#Chromatic Drive

[fogaminghub]

🚗💥 Gran Turismo 7 Update 1.55 has launched, bringing new cars and thrilling AI action! With the iconic Honda Civic Si Extra and the futuristic Hyundai IONIQ 5 N added to your garage, plus exciting new events to race in, there's never been a better time to jump in! 🏎️✨

[harrisx28]

Tesla Cybertruck at Miami Design District🚙

[mymelodic-chapel]

Chromatics- Night Drive (Synthpop, Synthwave) Released: August 28, 2007 [Italians Do It Better] Producer(s): Johnny Jewel

[futuristicturtlefox]

CHROMATICS "TICK OF THE CLOCK" Night Drive LP

[genshinimpactresources]

Genshin Impact | Cutscenes from Chromatic Ode of Candies and Roses

Download Link (Google Drive)

[corpsedogs]

✿ Chromatic Silence ( Jason Todd x Reader )

soulmates, alternative universe (no vigilante hero stuff), teacher jason todd, artist reader

sypnosis: The reader’s soulmate power is to see colors for the first time when she touches her soulmate. When she met Jason, her world bursts to color but not his. She fell for him quietly, but she’s not his and she’s torn between waiting for his colors to come or moving on. ao3 link

a/n: first i’d like to thank @harbours-lighthouse for proof reading this for me youre the bestest… SECOND!!! i finally know how to use the small text jesus christ now my fics dont look ugly. anyways this has been stuck in my brain for a while— and if i get some good feed back i might turn this to a series. i was also very inspired by this fic please check it out its genuinely so cool

Paint was littered all over your arms and fingers— some at your face and a bunch on your apron. You were painting, again… it was something you always did to pass time. In front of you stood a canvas, a soft forest scene painted across it— a fairy hut tucked between trees and ferns, and a small butterfly brushing a leaf’s edge. You hummed quietly, dabbing a thumbprint of color onto the curve of a painted leaf.

It looked good, you thought, but it wasn’t quite finished. The doorbell rang as you blinked, who was looking for you? Your footsteps padded softly across the paint-splattered floor as you opened the door— only to be met with a familiar smile.

He gave a quick smile, “Hey, I knew I got the address right.” You grinned back and embraced him, “Dick! It’s so nice to see you again.” you felt him pat your back as the two of you pulled away, “So you still up for dinner with the gang?”

You let out a nervous laugh, “I didn’t know that was today. I’m a mess.”

Dick had been your friend since high school. Even though college made the group drift apart, you all still made time for each other now and then.

You stepped aside to let him in. He looked at your living room, three or more canvases were laid on the wall with the one you were working on in the middle of the room. Paint with the randomest colors were all over the floor, layered over newspapers meant to protect the floor.

He crossed his arms as he examined your paintings, “Woah, the colors are getting better.” he complimented as you itched your cheek. “I had a friend who helped me pick colors.”

You then looked at him, “Why’d you visit?” you asked.

He shrugs, “I was driving around Gotham and I recognized your apartment so I decided to pay a visit.” he explained as he sat on your couch.

A soft smile played on your lips as you grabbed a towel to wipe your hands and face. “Hey, maybe you could come with me and we’ll head to the restaurant together?” he offered. “Awesome, thanks.” you said “I’ll just change if you won’t mind.”

After talking for a bit, Dick drove you in his car. You opened the door to the passenger seat and buckled the seatbelt, “Where are we going again?” Dick hummed— drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, “Remember that steak house Roy dragged us in back in highschool?”

You let out an ‘ah’ in response. It’s been too long since you went back to that steakhouse and fifteen minutes later, the two of you arrived. You could see the group already inside the building as Dick talked to the waitress about the reservation. You tilted your head a bit, you saw a man. You’ve never seen him before, white streak in his bangs, wearing a hood.

“Hey, Dick. Who’s that?” you asked, his eyes darted towards the man as he smiled.

“That’s Jason, he's my little brother.” he answered.

