as a kid. I even got into ice skating BECAUSE of Casey, like, I adore him so so much.

Though I’m lucky enough to have a family much healthier than Casey’s, I still found myself relating a lot to him in terms of his Korean-American identity. Growing up, my parents wanted me to learn as much English as possible as opposed to Korean, but they switched mindsets when it came to my younger sister (Yeah! i’ve also got a younger sister too, and by just EXTREME coincidence, she also has a similar sounding name Hae-in 해인) so she speaks a lot more Korean than I do. I still struggle a little bit when speaking conversational Korean, even though it’s technically my ‘first’ language lol. My family even calls me by my english name and my sister by her Korean name. I’m not sharing my legal name online, but i’ve got the same deal as Casey where I’ve got an English legal name, but also an unofficial korean name which was REALLY surprising to read, because literally none of my korean friends have the same name situation. Beyond little nit-picky things (that don’t even count as mistakes, really) in his conversations with his sister, you got the Korean conversations down really well (like, the cadence and grammar and stuff, idk how to explain it, but it really sounds like a conversation i might’ve had with my little cousins, just translated)

TLDR: i absolutely ADORE this Casey and I see just SO much of myself in him. He is wonderfully written as a character and you nailed his korean-american identity to a T (according to me and my personal experiences at least)

SORRY FOR THE RANT

:)

[kimmiessimmies]

Make this night count...

"Look at all the colours! Isn't it pretty, James?"

"Very. The view is great from up here."

"It was a good idea to book this room for tonight."

"I'm full of good ideas."

"We have made things difficult for her this year, haven't we, James?"

"For whom, lovely?"

"Our author. This. Us. It was never part of her plan, was it?"

"No, but, haven't we also made things great for her?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Well, we've made things great for us, either way, Sade."

"Cheers to that, lovely."

"Sade..."

"Hmm...?"

"You wouldn't let me kiss you under the mistletoe because of where it might lead, but... since we're here now... Will you let me kiss you for New Year's?"

"Umm... No, I don't think so...

"Oh... Sorry..."

"I'm not going to let you kiss me for New Year's, James, because I'm going to kiss you first."

"Wha..."

"Happy New Year, you."

"Happy New Year, my girl..."

......

....

...

"James?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think she'll let us be together in the new year?"

"We'll have to see, love... Let's make this night count while we're here..."

My dear followers,

This year has been very... intense... for me. I already wrote a long post about my mental health struggles, which put a huge stamp on my year. However, 2023 will also forever be the year I went back to my Sims, back to my stories, and back to Tumblr.

I spent five years away. Both because real life took over and because I had gotten into a rut with my Sims and the story. I never forgot them, though, and never stopped loving them. And suddenly, somewhere in February, it clicked. Everything fell into place, and I knew where I wanted to go with it all. In fact, it was this boy up here, my dearest James, who pulled me back. His story was suddenly clear as day to me. But how to begin? So, in March, I decided to just start writing. Then, I dusted off my game, found that all shortcuts and cheats were apparently in my muscle memory, and started shooting pictures to go with what I had written. And once I got going, I didn't stop. Everything I wrote in 2023 (and that's a lot!) even if it seemed unrelated, was geared towards James's story and the big moment that still lies ahead. However... As I've emphasised several times by now, I didn't account for this girl... So now it's like James said, "We'll have to see."

Coming back to my story brought me so much this year; I went from gameplay-based to story-based and found out how much I truly LOVE writing and how much it helps me, especially now that I'm going through rough times. Encouraged and inspired by someone dear to me, my story gained a title and came to Tumblr in full. I learnt to not only accept the benefits of poses, but how incredibly enhancing they can be to bring my ideas to life when used right. I reconnected with old contacts and made new connections too, some of whom proved to be true friends outside of this Tumblr/Sims world too. I've loved getting caught up on the stories I used to follow and discovering new ones. I've been amazed at how good CC has become in five years and pleasantly surprised to see there's still a good crowd playing TS3 in addition to the great things some of you are doing with TS4. All of this has been bright spots in my darkness.

And now we're entering 2024. I hope it will be light and bright for all of us. May the good days outnumber the bad ones and may we continue to feel the joy these little pixel-people bring us. Happy New Year to you and yours.

Much love. ❤️

-Kim

P.s. I know, I know; Some of you are now very disappointed you didn't get to see James and Sadie "making the night count." Just for all of you filthy animals I have one more post in this non-canon series set to go. Be forewarned; this one is very NSFW (And Not Suitable To View At New Year's Parties With Lots Of People Around) and will be labelled mature. I also have a sneaking suspicion it'll take Tumblr about 3 seconds to take it down, so I have an alternative post with Pillowfort link waiting in the wings. Going live as the the New Year hits where I am, at midnight GMT+1. See them making the night count by clicking here!

[dearchloe]

seventh daughter

All characters are 18+

She came back for me on my eighteenth birthday, and I watched from my bedroom window as she crossed the moor, her long staff in her left hand and her black cloak whipping in the wind.

It wasn't a common profession for women. Anything too closely aligned with things that went bump in the night was a bad idea, generally, if you wanted to avoid accusations of witchcraft. A sad irony for the people who spent their lives fighting against dark magic across the whole of the countryside.

She didn't knock at the door, but opened it and walked straight in, as was the custom. Mum and Dad were already in the kitchen in any case, wearing their Sunday best and sharing the kind of long silences which said more than any conversation could. They'd done all the talking that they had to do in any case, with long arguments that stretched on through the night and into the early hours whilst I lay in bed with the covers over my head, not daring to move too much in case they realised I was still awake.

I was their way of settling a debt, paying off a bill incurred before I was born — a ghost, removed from our barn twenty years ago, not by the woman now banging the farmhouse door behind her but by her predecessor, or even her predecessor's predecessor.

