#which is soo neat

[turtleplushi]

I need to stop drawing them my god

[icewindandboringhorror]

One of the interesting bits of trying to resume working on the game after so long is looking back at my ancient Draft Placeholder versions of an image from 4 yrs ago trying to remember what the hell I meant back then, to hopefully interpret it into some more final (ish..) form of the same thing .. making slow progress lol

[phantom-peachie]

me, through tears: Cadence of Hyrule is actually really fun ,,

[amelikos]

Spinel.

[goat-and-a-pig]

that moment you realize that the Gravity Falls timeline fucked up again

[intertexts-moving]

ok literally ill over this game & im. two hours in. should i start p5 posting a year late.

[izeas-null]

new laptop is pretty neat so far

unless i unplug it

then it runs at like 20% the speed it does plugged in

the whole reason i bought a laptop doesn't even fucking work

fuck

fuck

fuck

fuck

[aria0fgold]

Yaknow what, I'm just gonna treat Yume Nikki as a type of game I can only play for a short time everyday to enjoy everything in it.

[spin-in-time]

If you prefer the newer seasons of ninjago over the older seasons (pilot-s5/s7) we are fundamentally different people

[aroace-polyshow]

oh yeah theropy day

[mokeonn]

Hey since part 1 of the mlp sims 2 house is done, I posted all the original sketches and the process in making the whole thing on my patreon. It's available for patrons to view so if you like it, consider giving a dollar to support me and see more sketches of horses and stuff

[vinylbiohazard]

THIS ISN'T FUN!! (<- having a great time) NONE OF THEM HAVE EVER HAD A GOOD TIME!!

hey so all for the game reading is going great (WHY ARE THEY PUTTING NEIL THROUGH THIS) ^_^

For fun :)

[thelov3lybookworm]

Replaced

Summary: Rhysand thinks Azriel has become oldand deserves rest. And while Azriel loves his friend a lot, who the hell does he think he is telling Azriel what to do? The apprentice Rhysand has ordered Azriel to train isn't lessening his frustration either.

•○●⛦●○•

Word count: 1697

Warnings: azzie being a thirsty teenager, reader being sassy, azzie deciding he wants to be a flirty lil hoe lol

A/n: JDVNJDMSNCSDMCN OMGGG I LOVE YALL SOO MUCH I CANT TELL YOU HOW HAPPY I AM RN 😭😭😭 as a thank you gift for you all being so nice and supportive of me for over a year now, i present to youuuu my first fir for the celebration week hehe hope you all enjoyyy 🤭

p.s: I WOULD LIKE TO SAY THIS HERE AS WELL EVEN THO I THINK IVE SAID THIS BEFORE IN PRIVATE TO MY WIFEY POO. @berryzxx THANK YOU MY LOVE MY LIFE FOR LISTENING TO ME RANT ABOUT ALL THE FICS I EVER WRITE BUT ALSO ESPECIALLY THE CELEBRATION FICS AND HELPING ME COME UP WITH IDEAS🥹

p.p.s: based on an indian song i used to listen t nonstop which me and berry concluded i should not have been listening to lmaooo like what even was that 😭

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Any questions?"

Y/n shook her head, eyes fixed on the neat scribbles on the pristine white paper in her hands, going through the schedule handed to her for the tenth time.

"Perfect then," the high lord muttered, leaning forward, his elbows resting on the mahogany wood of the table in his office. "Be on time for your training, starting tomorrow. You know, my spymaster is a rule follower and hates tardiness."

Y/n dipped her head, finally meeting the glittering violet of her new employer, essentially.

She stood, knowing she was dismissed, and fell into a deep bow. "Thank you for this opportunity again, my lord. I might not be a shadowsinger, but I will prove to be an amazing spy."

"Looking forward to working with you, Y/n. Hope you will live up to your reputation."

As Y/n now stood in the training ring, sweat rolling down her body in rivulets, she wished she had asked Rhysand more questions about his spymaster. For starters, she should have asked if the male was a grown adult or a terrifying toddler.