You’ve heard a lot about Dick’s family, but you’ve only met Cass. But you’ve heard about Jason less, he was quite the mystery to you but you never really thought about it. You entered and the two of you were showered with greetings.

The table consisted of Kory, Wally, Roy and Barbara. Jason was sitting beside Roy, with Barbara on the left. Dick went to sit beside Wally as you sat in front of Jason. “Hey! How are you?” Kory smiles as you smile back, “Great.”

“So, this is Jason.” Roy placed an arm around him as he rolled his eyes and shook him off, “Hello, I’ve heard a bit about you.” you said as Jason hummed, “I hope not too much.” he replied flatly.

“He’s a bit of a grouch but he’s easy to get along with.” Dick shrugs.

The night went on, all of you talked about the past, the present and the future. Hanging out with your old group of friends was something you enjoyed a lot. You’ve never expected to go this far. Jason was silent, occasionally giving his own comment or just listening idly.

Wally called out to you, “Hey, can you get the ketchup?” Barbara looked at him oddly, “On your steak?” he huffs, “Why not?” you chuckled as you reached out for the bottle, “Yeah okay, I’ll get it.”

You reached for a bottle—only for Wally to laugh. “That’s the oil.” Your cheeks flushed, a bit embarrassed “Sorry.” you nervously chuckled. Barbara smiled, “It’s fine, we don’t blame you.”

You were colorblind, the doctor claimed it was a part of your soulmate power… whatever that meant. Everything you saw was black and white, it was a bit difficult. Sometimes, when someone points you something in the distance— you’d often squint and take three more seconds to find it. You’d have to ask help from people finding the colors that fit your makeup. The light was often too blinding, your eyes get overwhelmed leading to discomfort or pain. One thing you were fond of was art. Since you couldn’t see, you would often take a bunch of paint you bought from the store and to others— your canvas burstingwith colors. Painting monochrome(ly) was easier after all… maybe.

“Hey,” Dick said with a nudge toward Jason, “he’s like you.” Jason stared back with a death glare, “Can you not?”

Apparently (from what you’ve heard) Jason too was colorblind, he didn’t have it as bad as you did, for his eyes weren’t as sensitive as yours. But still, another bond in the grayscale. Hoorah!

“Maybe you two are soulmates.” Roy teased as he nudged Jason, “Then I would’ve found out when I first saw her.”

He’s right, nothing happened to you the first time.. you’re seeing the same thing. But deep down, you were hoping it was true.

Though you weren’t in a rush finding a soulmate, you felt left out. Kory had Donna, Wally had Dick, Barbara had Dinah— hell, Roy had a platonic bond with his daughter. it was pretty much only you who didn’t have one. Most soulmates found theirs at seventeen or sixteen, and you thought you’d get yours around eighteen, it all varied from platonic and romantic. But no matter how many people you see, your world is still in shades of grey.

The night moved on, all of you went to the park. A few shops and stalls were on the side with dim post lights showing the way. There were gazebos on the left, a few people already sitting down in the area as well as people who sat on picnic blankets.

Ahead, led by Wally and Dick. Followed by Kory, Barbara and Roy with Jason and you behind. Since the others were immersed in their own conversation, you decided to talk to him.

“Hi.” you started with a smile. “Hi.” he says back. “Nice to meet you.” you said to which he replied, “Yeah, you too.”

Awkward..

You hummed for a bit, looking away at him and into the distance “I uh.. I heard you were colorblind too. Is it a soulmate thing?” you asked, you heard him sigh— as if he was annoyed at his own condition “Yeah, pretty much.” he confirmed.

“Are you waiting for your soulmate?” you asked again, he shrugs. “Not really, platonic or romantic, its whatever. My life would still be the same, I don’t think it would change once I have one.” he claims, “You?”

“Yes, but I’m not in a hurry.” you said “I’ve always wanted to see the world in color though.” you added.