It wasn't a profession with a long lifespan, either. Which was presumably why they had to resort to unconventional ways of filling their ranks.

The murmur of voices rose up to me through the floorboards, and I stood, looking at myself in the small stained mirror which was all I had been able to scavenge for my bedroom, and not recognising the face that looked back at me.

Seventh sons of seventh sons, seventh daughters of seventh daughters. Those were the rules, and one more reason that the men and women in black cloaks who held the line against the forces of darkness struggled to recruit new members.

Which had posed my parents a problem, because, eighteen years ago, the midwife had handed me to my mother and she'd found that to her six sons and three daughters, she'd added a fourth daughter.

They were honest people, by and large, but there were limits to how far they were prepared to go in settlement of their debts, and evidently I was the limit. Unfortunately, being neither a seventh son nor, exactly, a seventh daughter, I wasn't even eligible for the profession to which I was being sacrificed. But evidently that was a problem for me to deal with, and fairly imminently at that.

"Casper!" my mother's voice came up the stairs. "Casper, can you come down?"

I took a breath, eyed my weirdly shorn reflection for one last time — God, I was missing my hair — and went down the stairs.

Miss Charles was sitting at the table with a cup of tea in front of her while my parents sat, hands folded on the table, not quite making eye contact with her or with each other. It took me a minute to recognise the cup, but I suddenly realised it was one of the ones my mother had inherited from Gran and kept shut in the kitchen dresser every day, except for Christmas, when we were allowed to use them under strict instructions not to cause any damage. For some reason I couldn't quite put my finger on, it sent a hot flash of anger through me.

It was the first time I'd seen her up close, without her hood, and she was younger than I'd expected. Though I wasn't sure why, I'd always thought of those people as being elderly — now that I came to think of it, few of them survived into middle age. At a guess, Miss Charles was in her twenties, and surprisingly pretty in the wan November light filtering through the kitchen window. I took a deep breath and did my best to remember that I was supposed to be a boy as I strode across the kitchen and held out my hand to her.

Striding wasn't something I'd tried before, and I wasn't convinced that I'd made a success of it, from the way she looked at me, but she did take my hand and shake it with a grip that told me, if I hadn't known already, that this was not a woman to be trifled with.

"Well, Master Jackson. You're to come with me, I hear." Her eyes were blue and piercing, and I shifted a little uncomfortably before her gaze.

"Mister Jackson." I did my best to sound assertive. "I'm eighteen today."

"Indeed." She sipped her tea, and I tried not to show my relief as her eyes dropped away from mine. "They call you Casper?"

"Cass."

Normally, it was short for Cassandra, but I was going to have to get used to the change.

"Cass," she repeated. "Are you ready?"

"I've packed a bag."

"Good. Best go and get it, then."

In an awkward silence, I returned upstairs and collected the neat leather bag from the end of my bed. By the time I was back in the kitchen, Miss Charles was gone, visible by the gate through the open kitchen door, and my parents were standing uncomfortably by the fireplace. I shook hands with my dad, hugged my mum, muttered a few empty promises about writing letters and visiting, and then I was walking down the path towards my future.

Somehow, I couldn't seem to realise that this was me leaving home, the noisy chaos of my siblings and parents, the farmyard and the stream, the milkman calling each morning and the sound of the church bells in the village. It was probably for the best.

"Well, Mister Jackson," she greeted me as I reached the gate. "Ready?"

"Yes, miss."

"Splendid." She gave me a brief nod, raised her hood, and set off in the opposite direction to that from which she'd come. I paused for a moment, then, on the basis that she ought to know where she was going, I followed her.

"Question?"

"Not exactly," I puffed. Her stride was longer than it looked, and she was clearly used to walking long distances quickly. I was certainly not unfit after a lifetime of farm chores, but my boots were heavy and so was my bag, and this sort of walking was something new to me. I was quickly to realise that the leisurely countryman's stride would have no place in my new career. "I was just thinking... Wondering, I mean. Don't you live the other way?"

"I do." She nodded to me, the rise and fall of her staff not slowing. "But we've got a little job to do in the village before we set off that way, and you might as well know what you're going to be in for."

"Oh, I see." After that, I fell silent, all too glad to give my energy to keeping up with Miss Charles' pace, and it seemed a very short time later that we were coming to a stop in front of the vicarage.

The local priest was a kind enough man, as far as I knew, but he was also decidedly fierce when he felt inclined, and I'd been on the wrong side of him often enough to be nervous in his presence. I kept slightly behind my new mentor, therefore, as we made our way up to the front door, and I stayed there as she waited, leaning on her staff a little more heavily than perhaps she should have needed to given her youth. When the door opened at last, I relaxed a little; it was only the priest's elderly housekeeper standing there, a cloth in one hand, and with an expression on her face which I would soon come to recognise — the mixture of relief and dread that Miss Charles and all her colleagues (and, I supposed, me now) inspired in their clients.

"Oh, miss, I'm that glad to see you!" she exclaimed, stepping to one side and ushering us inside. "It's not what the master would like, I know, and I'm sorry for that, but he will go away, and what am I to do, I'd like to know? I can't put up with such goings-on, not until he gets back, and with no one closer than Father Woodward at Shepridge, and him not a well man..."

Miss Charles threw back her hood as she passed through into the hallway, and I noted how the light caught the reddish tint of her hair as I followed her, a little awkwardly, into the house. "I'm sure you've done the right thing, Mrs Gamp. But it's probably best for us to be alone now. This is our business. Is there somewhere you could stay?"

The housekeeper hovered, wringing her hands. "I could go to my sister. She's just at the other end of the village. But I don't know that I ought to, I'm not sure that the master..."

"It would really be best." She didn't speak more loudly or sharply than before, but there was a tone in her voice that demanded to be obeyed, and Mrs Gamp was powerless to resist it. Ten minutes later, we had the house to ourselves, and I was following in Miss Charles' footsteps as we made our way through the rooms, though I wasn't quite sure of what we were looking for. Suddenly, she came to a stop — so suddenly, in fact, that I nearly walked into the back of her.