Because by the way the high lord had sung praises in the illyrian’s name, talking about how patient, composed and kind he was, Y/n would have assumed he would be a pleasure to work with.

The overgrown manchild she had been training with was anything but.

As she stared into his hazel eyes, trying not to snap his pretty neck, Y/n wondered if he had serious personality disorder or he was going through some sort of mood swing. Because the male glaring down at her panting form was not the sweet, caring and soft spoken male Y/n had envisioned.

"You still have three laps left, and then hand to hand combat. Or are you as forgetful as you are untrained?"

Y/n straightened her back, her mouth shut tight as she released a frustrated breath through her nose. "I know how many laps are left, thank you very much. I am not old enough to forget things, especially not old enough to be replaced by someone better and younger."

His eyes flashed, his shadows thickening. The side of Y/n’s lips kicked up in satisfaction. Her remarks had found their mark. Without waiting for whatever words he was going to throw at her next, Y/n turned away, sprinting her way through the barely visible dirt path around the training ring.

He looked murderous the next time her eyes met his, but at least he wasn't yelling at her to speed up or your posture is shit.

Even though he put her through hell for the rest of the afternoon, it all passed in a blur, because the moment he turned away from her, his hands flicking in a dismissive gesture, she stalked over to the water station and gulped down two glasses of water.

In that moment, only she existed, the glass attached to her mouth and her parched throat weeping with joy.

Mother, thank you for giving us mere peasants water.

When she was done, she moved to retrieve her jacket discarded near the exit, only to find Azriel still present, now conversing in furious whispers with the Warlord.

Y/n had no interest in engaging with them, and by the way the general glanced at her, worry written all over his face, she knew he would try to corner her.

Swiftly, she picked up her jacket, slung it over her shoulders and began retreating towards where the two illyrians stood, hoping to sneak out of the space they weren’t blocking off when she heard their low voices.

"Still, you’re being too harsh Azriel-"

"If she wanted to be a spy for Rhys, she has to go through this training-"

"She’s already trained to be a spy, Az. quit being an asshole."

"If this is too hard for her and if she is going to go cry about it, then she doesn’t deserve this position."

Y/n stopped and turned to look at the bastard, who had the audacity to stare back with his eyebrows raised.

"Yes?" He grumbled, impatience rolling off him in waves, as if he couldn’t wait to be out of her presence.

She let her eyes wander as she studied the illyrian with the red siphons, then back to Azriel. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Rhys has already discussed the time with you, has he not?"

"Aww, no need to get snappy, princess. I’m just making sure you are not backing out." she pouted, fluttering her lashes before turning away, grinning in triumph at the way his face turned red in anger.

Oh, was she going to have pleasant dreams tonight.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Azriel’s pov.

It had been a week since the fae female started training under Az, and he was beginning to lose hope.

He had put her through as much turmoil as he could, both mentally and physically. Still, she seemed determined to work for Rhys.

Maybe she only cared to prove Az wrong and stay, maybe she just wanted to annoy the fuck out of him.

Whatever the reason, she was resilient.

He put her through hours upon hours of gruelling work in the afternoon heat, yelled at her every chance he got, tried to get under her skin when he knew she would be most tired and likely to snap, put her through every torturous and unnecessary task under the sun. But still, she did not snap once.

Not once did Azriel think she was going to leave, not once did she threaten to leave, not once did she go to Rhys to ask him whether her training was supposed to be this gruelling when she was already trained from Prythian’s best spy training institution.

He was not going to pretend it did not make him respect her. Day by day, his curiosity increased, he wanted to know why she was still training under him, even though he did everything he could to bully her away.

And he was not going to pretend like it did not make him want to get to know her, maybe get closer, because he could not remember the last time a female had piqued his interest to this level.

He could feel it.

Feel himself falling, but of course, like the thick skulled bastard he was, he refused to accept the fact that his respect for her resilience was more than just that.

Sure, she made him wish for a taste, but he was not going to admit that.