Jason lets out an amused huff, “Yeah? What are you going to do once you see them?”

You hummed before answering, “Put them down in a canvas most definitely.” you replied, “Put them on a canvas. Ironic, right? I’ve been painting blind my whole life. Some people say my work is chaotic. Others say it’s unique. I just… I want to know what it actually looks like.”

He looks at you as you slightly tilt your head, “Is your job painting?”

You scratched your head, “I’m kind of jobless right now, I used to be an art therapist till the place shut down. So now I auction off paintings, they sell okay. Enough to pay rent and food.”

Jason crossed his arms, “Well, freelance is freeing. You’re your own boss there.” he says, you let out a smile as you looked at him “Yeah, it is nice. What about you? What’s your job?”

“English teacher, Gotham Academy.” he replies.

You blinked, him? An English teacher? Someone as tall and muscular as him? He lets out a scoff when he sees at your stunned look, “I'm not kidding, I really am.”

You chuckled, “Yeah? Quote a book.”

“Shine out a fair sun, till I have bought a glass, that I may see my shadow as I pass.”

Wow, okay he’s impressive.

“Richard III?” he looks at you, “Huh, yeah. Do you read?”

“Mom used to read me a lot of books.” You said, “That's nice.” in which he replied. You weren’t expecting to get along with him, the conversation flowed. He listens to you, and you listen to him. It almost draws you in, like a moth to a flame. It was almost weird why you felt this way.

Eventually, the two of you caught up with the group. Roy and Dick were talking to Jason while you and Kory walked side to side. You looked at Jason.. longingly? Whatever it was, your mind was internally telling you: ‘God, I really hope it’s you.’

Jason lets out a breath, amused at something Wally yelled to Dick ahead. You watched the way he lifts his mouth a bit when he smiles and the way his eyes squint ahead as he watches them in the distance.

He huffs, “You don’t seem like someone who’d hang out with all these lunatics.” you let out a quiet laugh, “Yeah, me neither.” you sighed.

The path opens up as the concrete ends and the seaside view takes over. The waves crash softly below and the horizon is a smudge of black and navy— lit faintly by the beautiful moon.

Kory smiles, leaning against Barbara “I forgot how majestic this spot is at night.” Roy lets out an amused sound, “Probably the only few places in Gotham where water doesn’t stink.” he said.

Wally whistles, “I can definitely swim from here over to that island over there.”

Barbara chuckled, “This is Gotham. A sea monster might pop up and swallow you whole.”

The wind rolled in, it felt cool and it smelled salty. You hugged your arms, you weren’t shivering though. The coolness meeting your skin felt relaxing.

Dick points at something off the distance, a yacht crossing under a bridge. The lights on the boat flickering in the distance as Dick tells everyone that Gotham yacht services were pretty cool. Everyone leaned forward to look, so did you. So did Jason.

And then.. it happens. Your world explodes.

Jason’s arm swings beside him when he shifted his stance— his bare arm accidentally touching yours. Just a single brief touch. It didn’t even last a second, but that’s all it took.

The color rushes in and you inhale sharply.

The yacht lights blaze like stars. The ocean below you turns indigo— frothing white where waves hit the stones. Your friends drenched in color, Kory’s beautiful curls flicker with copper fire, Barbara’s coat is pine green and Roy’s beanie is a loud maroon. The sky is black, scattered with small white stars.

And Jason.. he was all red and shadows, his hoodie the deepest rust and his skin warm in the golden lamplight. You blink, nearly stumbling as you grab the railing like it’ll hold your sanity in place.

But then you looked at Jason, staring at the distance like nothing happened.

You internally panicked.

He doesn’t see it.

He doesn’t feel it.

“You good?” he asks you absently, not even turning his head to look at you. You manage to nod, “Yeah, uh. Wind in my eyes.” you said nervously as he grunted in response.

Your knuckles, they go white around the railing. You looked back at the sea, it hums with millions of shades you’ve never had words for. You’re not sure what to do.