"Do you feel that?"

I concentrated hard. All I felt was hungry, and somehow I didn't think that was what she had in mind, so I shook my head. She looked vaguely disappointed.

"I was hoping you'd sense it. Not sure how I'll teach you; it's always been an instinct for me. Never mind, though, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. It's a sort of... cold tingling."

Again, I shook my head.

"Well, never mind. What that tells you, Mister Jackson, is that there's a ghost in this house. And what are we going to do about it?"

I hazarded a guess. "An exorcism?"

"Oh, no, no. That's what priests do — and most of them are no good at it, either. Don't put your faith in exorcisms, boy. Never trust anything that's more about ritual than hard work. No, we're just going to talk to it."

"Talk to it?"

"That's right. But it won't be along for a while yet. Get some sleep while you can."

I didn't think I'd be able to sleep, and I didn't realise that I had until I was rudely awoken by a feeling like a sudden cold breeze down the back of my neck. I turned over on the hard floor, to find Miss Charles already on her feet with her staff in her hand. She gave me a grim smile, and I scrambled up to join her, looking slightly wildly around the room.

I couldn't see anything at all, and I'd just turned back to my mentor to tell her so when a voice spoke from right behind me.

Let me go, it seemed to say.

And I screamed, and wet myself.

[tinyidle]

Can you do a part two of For the Memories with Dom Yuqi + Strap on?

༻༻༻𝖽𝖺𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾 3 𝗈𝖿 𝗆𝗈𝗆𝗆𝗒!𝗆𝖺𝗒༺༺

hope you enjoy this! and for all the people who were bullying me about another gidle fic, especially you 'userabcxyz', if you don't read and give this fic notes i swear i will.. cry 🥺/j

Stay Focused - SYQ

wc: 1.8k

WARNING: filthy filthy smut, modeling au, friends-with benefits, rough sex, degradation, facesitting, strap-on usage, scissoring, throat fucking, b!g d¡ldo, mommy!yuqi, meandom!yuqi, insatiable!yuqi, sub!reader, dumb!reader, fem reader, fiction ofc

꒦꒷︶︶꒦꒷︶︶︶꒦︶︶꒷꒦

you were asked to help yuqi with phototaking for her magazine shoots. usually she does it alone, but because of your previous encounter regarding a camera, she invited you to one of her shoots for the day.

you, however, couldn't focus as she kept posing in what you considered suggestive poses. with each and every pose suggestion the head photographer showed her, yuqi would somehow jut her hips more, accentuate her legs, and basically pop out her figure. before long, your body had betrayed you and you lost all control. when everyone was taking a five-minute break, you decided to greet the older girl with a kiss on the lips, much to her surprise as she yelped. when you heard your name being called, you immediately pulled away from her.

"what the fuck, man?" yuqi yelled out to you, clearly annoyed from the lipstick smudge on her now pink-stained lips and cheek. "i need you to take help me take pictures for instagram, not get me all messy."

your face reddened once reality sunk in. you realized what you just did. this was supposed to be a favor for your friend. you were supposed to be professional. this wasn't supposed to be something as casual as having sex. "im sorry, yuqi," you swiftly apologized, wiping the smeared gloss off your dry lips. "but you looked too good. you know how distracted i get seeing you. i just couldn't resist." the woman remained unamused as you took out a wipe from your purse and gently removed the smudge of taint from her lips and cheek.

although she was angry at you ruining her makeup, yuqi smirked as she devised a plan. "okay, how about this. if you can compose yourself for the rest of the shoot, when we finish and head to my place, ill reward you. how does that sound?" immediately you nodded, liking the sound of that idea. however, that wasn't enough. "how does that sound, baby?" you blushed deeply before looking down and replying

"yes mommy."

"okay," yuqi confirmed, a wide smile on her beautiful face. "now point that camera on me and stay focused so we can get out off here."

hours passed, yet it seemed like eternity before the shoot finally was over. over time you were soaking your panties more and more as the head photographer suggested even more raunchy poses, as well as the makeup team making her face even sexier than you could ever imagine. once the shoot was thankfully over, you and yuqi went out to eat before going to her place.

yuqi's dorm was big, despite her technically not living alone. when you got in and went to sit down on the couch nearby, yuqi stopped you. "let's go to my room so that i can reward you, hmm?" you nod almost absentmindedly, allowing the taller girl to lead you to her room. yuqi sighed, "speak baby, or else you get no reward."

you gained your voice back to reply to her the best way you could. "yes mommy," you nodded again. yuqi nodded and took your hand.

once inside her room, yuqi sat down on the bed and patted the comforter. "come here, my dirty little girl." when you sheepishly walked over to her, she wrapped her arms around you, pulling you to her lips as she kissed you hungrily. you moaned into her mouth as she lead you both up to stand. it had been a while since you last tasted her, and your hunger was strong.

"mmmm," you hummed in her mouth. after some lovable making out, your friend turned a bit aggressive, pushing you against the wall as she kissed you harder, you struggling to gain consciousness of what was going on. once you finally realized what was happening, your and her clothes were discarded, and you were both back on the bed with her cunt on top of your nose. you were laid underneath her, her core dripping with need. she, however, stayed poker-faced.

as yuqi pulled herself from your lips, she instructed, "put that tongue of yours to good use. i want to feel your warm tongue between my legs again." you obeyed, unable to form words at first before murmuring out a 'yes mommy'. soon enough, her cunt started gushing onto your tongue as she came in your mouth with an audible sigh. as much as you tried to focus on cleaning her slit, her clit kept rubbing against your nose. after a minute of chasing her cunt, you gave up on cleaning her up, releasing a frustrated breath as you pushed yuqi's legs away from each side of your head. yuqi didn't like this, so to her much disappointment, she smacked your thigh. you cried out as she scolded you, "no one told you to stop. now clean me up or else i'll punish you for not following instructions."

you followed through, licking yuqi's cunt clean before sucking her clit into your mouth. although yuqi was caught her off guard by you latching your mouth onto her, she stayed unnerving, only shuddering when she came again. after you did what she wanted and then some, you lay still as yuqi climbed off your face, you knowing that you'll be rewarded now. your eyes fell on the corner of the room that had yuqi's black strap-on laying across it. yuqi noticed you staring at the toy also and smiled. "after tonight, you'll owe me, hm?" you nodded mutely, mouthing a 'fuck me mommy' before smiling widely.