He could already hear her soft pants as he got closer to the training area, his lips lifting on the corners unconsciously.

She was standing opposite one of the training dummies, honed in on the battered thing. It seemed like everything else had ceased to exist, like she couldn’t care less about anything going around her as she swung her sword at the dummy, again and again.

Her focus, the determination with which she trained even though her trainer wasn’t present…

It was hot.

She was hot.

She would probably have a sassy remark on her tongue if she knew the thoughts in his head, but she looked like she did not even realise he had arrived-

"Stop looking at my ass. And You’re late."

He glanced up, his eyes travelling slowly over her form as she turned to face him, her hands wrapped around the sword he had made her practice with yesterday. Her chest heaved, her shoulders moving along, the few strands of hair that had escaped her ponytail, that smug smile on her lips…

And her eyes. They shone with delight at having caught him being tardy.

Deep down, it warmed him, but on the surface, his lips shifted into a sneer.

"I think this is enough training-"

She let out a laugh. "What?"

He stared at her, unamused.

"Sorry, it’s just… Do you have a fever?"

He sighed as she stepped forward, slapping away the hand she reached out to touch his forehead.

"If you want to continue, I have no problems. Get started, twenty laps."

She smirked. "That’s more like it."

He stared at her, bewildered as she cackled, then stepped closer.

"I think it’s slipping, spymaster."

He blinked. "What’s slipping?"

She rolled to her tiptoes, her mouth dangerously close to his ear. It made shivers run down his spine as his eyes focused on the training dummy on the far end of the ring covered in long slashes, the filling spilling out in a few spaces.

"Your facade." She whispered, her hand coming to rest on the back of his neck.

He stiffened. "I don’t know what you mean-"

"Oh cut the crap spymaster, I see right through you."

Az turned his head to meet her gaze. "And what do you see?"

"I can see you, starting to like what you see."

It was like a cold breeze passed through the room, turning his body cold before his heat regulating system turned on again, making him feel hot all over.

"And what do I see?"

Azriel knew his game was over, knowing she knew he was beginning to like her, but he was not going to give in to her easily.

"Me. You see me, Azriel, and you like it." She stepped back, letting her hair loose as she manoeuvred around him. "Pity, you are not getting any of this. Not now, not anytime soon."

He turned on his spot, watching as she stalked away, and he knew damn well she was swaying her hips more than she usually does just to add salt to the wound.

Being a spymaster, he took note of the minute details, of course.

Before she vanished down the stairs, though, she turned to look at him. Her eyes roved leisurely over his figure, and when her eyes met his, she smirked, puckered her lips, blew him a kiss, and then sauntered off.

A challenge.

Azriel wasn’t known to be the most competitive person in the inner circle for no reason.

She had just challenged him, and Azriel would be damned if he lost.

He was going to win this one, and oh was he going to win spectacularly.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

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[deerspherestudios]

hello cheea!!! i have a question abt day 3✨

first of all tysm i rlly loveeee everything abt day 3

so abt my question ↓

did the mc wore the same outfit they wore before, to go back home or they kept mycheal's clothes and didnt change ?

ya thats all i just needed to know cuz i wanna draw my mc with mycheal and i didn't know which fit they were wearing

and tysm again u have no idea how much day 3 cheered me up i was feeling down these days thank u soo soo much

i didnt use a translator btw so im so sorry if my question sounds weird im north African and english is my 3rd language

and i hope u have a wonderful day/night

MC is still wearing Mychael's sweater since their old clothes are inside their backpack!! I love seeing MC fanarts with that mushroom sweater, even though it was completely unintentional haha <3

And that's okay!! Being able to understand three languages is real neat <3

[hrrtshape]

loa myths . . . so you think you're responsible for everything?

recently i got this question, prompting me writing this…..essay . let’s go:

“ say someone who practiced loa and had soo much success with and managed to deal with their limiting beliefs, but then something traumatic happens in their life like loosing someone close to then or even worse traumatic things. Is it their fault that those traumatic things happened to them? [ … ] Because i do believe some people in the manifestation community can be quite dismissive when people experience trauma in their lives and put the blame onto the person because they didn’t ‘manifest hard enough’ ”

so. you’re the maestro, the auteur, the singular divine force orchestrating every twist and turn of your little mortal theatre. you set the scene, light the candles, cue the music. and then. someone dies. the flight gets grounded. your cat throws up something unspeakable. the world veers left when you were so sure it would glide right. the script you thought you were writing? it’s torn, crumpled, burned to ash in the maw of something bigger than you.

which leads us to the big, ugly question: was it you? did you misstep, misthink, mismanifest? did your subconscious pull some sick prank?

don’t flatter yourself. hello, i’m hrrtshape aka emma aka stuck in the middle of nowhere with a dead electric car. let’s drive.

there is a difference, a cavernous, all-consuming difference, between shaping your experience and controlling the experience of all. you are not the djinn of your tragedy. you are not the hidden hand behind your cat’s digestive misfortunes. the plane did not fall from the sky because you were in a bad mood. reality is a tangle of threads, billions of minds, endless moving parts. you are powerful, sure, but you are not the only consciousness in the room.

but. if you’re not responsible for everything, then what are you responsible for? if you’re not the god of the world, are you just another flailing extra, reacting, reeling, utterly at fate’s mercy?

no.

because you do hold the pen. not to write the news headlines, not to dictate the weather, not to play puppet-master with the lives of strangers. but your story, your perception, your next act? that is yours.

things happen. they happen randomly, chaotically, sometimes cruelly. people make choices. systems collapse. biology does its slow, tragic dance. but then: you respond. you assign meaning, you pivot, you press forward or you don’t.

obviously there’s a cruelty in telling someone they suffered because they didn’t “manifest hard enough.” a cold dismissal wrapped in pseudo-spirituality. the idea that tragedy is some kind of moral or mental failing, that if you were just better, stronger, more enlightened, your pain would cease to exist. it’s not just incorrect. it’s lazy. it flattens the complexity of existence into a self-help soundbite.

so no, you didn’t summon your uncle’s cardiac arrest with a rogue intrusive thought. no, the stock market did not crash because you worried about rent. but how you rise, how you fold or unfold, how you carve a path through the wreckage? that’s on you.

loa is not a prison. it is not a thought crime surveillance state. but it is not nihilism either. welcome to the liminal space, the space between fate and free will. it’s not neat, it’s not easy, but god, it’s real.

and if reality is anything, it’s that : real.

[zolass]

Detectives Attraction Ch. 04 Top Male Reader x Male Yandere Harem

Soo some tension between my stinky winky lawyer and M/n. Might dive back into some spicy sauce again, but can't all be just sex am I right- Didn't think I would drop a chapter today but here we are I'm still thriving y'all

content warning: Dead Body, Gore (maybe some of y'all know the reference of what happened), just tension with Adrian. 2k words

M/n walked to the front door as the doorbell rang, when he pulled the door open he was rather surprised to see none other than Adrian Sinclair standing in the doorway. A neat and expensive looking burgundy button up that seemed to be tailored as it hugged the man’s hips just right while three buttons were open, giving M/n a good look at the fair skin and chest. The top was accompanied with a pair of sleek well-fitting dress pants and black patent shoes, while his chestnut brown hair was styled. 

“With what do I owe the– pleasure that the oh so busy Adrian Sinclair steps foot into the lower class– ringing at my door?” M/n asked, as the other took two steps closer, looping his arms around the taller male’s shoulder, “Well you know– I already got your number so it wasn’t as hard to get your address– kinda,” Adrian mused, his green eyes looking up at the others E/c ones. “Also I knew you would decline and shut me off until I was needed again– if I asked you to go to a new restaurant that opened,” he quickly added, a s M/n frowned confusedly at him.

Letting out a sigh, M/n knew he might regret it later but the stress of the new case he knew a bit of a distraction might help– also as if Adrian wasn’t craving it as well by the way he pressed his body against yours it was pretty obvious. M/n wrapped his arms around the waist of the other, before he pulled the other in with a twist– swiftly kicking the door close as their lips crashed onto each other.