The rest of the night passed in a haze of color and effort. You hear your friends chatter. You smile on cue. You nod at jokes. But your eyes darted everywhere, your mind is caught in a world you never thought you’d see.

You peek at him now and then.

His world was still grey.

You went home alone. Your apartment is dim and quiet, still buzzing with color that won’t fade no matter how much you try to ignore it. They will never go away.

The world was blinding.

It’s too beautiful.

You sit on the floor, surrounded by all the paints you never understood till now.

You closed your eyes and saw Jason. His face nuzzling against your bare stomach as he whispered against it, his eyes— light blue drowning into yours, your hand— holding his, afraid he was going to let go.

He must be the one.

You opened your eyes and stood up. Your hands move without thinking. You took an empty canvas and dipped your bare fingers into the colors you finally know the names of. Your old palettes felt like a stranger now.

You paint the seaside.

And then, you paint him.

A man in a red hoodie, hair streaked with white. The background glowing, golden, washed in the seaside light. His beautiful blue eyes looked away.

You saw your soulmate. While he saw someone with paint in her hair.

A tear lands on your canvas before all the paint dries.

part two

[animusrox]

11 Essential Synthwave Albums Part Deux

The Midnight | Nocturnal

NINA | Synthian

Confrontational | The Burning Dawn

Roosevelt | Young Romance

Chromatics | Night Drive

Perturbator | The Uncanny Valley

FM Attack | New World

Ollie Wride | Thanks in Advance

LazerHawk | Skull and Shark

Carpenter Brut | Trilogy

Robert Parker | End of The Night

[empyreanevents]

Thank you to everyone who participated in Bodhi Week!! We had a grand total of 101 entries! That is AMAZING! You all really showed Bodhi the love this week. Below is a compiled list of all the works submitted this week. You can also check out the AO3 collection to view some of them there.