"fuck, i love you," yuqi groaned before picking up the thick toy. she then ordered you to lick the entire length of the dick, savoring the taste of the soft, stark rubber. you sank your mouth onto it, gagging once the tip of it hit your throat. you only had half of it in your small mouth. "that's it," yuqi encouraged you, slowly thrusting the toy in and out of you. "make this dick nice and wet. got to make sure you get it all lubed up for your greedy pussy to take, right baby?" you only hummed in delight as the toy felt more and more slick by the thickness of your saliva on it.

after wetting the strap, you gave it to yuqi, who swiftly wrapped the harness part of it around her hips. you pushed yourself back on the bed, your exposed cunt wet enough to take anything she would give you. once yuqi tightened and secured the harness, she sat on the edge of the bed where you were, pushing the black dildo against your clit. you whimpered slightly, looking up at yuqi. "lie on your back, baby," she instructed, and you did so, propping your legs up a bit.

she spread your thighs open and positioned the dick towards your core, the head already being covered by your juices on it. without hesitation, yuqi sank the entire toy inside you, groaning loudly. "god, you're tight. i hope it doesn't hurt." it didn't hurt at all, however, as you gasped in pleasure from the cock opening you up.

just as you couldn't hold back from kissing her in the magazine shoot, you couldn't hold back moans from the immense intrusion onto your core. as your cunt was getting streched more and more, your exclamation grew incessantly louder. this did not go well with yuqi, with her smacking your breasts. you sobbed at the stinging feeling. "if you don't shut up, i might end up making you scream when i actually start fucking you." you continued whining until she put a finger on your lips. you relaxed under her finger and quickly stopped. "now, stay focused as mommy rewards you."

yuqi thrusted in and out of you slowly at first. with each pass of her cock, you writhed your hips, moaning softly. yuqi then increased the speed of her thrusting until eventually you began shouting yuqi's name. no sooner had you did, yuqi grabbed your cheeks and forced your face towards her own sexy one, her leaning forward so that your noses touched at the tips. she impaled you further and further with each slam of her hips, you throwing your head back each time. it felt like she was ripping you apart and reconstructing you back together again. every. single. time.

in little to no time, you could feel yourself approaching your climax. you didn't want it so soon, however. "wait, i don't want to cum yet." no answer. "no, mommy please!" still no answer. "ugh, yuqiiiii!" you called out to her, a little frustrated. you screamed out yuqi's full name at this point, yet she silenced you, forcing your mouth shut as she lowered herself to suckle on your breasts. you arched your back as the dam that held your juices back broke, with you effectively squirting on her.

yuqi stopped for a while, making sure you catch your breath. when she decided it was safe to continue, yuqi shoved the strap deeper into you and drove her hips impossibly forward, connecting her pelvis with yours like glue. this is when you really cried out loud, profusely cumming hard again. when you were deep into euphoria, yuqi leaned down to bite your neck lightly as she pulled out of your now spent cunt. when she took off the silicon toy back in its rightful spot on the mattress, she turned you on your side. when you looked up, yuqi smiled. "ready to continue?"

you knew exactly what she meant. yuqi would reward you even more; spoil you. that thought spurred you to regain your strength, even though you didn't know if it was going to be enough. you were tired, and yuqi didn't seem to be close to finished. that is until you remembered she said that you owed her. "uh-huh," you nodded weakly.

once yuqi let you gain more stamina, she demanded, "lay down." she moved the comforter around you so that you were now nestled in its middle. she then made you lie down on the pillows. once you did, she knelt between your legs, putting her hands on either side of your chest, positioning her core on your dripping lips as she took the strap back in her hand. "open your mouth, slut."

whimpering from the insulting name, but loving it, you opened wide as yuqi wasted no time sliding her strap-on inside your throat. "good girl," yuqi complimented. she began moving her hand back and forth, gradually increasing the pace of her thrusts inside your mouth. you started bucking your hips upwards, making your lover moan loud as her pace picked up more and more, with her once stilled hips moving as quick as her hand.

it wasn't long until your breathing became heavier and both your orgasms intensified before spilling over, your body moving in rhythm with yuqi's. once you were done, yuqi rolled off you, still panting heavily. "that was hot. you've earned yourself another reward," yuqi announced.

the next thing you know, you were on your back, yuqi's hand reaching for her phone nearby, and a camera flash went off to your now spent body.

[casual-praxis]

“These people seriously aren’t getting it.”

It's Blue! Blue in the Slime Rancher AU! Took me long enough to get to him, but he's here now--and he may or may not be covered in water. Posing is my worst enemy, lemme tell ya. I have two different versions of the same outfit just because I struggled with posing him in character.

He takes some obvious cues from the puddle slimes, but rest assured he's still the same Blue we probably know and love. And by that I mean he's still got a temper. Puddle slimes could never. I also intended for him to have some saber slime inspiration in there as well, but it mostly just manifests as really sharp teeth. Might tweak that in the future.

As per usual, more notes below the cut! :D

+ Blue (and Green) were the last to show up on the shared ranch. Despite arriving together, Blue and Green had only met right before going into stasis sleep on the shuttle. It was just more convenient to send them together.