Soft moans left Adrian as he felt M/n’s lips on his.

The kiss was purely led by hunger for each other, with a passionate edge. M/n pressed the other against the kitchen counter of his open kitchen, caging the man between the counter and his body. His hands were on Adrian, one holding the other’s nape to keep the lawyer from pulling back, while the other was on Adrian’s waist grinding their lowerhalfs against each other. M/n webbed his fingers into the brown strands, as he pulled Adrian’s head slightly back making said man let out a moan in delight, before M/n pulled his lips completely off of the lawyer’s. 

“Would you like something to drink?” he breathed out, as he tightened his grip on the hair of the other– as green eyes hungrily eyed his lips. M/n chuckled as he noticed the dazed look, a small breathy moan left Adrian as M/n grabbed a handful of his plump ass, making green eyes shoot up. “What about your cum–” “Yeah no– you’ve never even sucked me off,” M/n chuckled as he pulled back and walked into the kitchen, grabbing two wine glasses, “Then it seems to be time we change that,” Adrian voiced out as his eyes scanned over the others body, before he bit into his plump and slightly more reddish lips. 

“How about some wine? Obviously I don’t spend a fortune on a singular bottle, so you’ll simply have to accept cheaper wine,” M/n said as he grabbed a bottle of red wine from a lower cabinet in which he stored most of his unopened alcoholic beverages and two glasses.

Slow steps approached the taller male, as he filled the glasses one fourth of the glass as a hand was placed on his shoulder, while the other hand of Adrian grabbed onto the stem of the glass, before picking it up and taking a sip from the wine. M/n only chuckled as he glanced at the other, before also taking a sip and placing the glass back down.

Just as M/n was about to speak a sudden break of glass made his body go rigid in alarm, a curse slipped through his lips as he quickly grabbed onto his gun that he carried with him as he looked at Adrian, “Stay behind,” he ordered the other in a hushed tone, as he walked towards his study with his gun tight in his grabs. Adrian on the other hand couldn’t help but follow as he swallowed hard, his hands turning slightly sweaty. 

M/n kicked the door that was almost completely closed, open with a harsh kick. His gun was raised, while a masked head popped up, probably rather in surprise before the figure made a dash to the broken window. The detective crossed the room, just in time to grab onto the person's leg, but as something glinted in the light of the silver moon, M/n only had enough time to realize that it was a weapon, as he let go of the person’s leg making them fall, just as a gun went off.

The detective ducked quickly, he only heard a dull impact and a groan, before he decided to look out of the window again, further down in which actually three figures were. One had a gun which had gone off, while another picked up the fallen knife, the focus of the three went back to him and his apartment. The gun was lifted again, as another shot rang through the night, missing miserably into the wall a second time, as they started to run off.

M/n scoffed, “Can’t even shoot a gun right,” the man lifted his own gun, focusing on and aiming at the running figure at the back, before he pulled the trigger once– a hit in the shoulder making his target stumble; twice– a hit into the right calf, enlightening a scream from the person– a man. His colleagues skittered to stops, before aiding him into the alleyway. 

A chuckle left M/n as he turned away from the window, his eyes landing on Adrian who surprisingly looked concerned, “Are you okay? Did you kill one?” the lawyer asked, M/n saw that the man looked genuinely concerned for him, making him sigh, “Yes I’m fine– but looks like I’m going on a hunt,” M/n said as he stalked out of his study– that was once again a mess from someone searching around. 

“Hunt? M/n what do you mean? You’ll follow some stranger that shot at you– twice?! What if they don’t miss this time?!” Adrian’s voice was filled with disbelief and concern, as he grabbed onto the detective’s arm, as M/n was about to walk past him. Said man chuckled, “They have such a terrible aim, they wouldn’t even hit our president– and that douche is the size of you and me combined,” M/n snorted, before he turned serious again, “Adrian– I would advise you to go home– this is the second time someone broke in, and while I know I shouldn’t really care for your corrupted ass– I don’t want you to land in the crosshair of a gun,” e/c eyes looked at the green ones of the lawyer who swallowed at his words, before giving a reluctant nod, “Please call me– when you’re save at home again,” Adrian said as he followed M/n to the front door, before they both stepped out.