Day 1: Right Hand

Mo Laochan by @serahadmoni

Look Around, Look Inside by @theoppositequeens

Wherever You Stray, I’ll Follow by @/theoppositequeens

Right Where You Left Me by @ellebellewritesfic

Wherever You Go, That’s Where I’ll Follow by @laursdomain

Blood Runs Thicker Than Water by @xadensbiceps

Bodhi Durran (7) by @siobhanbooks

Collage by @/siobhanbooks

Offhanded by @oh-no-its-dragons

Poem by @b3anieperson

Heartbreak Anniversary by @slytherin-pen

In The Shadows by @fictionalrelapse

Burnout by @callsign-rogueone

Product Of War by @arcadian-litterateur

The Right Hand by @she-whatshername

Glad You’re Alive by @lightningnshadows

Right Hand by @sliebman10

Day 2: Mirror

Her Reflection by @/oh-no-its-dragons

The Person In The Mirror by @writinginatree

Don’t Let It Break You Down by @/laursdomain

Do I Look Like Him by @simplyyspring

The Archer by @/ellebellewritesfic

Just Wait And See by @/theoppositequeens

Two Reflections In One by @/theoppositequeens

Calm Before The Storm by @theseinfernalangels

Don’t Look Too Close by @/xadensbiceps

The Only Man I See by @/slytherin-pen

Mirror by @she-whatshername

You Deserve The World by @/fictionalrelapse

I Am Perfect (If By Perfect You Mean Totally Flawed) by @/arcadian-litterateur

Mirror by @/sliebman10

Day 3: Signet Counter

Signets by @/writinginatree

Counter Shenanigans by @/oh-no-its-dragons

Chasing Pavements by @/laursdomain

This Is Me Trying by @/ellebellewritesfic

Nobody Comes To Save You Now by @/theoppositequeens

Weakest Link by @/simplyyspring

A Familiar Strength by @/theseinfernalangels

Signet Counterer by @/sliebman10

Born From Loss by @dragonridersandhighlords

In Every Way by @/fictionalrelapse

Never Again by @/slytherin-pen

I Was So Ahead Of The Curve, The Curve Became A Sphere by @/arcadian-litterateur

We’ll Defy The Rules Until We Die by @/theoppositequeens

Poem by @/b3anieperson

Day 4: Perfect

Step One by @/oh-no-its-dragons

Chromatic (Interlude) by @/serahadmoni

You Look Perfect Tonight by @/laursdomain

A Letter To Bodhi by @/writinginatree

Daylight by @/ellebellewritesfic

The Best People In Life Are Free by @/theoppositequeens

Target Acquired by @/xadensbiceps

Perfect by @/sliebman10

Poem by @/b3anieperson

Perfect by @/she-whatshername

Day 5: Window

Step Two by @/oh-no-its-dragons

Window by @/sliebman10

I’m Addicted To The ‘If Only’ by @/laursdomain

I Look In People’s Windows by @/ellebellewritesfic

Does It Feel Alright To Not Know Me? by @/theoppositequeens

Point Blank by @/xadensbiceps

Loved And Lost by @/slytherin-pen

Poem by @/b3anieperson

Windows In The World by @/arcadian-litterateur

Afterglow by @/Katherine_Tripp1209

Day 6: Soft

My Lover’s Keeper by @/theseinfernalangels

Step Three by @/oh-no-its-dragons

Soft by @/sliebman10

I Want To Drive Away With You by @/laursdomain

Simple Gestures Of Love by @/writinginatree

All Of The Girls You’ve Loved Before by @/ellebellewritesfic

It’s So Quiet In The World Tonight by @/theoppositequeens

Gentle Touches by @togeppy

Taking Care Of You by @/simplyyspring

Safe Place by @violent-little-thing

One Of Those Days by @/slytherin-pen

Spill Your Guts by @/xadensbiceps

You And Me, Bubs by @/Katherine_Tripp1209

Poem by @/b3anieperson

Soft by @/she-whatshername

Day 7: Free Day

Comic by @/oh-no-its-dragons

False God by @/ellebellewritesfic

The Book Can Wait by @/writinginatree

Glad You’re Alive by @/lightningnshadows

Free Day by @/sliebman10

Today Was A Fairytale by @/ellebellewritesfic

Poem by @/b3anieperson

Forever by @fireheartpages

Perfect Love by @/laursdomain

What He Wants by @/simplyyspring

When I Could Finally Breathe by @/theoppositequeens

I Think I Am Finally Clean by @/theoppositequeens

Inconsequential by @quietstormxr

By Your Side by @garricks4thwingqueen

Deliverance by @megmoonlightmeg

Fire Away by @/xadensbiceps

[honeywyrdie]

Divine Flesh

part 1 {part 2} {part 3}

Priest Jeongin x Fem Reader

summary: When he took his vow of celibacy, Jeongin was so confident that he'd always be strong in the face of temptation. Nothing could get in the way of his devotion... Until he laid eyes on you. There was something...unnatural about his desire for you. /// word count: 1.5k /// genre: smut, angst /// warnings: priest kink, sexual themes, hierophilia, corruption kink, masturbation, shame and guilt, straight up blasphemy a/n: I didn't grow up catholic but somehow I ended up with a priest kink anyway? I did my research as best I could, but there's bound to be inaccuracies. This will be a 3 part fic for the spooky season <3 if you'd like to be added to the taglist, reply to this post or send me a DM!

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

The mist outside clings to the stained glass windows, turning the translucent colors opaque. It’s a small, narrow window, only the image of the cross surrounded by a chromatic, patterned web. It feels so much more solid today on this cold morning, no sunlight filtering through the multicolored panes of glass. Jeongin tried to keep his focus on it, counting the hues, to distract himself. Though he could feel the chill seeping in through his robe as he held the basket of communion wafers, he had something uncomfortable smoldering in his chest. He felt an impure warmth creeping up his neck beneath the crisp white clergy collar.