This resulted in the two being closer to each other in the beginning, though Blue would heavily deny it. Green naturally just gravitated towards Blue as the only other new person there.

+ Speaking of Green, it was his idea for Blue to build an area of his own attached to the mini-Moss Blanket Green was working on. Kinda like a neighbor's situation. Except they still lived together, and Blue was refusing to acknowledge their friendship at that point.

+ Blue is one of the few people fond of the kookadoba fruit. At some point, once he arrives, Ogden (an in-game NPC) trades a few to the Rainbow Ranch through the Ranch Exchange, and Blue ends up demanding to know where to find them.

Blue and Ogden both explore The Wilds in pursuit of the kookadoba fruit, up until Ogden eventually gets to the point where it's too much for him, so a deal is opened between them. Blue continues to collect the fruit, and half of what he finds is traded to Ogden in exchange for spicy tofu. These two are unlikely friends.

+ Blue is the only one who actually knows how to cook, so keeping the others from starving falls to him. It starts out begrudgingly, like, "You guys live like this?? Here, let me show you what you're missing out on so you can cry about it." And then it just goes from there.

Red and Shadow may or may not have laid the praise on thick to keep him cooking for them, but shh, he doesn't have to know. He'll fight anyone who goes into the kitchen now anyway, so clearly, it can't be helped.

+ He has quite a few puddle slimes. They just naturally gravitate towards him when he's nearby, and he's not able to turn them away no matter what he says. Shadow has dubbed him, "The Puddle King," and regularly refers to him that way when talking about him on stream.

Puddles slimes are what got Blue to actually consider staying on the ranch. They need meticulous care and attention, but with Vio's help, he's pretty much perfected the art of taking care of them.

+ Blue only wears one glove so he can make contact with his slimes directly. They respond better that way and rough fabric stresses them out. From what he's discovered, they like smooth textures, like skin.

+ He tries so hard to pretend he doesn't care about the others, but he's not fooling anyone. He fistfought a tarr once because it was trying to attack Shadow (influences will be influences lmao), and that's not to mention all the times he's patched up Red after an explosion, or dragged Vio out of his lab to eat or sleep.

Green teases him relentlessly about it.

+ He doesn't talk much about his family, but from what he has said, the others get the vibe he doesn't like them. All they know is that he's out there with them because of some deal regarding inheritance. The details are unknown, and he'd like to leave it that way.

(Bonus: here's that alternate pose I was talking about. You can't see the little bubble keychain or his pouch ((full of medical supplies and one rubber duck)), but they are still intended to be there.)

(His design might be subject to change, I'm not sure how happy I actually am with it yet.)

[ninani06]

— If you failed the test again, i'll always teach you.

[ Isara Mao x f!reader ]

____________________________________________

Isara Mao, the diligent student council president and one of the top students in his class, sat awkwardly in his childhood friend's room. His gaze fell upon the paper in his hand—a glaring red "57" scrawled across the top corner.

A sheepish chuckle escaped his lips, an uncharacteristic sound of uncertainty. He glanced up from the paper to you, his sharp green eyes softening as he took in your nervous demeanor. You sat across from him, avoiding his gaze, your fingers fidgeting with the edge of your sleeve.

“So, uh... this is a surprise,” Mao finally broke the silence, a tentative grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Care to explain?"

You quickly slap your hands together in an apologetic pose. “I swear I studied so many times, but some of these questions just don’t make sense to me!”

The boy with his mangenta hair let out a soft sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. He knew all too well about your struggles with math. Year after year, you’d scrape by—thanks only to his patient tutoring. Without him, you’d probably still be stuck retaking the same grade.

Reaching into his bag, Isara Mao retrieved his pencil case with a resigned smile. “Alright, let me take a look at your mistakes. I’ll explain where you went wrong.”

His words brought a delighted smile to your face. Before he could react, you grabbed his hand, causing him to jolt. “Thank you, Mao!” you exclaimed.

Before he could reply, you jumped to your feet, heading for the door. “Wait here! I’ll grab us some snacks!” you chirped, and with a cheerful slam of the door, you left the room.

Alone, Mao stared at the door, his heart still pounding. Slowly, he raised the hand you had held to his face, feeling a faint blush creep across his cheeks. With a sigh that carried equal parts exasperation and fondness, he muttered under his breath, “How am I supposed to focus now...?”

Even though the two of you had been childhood friends for as long as you could remember, holding hands had once been a casual, natural gesture between you. But as the years passed, those moments became fewer and far between.

He had embarked on the busy path of becoming an idol, while you poured your energy into studying to become a producer. Life had grown more complicated. Gone were the days of easily holding hands in school hallways or strolling together on the streets.

Now, such things felt too risky—his friends would tease him endlessly if they caught him, and it might even raise eyebrows among his fans.

But, truth be told, there was another reason. Mao had developed a crush on you. Yes, a crush—the classic, heart-fluttering kind that a high school boy, student council president, and rising idol like Isara Mao probably shouldn’t have had... yet couldn’t stop himself from feeling.

It was unspoken and entirely one-sided—at least from his perspective. You were far too oblivious to notice the way his gaze lingered when you weren’t looking, or how he would find small excuses to spend time with you.

In fact, almost everyone at school seemed to have picked up on it. They’d tease you sometimes, jokingly hinting at Mao’s feelings. But to their amusement (and his frustration), you were always too innocent to understand what they meant.

To Mao, it was equal parts endearing and agonizing. How could someone so sharp in their ambitions be so utterly clueless when it came to his heart?

The door opened, revealing you balancing a tray piled high with snacks and drinks. Mao couldn’t help but sweatdrop at the sight. “You didn’t have to bring so much! We’re only going to be studying for a little while,” he said, his tone laced with exasperation.