After the detective waved the man in the car, he started to stalk across the street to where he hit his target first. Blood was on the ground, M/n checked if he had enough ammunition, before he followed the trail that led into the darkness of the alleyways that twisted and turned around Noxhaven. It didn’t take long until M/n heard a pained groaning in the darkness, which made him quickly shut his flashlight off.

He shifted his weight, before he approached swiftly and quietly. In the silver light of the moon, was a man that sat on the ground between piles of garbage bags. What caught M/n’s attention was the blood that smeared the man’s right leg, and the knife that laid just right beside it. One thing that M/n realized was that the other two seemed to have left him here and fled on their own, which enlightened a cold amused snort from the detective, which made the injured man jump and snap his attention and gaze over to him. 

“Look what we got here– didn’t think you would make it so easy for me to find you after you and your buddies little stunt,” M/n grunted as he slowly stepped closer, making the other grab his knife, which in return made the detective lift his gun, “I wouldn’t try anything– if I was you.” The sight of the gun made the man shrink into himself– dropping the knife. 

The detective took a few more steps until he stood in front of the injured man, “Tell me who sent you– and I might call you an ambulance. But if you don't do well– bleeding out is rather a shitty way to die, no?” M/n chuckled, as he squatted down in front of the man, with a safe distance. M/n tilted his head as he waited, but the man across from him only seemed to tremble with a look on his face that basically spit into M/n’s face, ‘I won’t snitch’ which made the detective scoff.

“I’m loyal– I’m not a snitch, even so the Serpents–” the man’s dark eyes widened as he physically bit his tongue. M/n raised an eyebrow, “The Serpents huh?” a dry laugh left him, “You really seem loyal– but could it be that your IQ dropped when you fell from my window?” a snicker left the detective, as he saw the angry look that morphed on the others face, “You–” the man was interrupted as a low beeping sounded in the almost silent alley.

Eyes wide in horror and panic settled on M/n who in return seemed to remember what that sound was, as the beeping got faster. With a sigh did the man stand up, “You’re really useless for me,” were the only sounds M/n said as he closed his eyes. The sound of a body part being ripped apart with a small accompanied explosive bang, and the amount of hot blood splattering on his face, made the blood in M/n’s body boil. 

Another lead that ended almost in a complete deadend.

E/c eyes opened to take in the scene, empty eyes stared ahead, as half the man’s throat was blown away and the brick wall behind him had a large amount of blood splattered on it. The ground around the detective was not spared, just like his clothes.

Slowly grabbing his phone, M/n dialed a number. 

After a few rings the call was picked up, “M/n? Do you know how late it is–” “Elias– we have a new body,” M/n’s voice was monotone as he spoke, there was a heartbeat of silence, before the person on the other end seemed to spring out of bed, “I’ll be there in ten– give me your location I’ll call reinforcement,” with that the call was ended and M/n simply stood there not stepping from his place.

“This situation really needs a smoke break–” M/n sighed as he pulled his cigarettes and lighter out, soon smoke swirled in the night lifting into the sky until the lights and the familiar sirens came closer. Multiple footsteps closed in on his location, but all M/n did was stand there until he turned his head to see the horrified looks of some of his colleagues, one of them his partner, Elias Hart. 

“Good evening,” M/n only said dryly, and shortly after that a small investigation began of the surroundings and the body, while M/n was pulled away to be interrogated as he was found with the body– alone.

M/n told them almost everything– there was only one small thing he didn’t mention– The Serpents. It was the one group he was after since the beginning of his career, he knew they’ve bribed some of the law enforcements, making it not safe for him to spill any of his leads that could bring him closer.

The chase has only begun.