You are in line. He hasn’t seen you come up for communion in weeks. When he wasn’t paying attention, you must have finally confessed some mortal sin to the aging Father Park.  As he avoids your eyes, he wonders in vain what the nature of your sins are. A small, impious part of him hopes they’re carnal. But here you are, eyes locked onto him any time he glanced away from handing the body of Christ to another parishioner. 

You wear a serene smile on your face - unbothered, reserved, and almost shy - innocently fluttering your eyelashes like a fawn licking dew off of a leaf. How could you look so virtuous after the things you did with him, to him, in his dreams? The way he’s seen those eyes look down at him from above with a dusty pink glow so many times, he felt like he could paint them from memory. Jeongin felt a bolt of hot shame drive through his heart like a nail. It wasn’t your fault that he met you every night after he fell asleep as you did wicked things with your hands, your lips, your tongue in his dreams. 

He had only moved to this small parish in the middle of nowhere a few months ago, settling into the provincial town easily. But for the last few weeks, his slumber has been plagued by visions of you on your knees, on your back, on his mouth. He’ll jolt awake in the middle of the night, panting with need, cock hard and leaking. Once he awoke to find himself desperately fucking his hips into his mattress. It made him feel like a schoolboy again with a wild, uncontrollable need. You make him feel out of control.

You walk down the aisle towards him, hands together, eyes hooded. Jeongin could swear he saw a faint dusty pink flare in your pupils, but he dismisses it outright. He’s imagining things he wants to see, and he wants to see you glowing.

You only take your eyes off of him for a second to bow in reverence. The way you step towards him makes time nearly stop. Everything moves in slow motion before Jeongin’s eyes as you kneel on the threadbare hassock. It’s as if the air between the two of you shivers, almost like the heat of a flame bending light around it. Your supple form in your modest clothes, he’s imagined what lies beneath a few thin layers of fabric and his eyes. You’re so close to him, eyes closed as you tilt your head up. His eyes flit around your face as he takes in all the small details: a wayward freckle in your cheek, a minuscule scar on your chin, the delicate curve of your lips. You look up into his eyes, peeking beneath your eyelashes.

“The b-body of Christ…” he stammers. 

Your eyebrows crinkle upwards with what could be called a worried expression, but the way your eyes sparkle makes you look like you’re teasing him. Jeongin feels frozen, his feet screaming at him to run but his heart gluing him to the spot. A slow smile dawns on your face before you lean forward, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to receive the dry little wafer. Your soft pink tongue rests on your lower lip as you stare up at him, waiting for his next move. 

Jeongin would do anything to feel that tongue. That tongue that his sleeping mind tells him is wet, hot, and skilled. He lifts the wafer, gingerly placing it on your tongue, lingering for as long as he’ll allow himself before anyone can get suspicious. 

He begins to pull away when he feels it. He feels a gentle pressure, the lightest kitten lick of your tongue over the tip of his thumb. His eyes go wide, pupils flaring with the sudden urge to claim you. It takes all the effort in the world not to dip his thumb into your mouth - the mere thought has arousal hurtling through his body, clenching his abdominal muscles. That coy smile is still on your face when you finally turn away, sauntering back to your seat. To Jeongin, each step feels like it singes the carpet underneath your feet, the image of your swaying hips imprinting in his chest.

It’s all he thinks about when he’s in the shower later. The icy temperature does nothing to calm his nerves as his flushed, hard cock bobs at the thought of you. Somehow, he made it through the rest of Mass without anyone catching on to the light sweat that prickled his skin. The focus he had on slow breathing during Father Kim's sermon was the only thing standing between him and a tent in his slacks in front of the whole congregation. 

Father Kim noticed that he seemed tense and gave Jeongin the rest of the day off to meditate on what bothered him. After thanking him, Jeongin practically ran back to his living space - the small studio with one spacious bathroom. Feverishly ripping his collar off, unbuttoning his shirt, and kicking off his slacks, he hopped into his shower. Blasting his body with frigid water seemed like the right thing to do. He yelped, arching his back as his skin screamed at the rapid change in temperature.