You sat down beside him—a move that caught him off guard—your carefree grin in full view. “But I’m hungry! Is that okay?” you replied with a lighthearted shrug.

Mao let out a small laugh, his expression softening as he reached out to ruffle your hair. “Alright, fine. Just promise me you’ll eat slowly, okay?” He knew you all too well. Your habit of wolfing down food so quickly that no one could see where it had gone never ceased to amaze him.

“I know, I know! I’m all grown up now, remember?” you said with a playful pout as you began opening one of the snacks and setting everything on the table.

Mao let out a quiet sigh, shaking his head. “Sure, ‘grown up,’” he murmured under his breath, his green eyes flickering with amusement. But as he watched your carefree manner, a pang of helpless hit him. For someone who proudly claimed they’d grown up, how could you be so oblivious to love?

He rested his cheek against his palm, hiding the faint blush creeping onto his face. “Rare doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he thought to himself.

The two of you finally turned your attention to the task at hand. Mao patiently walked you through each problem, explaining the answers and solutions step by step to ensure you understood. You, in turn, diligently took notes, scribbling tips and explanations into your notebook with determination.

“What if I fail the test again...?” you muttered under your breath, the words slipping out before you even realized it.

Mao paused mid-sentence, his gaze lifting to meet yours. For a moment, there was silence, and then a gentle smile crept across his face.

“If you fail the test again,” he said softly, “I’ll keep teaching you until you get it.”

His voice was steady, filled with unwavering sincerity. He knew the consequences—more hours of tutoring, more teasing from his friends, and even more tests to prepare you for. But none of that mattered to him.

What mattered was that he could be there for you. That he could help, support, and—just maybe—see your bright, radiant smile when you finally succeeded.

The session continued as Mao patiently explained problem after problem, his voice steady and calm. Time slipped by, and an hour had already passed. Lost in his teaching, it took him a moment to realize just how quiet the room had grown—too quiet.

Turning to check on you, Mao’s words caught in his throat. You had fallen asleep, your head resting on your hand, your features softened in peaceful slumber.

Mao couldn’t help but smile. He had seen this happen every single time he tutored you. It was almost like a routine—your energy slowly fading as he explained, until you finally drifted off.

Leaning his cheek on his palm, Mao allowed himself a moment to admire your face. His expression softened further, though he let out a tiny sigh. "I probably look like a stalker right now," he thought, shaking his head at himself. But even so, he couldn’t look away.

It was rare for him to see you like this—or at all, lately. With his idol duties keeping him busy and your own studies taking up most of your time, your interactions at school were few and fleeting.

The only times he saw you were brief lunches or when you stopped by the student council room under some playful excuse. Moments like these, where he could just be with you, felt fleeting and precious.

Your elbow slipped, causing your head to fall from your palm. Mao’s reflexes kicked in as his hand darted out, catching the side of your head just in time.

He let out a sigh of relief, his heart racing as he steadied you. "That was close," he murmured to himself. If he hadn’t caught you, you would’ve ended up with a sore head—or worse.

Knowing he couldn’t keep this position for long, Mao glanced around and spotted a pillow nearby. With his free hand, he carefully grabbed it and placed it on the table.

Gently, he guided your head onto the soft surface, making sure you were comfortable before slowly pulling his hand away. Once free, he pressed that hand to his chest, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “I almost had a heart attack,” he muttered, his cheeks tinged pink.

Looking at you, still peacefully asleep, he felt his shoulders relax. A small smile graced his lips as he moved to tidy up. He gathered your scattered notebook and pencil case, placing them neatly to the side.

As he arranged your things, he noticed your notebook filled with notes, your handwriting scattered all over the pages. Mao paused for a moment, running his fingers lightly over the paper.

A sense of pride swelled in his chest. You had been listening carefully, trying your best to understand and improve. It wasn’t perfect, but the effort you put in was unmistakable.

A quiet sense of pride welled up within him as he took in the effort you’d poured into understanding the material. It wasn’t perfect, but every detail showed how determined you were to improve.

The magenta-haired boy rested his arms on the table, laying his head on them as he quietly admired your peaceful, sleeping face. His hand reached out absentmindedly, gently grabbing a strand of your hair and twirling it between his fingers.

Your hair was soft, and its familiar lavender scent reached him—the signature fragrance of your favorite flower and the shampoo you always used. He smiled faintly, the nostalgic smell soothing him in a way only you could.

Bringing the strand closer, Mao carefully tucked it back into place before pressing a gentle kiss to it. He closed his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the fleeting act, before opening them again to look at your face.

His heart beat faster as a thought crossed his mind. Shifting slightly, he leaned closer, his face mere inches from yours. A flush spread across his cheeks, but he couldn’t stop himself.

With careful precision, Mao kissed your cheek. The kiss was brief soft, simple, and warm. As he pulled back, his chest felt tight, his heart thudding wildly. It wasn’t much, but to him, it was enough. That small, quiet moment was everything he needed.

Quickly returning to his original position, Mao crossed his arms on the table and rested his head again. Letting out a tired yawn, he slowly began to drift off to sleep.

Unbeknownst to him, your eyes fluttered open. The warmth on your cheek lingered, and you instinctively reached up to touch the spot, your face turning pink. You had been awake for just long enough to see everything.

Your gaze fell on Mao’s peaceful sleeping face, his soft breaths steady and calm. A quiet laugh escaped you as you moved closer, your blush deepening. Leaning in, you gently kissed his cheek, mirroring his earlier action.

Pulling back, you whispered, “Dummy...” with a fond smile. Your fingers lightly brushed through his magenta locks, fixing stray strands so you could see his face more clearly.

“Next time... do it more carefully,” you murmured softly, your heart fluttering as you watched him sleep. A quiet giggle followed, and you stayed there for a moment longer, admiring him.

[littlest-w01f]

Chapter Eleven

Series Masterlist

Cw: None

By the time Rheana returned to the townhouse, the sun was high overhead, casting long shadows across the cobblestone streets. Her attire was dishevelled from her encounter with the dead general, but her eyes glowed with satisfaction and triumph. Azriel was waiting for her at the entrance of their home, worry etching lines onto his handsome face.

"Are you alright?" he asked immediately, concern lacing each word. He reached out a hand towards her, holding her by her waist, pulling her into the chambers, noting her hands covered in blood.

A smile formed on her face despite what she had done, perhaps because of it, since using her powers energized her in mere seconds. Rheana nodded slowly, taking a moment to catch her breath before speaking. "As good as can be expected," she replied quietly, pushing past him into the house. She made her way straight to the kitchen, needing something strong to drink.

Azriel followed close behind, watching her every move with a protective eye. "What happened? Did you get what you needed?" His voice was steady, not showing any of his feelings. But his shadows that tried to reach for her told her plenty of how nervous he was, wanting to make sure that she was alright

Rheana poured herself a glass of whiskey, gulping it down in one swift motion. The alcohol burned her throat, but it felt good, numbing the edges of her sanity. The burn felt good, a welcome sensation after the darkness she had delved into. "I got what I needed," she confirmed, pouring herself another glass. "The bastard knew nothing about the invasion plans, but he spilled plenty about the Cauldron's location, the king of Hybern has it, along with the feet."

"You should've seen his face when I brought him back," she said, a hint of amusement colouring her voice. "Pure terror. It was exquisite."

Azriel watched her pour another glass, this time allowing her to fill it to the brim before setting it down on the counter. He stepped closer, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You're sure you're okay?" he asked again, concern evident in his voice.

Rheana sighed, the surge of power rushing in her blood, "Yes, I'm more than okay..." Rheana sipped the straight whiskey, "The power isn't too much anymore."

Azriel's brows furrowed slightly at her words, sensing the subtle shift in her demeanour. He knew all too well the struggles she had faced in mastering her abilities, the danger they posed if left unchecked. "That's good to hear," he said, attempting to sound reassuring. "But remember, we're always here to help you manage it." He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze before stepping back, giving her space to process her experience. "Now, tell me more about this general. What did you learn?"

"Hybern has the Cauldron, and the legs from the temples where they were hidden," Rheana took her glass and took a seat across the couch, her back rested against on armrest and her legs hanging off the other.

Azriel's brow furrowed, his shadows rubbing small circles on her shoulder. "Are you good?" he asked softly, his gaze searching hers for any sign of distress. "Remember, you don't have to handle everything alone. We're here for you, always."

Rheana looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, she knew he meant himself and his shadows. She set the glass down, turning to face him fully. Her hand slid up his chest, her fingers tracing the lines of his muscles, her darkness playing with his shadows. "I know," she whispered, her voice husky with want. "And I appreciate it. But sometimes, the darkness inside me needs to be fed, and there's no one better suited to do that than myself."

Azriel sighed slightly, feeling her power through him, "Your darkness doesn't eat you alive anymore?" He asked softly, he was a shadowsinger, the dark sang to him the way it danced to her tunes, that's why they worked, as friends, as the benefits they shared centuries ago when they were young.

Rheana shook her head, her hair cascading around her shoulders. "No, it doesn't," she assured him. "It still craves, but it no longer consumes. And that's progress, right?"

For years now, ever since she had first begun to grasp the true extent of her powers. They had developed a peculiar symbiosis, Azriel providing a conduit for her darkness while she in turn kept his shadows in check. It was a delicate balance, one that required constant communication and understanding between them, but it worked. And so, as Rheana sat beside him now, her fingers trailing over his chest, he knew exactly what she wanted even before she spoke the words, shadows making arrangement for her to rest.

"And what would you need, Rhea?" He asked, his voice low and smooth as silk. His shadows coiled around her, eager to please her darkness, attracted to it after her extensive use of it, while his physical form remained relaxed, basking in the warmth of her touch.

"Sleep... I need to sleep." Rheana sighed, setting the empty glass of whiskey down.

As she slept, her mind wandered freely, creating vivid images and scenarios. In this particular dream, she found herself standing by the riverbank, looking at the young fae male, sitting by the riverside, his long flowing red hair catching the sunlight and making it glow like fire. His amber eyes were focused intently on the water, lost in thought.

He was dressed simply, his clothes made from the finest materials, yet worn and faded from countless days spent outdoors. His posture was relaxed, but there was an air of tension around him, almost as if he carried the weight of the world on his slender shoulders.

His skin was pale his hands were clasped tightly together, knuckles white with the force of his grip. Every once in a while, he would run a hand through his fiery mane, a nervous habit.

Despite his apparent solitude, there was a sense of loneliness surrounding him, a palpable aura of isolation. It seemed as though he was waiting for something, or maybe running away from something. Either way, he appeared to be deeply troubled, his thoughts far away from the serene surroundings.

His presence stirred something within Rheana, a feeling she couldn't quite place. A part of her yearned to approach him, to offer comfort or perhaps find solace in his company. Yet, there was also a sense of caution, a fear of disrupting his solitude.

As Rheana watched the young fae from afar, she felt an inexplicable pull towards him. It was as if their fates were intertwined, despite never having met. She could sense the turmoil brewing within him, the pain and sorrow etched onto his face.

A part of her wanted to reach out, to offer him the comfort and solace she knew he desperately craved. Yet, another part of her cautioned against it, fearing that her presence might only serve to disturb his fragile peace.

Despite the conflicting emotions swirling within her, Rheana found herself drawn closer, her footsteps silent on the grassy bank. She hesitated for a moment, her heart pounding in her chest, before finally taking a seat beside him, careful not to startle him.

As Rheana reached out to touch the fae's shoulder, her hand passed through him as if he weren't there. The sensation was jarring, leaving her momentarily disoriented. She pulled her hand back quickly, looking at it as if expecting to see some sort of evidence of her attempt. But there was nothing, just her own warm flesh, unmarked and untouched.

The fae didn't seem to notice her presence, remaining seated and seemingly unaware of her attempts to communicate with him. His focus remained fixed on the river, his troubled expression unchanged. Rheana's confusion grew, along with a hint of frustration.

Rheana woke up with a start, her heart racing and her skin drenched in sweat. She sat up abruptly, her dark surroundings slowly coming into focus. The room was shrouded in an inky blackness, her own personal brand of darkness seeping from every corner, coating the walls and furniture in its oppressive embrace. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and decay, a tangible manifestation of her inner demons.

As she took in the sight of her room, Rheana felt a wave of unease wash over her. This was not normal. Her darkness usually stayed contained, a manageable part of her existence rather than an all-consuming entity.

With practiced ease, Rheana sat cross-legged on her bed, focusing on her breathing. Inhaling, she allowed the strange images from her dream to fill her mind. Exhaling, she pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the calming rhythm of her own heartbeat. Again, she inhaled, feeling her power respond to her mental command. Exhaling, she felt the darkness recede, retreating back into the corners of her mind where it belonged.

After several cycles of this meditative practice, Rheana opened her eyes, feeling refreshed and renewed. Her mind was clearer, the oppressive darkness that had engulfed her room earlier now reduced to a mere shadow. The familiar pattern of her bedroom was restored, the comforting scents of lavender and vanilla filling the air once more.

With a satisfied sigh, Rheana stood up, stretching her arms above her head. She felt lighter, freer, as if the burden of her darkness had been temporarily lifted. She walked over to the window, pushing aside the curtains to reveal the moonlit night outside. The stars twinkled like diamonds against the inky blackness of space, a stark contrast to the darkness that lurked within her own soul.

As she gazed out at the celestial display, Rheana's mind wandered back to the dream she had experienced. The young fae with the fiery mane and amber eyes haunted her thoughts.

The following day, Rheana kept mostly to herself, preferring the quiet solitude of her own company over the hustle and bustle of court life. While Feyre and Rhysand ventured to The Prison to visit the bone carver.

The following day offered a much-needed respite from the chaos of the previous days, Rheana spent most of her time alone reading.

"Amren's right," Rhys drawled, as he returned with Feyre, to Rheana, Azrial, Cassian and Mor sitting around. "You are like dogs, waiting for me to come home. Maybe I should buy treats."

Cassian flipped him off from where he lounged on the couch his arm slung over the back behind Mor. There was a tightness to his muscles as he sat, waiting expectantly.

With a chuckle, Rheana set her book aside, leaning comfortably against Azriel as she listened to Rhysand recount his afternoon adventures. She rolled her eyes at his comment about being treated like a pet, but couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. Cassian's antics brought a laugh from her, her amusement evident in the twinkle in her eyes. Rheana leaned against Azriel, Mor spoke, "How'd it go?"

"The Bone Carver," Rhysand scoffed, "Is a busybody gossip who likes to pry into other people’s business far too much."

Rheana snorted, "What else is new?"

"But?" Cassian asked, bracing his arms on his knees, wings tucked in tight.

"But, he can also be helpful, when he chooses. And it seems we need to start doing what we do best." Rhysand then told them everything, and Rheana added to it, with everything she had learned from the Hybern general.

"Wasn't the general dead?" Feyre whispered when Rheana did.

Rhysand smiled, "My dear sister practicies necromancy."

Rheana gave a shrug as if it was the most normal thing as Feyre gapped at her with an open mouth.

As the conversation continued, Rheana found herself growing increasingly intrigued by Rhysand's account of their visit to The Prison. She couldn't help but wonder what secrets the bone carver held. "I can't imagine anyone wanting to share their darkest secrets with him," she commented, shaking her head in disbelief.

After Rhysand was done, Azriel got up, "I'll contact my sources in the Summer Court about where the half of the Book of Breathings is hidden. I can fly into the human world myself to figure out where they’re keeping their part of the Book before we ask them for it."

"No need," Rhysand denied. "And I don’t trust this information, even with your sources, with anyone outside of this room. Save for Amren."

"They can be trusted," Azriel took his words as an insult on himself.

"We should not be taking risks here," Rheana rested her hand on his shoulder, rubbing gently to calm his tense shoulder.

Azriel paused, looking down at Rheana's touch, his shadows soothing, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He appreciated her gentle touch, the way she understood him without needing to say anything. "Thank you," he murmured, giving her shoulder a quick squeeze in return.

He turned back to Rhysand, his voice steady despite the tension that lingered in the room. "I understand. But I won't sit idly by while you risk yourself unnecessarily."

"I'm aware of that," Rhysand replied, his tone firm yet laced with a hint of warmth. "That's why you're my spymaster. Now, let's discuss how we're going to find the rest of the Book of Breathings."

With that, the discussion turned towards strategy and planning.

"So what do you have planned?" Mor cut in as Rhys picked ay his fighting leathers. When he lifted his head, his violet eyes were icy.

"The King of Hybern sacked one of our temples to get a missing piece of the Cauldron. As far as I’m concerned, it’s an act of war—an indication that His Majesty has no interest in wooing me." Rhysand's voice was cold, his gaze icy as he stared at nothing in particular.

"He likely remembers our allegiance to the humans in the War, anyway," Cassian spoke. "He wouldn’t jeopardize revealing his plans while trying to sway you, and I bet some of Amarantha’s cronies reported to him about Under the Mountain. About how it all ended, I mean."

"Then let us give him exactly what he wants." Rheana said, a dangerous edge creeping into her voice. "We'll take the fight to him. Starting with retrieving the Book of Breathing."

Then the discussion started, of how they would retrieve the halves of the books, one with Tarquin in the Summer Court, the other in the mortal realm with the Queens

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