This is good, this is what he needs. He needs some sort of distraction from thinking about you. He took his vow of chastity very seriously, but today was putting his commitment to the test. Jeongin didn’t have a ton of experience, but he wasn’t a virgin before he took the cloth. He was so confident that he had a handle on any sort of temptation laid before him, no carnal desire could overpower his devotion to the Lord and his duty to the church. 

No temptation, that is, until you. 

The guilt slammed through him as arousal thrummed in his blood. The first time he laid eyes on you, kneeling for a prayer during his first Mass in the new parish, caught him completely off guard. There was something so magnetic about you - the way your hair fell on your brow, the slight pursing of your lips as you prayed, the delicate clasp of your hands around your rosary. You were breathtaking, but it wasn't until you smiled at him that he felt chained to you, fully at your mercy.

 The bitter cold of the water sends stinging shivers through his body and settle at the base of his spine. Building more pressure in his pelvis, he finds his hips shaking as he grows hard, trying to control the thrusting of his hips at the thought of you. He hasn’t been this sensitive to lust ever before in his life. The way your plush lips framed your tongue as you presented it to him… he hisses. His skin is buzzing as if every nerve ending is lit up like a neon sign.

Jeongin starts whispering the only prayer that comes to mind at the moment in an attempt to pull himself back from the edge of insanity. 

Hail Mary, full of grace -

He leans his forehead against the cool blue tile of his shower wall, closing his eyes trying to focus on the words.

The Lord is with thee - 

The cold water pouring against his skin isn’t enough to cool him down, he feels like his body is on fire. Pressing his upper body towards the shower wall, he gasps the next line of his prayer as his nipples come into contact with the chilled tile, pebbling at the sensation. 

Blessed are thou amongst women -

He doesn’t know when his hand found its way down to his cock, but he cries out at the contact, bucking his hips into his fist. He’s so hard, it’s almost painful. The tip of his cock a ruddy color as it throbs in his hand. 

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb - 

“Jesus!” he huffs, his hand picking up speed, chasing his sacrilege to its inevitable end. The haunting image of your eyes, glowing that faint dusty pink, flashes in his mind again.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners - 

His stomach curls, sliding down to the shower floor on his knees. His balls tighten, his hips pistoning his cock into his hand. He can’t control the whimpers leaving his mouth now, he’s almost past his breaking point. He thinks about your pink tongue, glistening in low light, pressing the tip against his thumb.

Now and at the hour of our death.

He cries out as his body convulses, his orgasm pulsing through him. It’s electric, he feels his hair stand on end. Thick ropes of white splatter against the shower wall, the shower quickly washing away any evidence of his sin. 

“Amen,” he sobs, slumping over in defeat, his hair clinging to his cheek as the water continues to pour over him. His vow of celibacy shattered in a single instant.

~~~

{part 2} {part 3}

if you'd like to be a part of the taglist, reply to this post or send me a DM! <3

[zekyrith]

Chromatic Cabaret [Gay Bar/Club]

Hey, Simblr peps!

Here's a gay bar/club that I created, and wanted to share with you all. I call it the Chromatic Cabaret. It's a 40x30 lot, that I built for 28 Civic Circle in Lucky Palms. I built it with guys in mind because they're my favorite , but feel free to change if you.

This is pretty exciting, as this is the first time I ever shared anything I built, and I've been playing the Sims 3 for 16 years (by the gods, has it really been that long?).

Download: Google Drive | SFS

TOU:

None! Do whatever you want. Just credit me, and maybe don't put it behind a paywall.

Disclaimer: Please, please tell me if something is amiss with it, as the last thing I would want, is to share something that's broken. Also, maybe confirm it's free of bad CC. I ran it through Custard, and it looked fine, but I'm hardly an expert with it. Lastly, you may have to reapply a couple of patterns.

Content Used:

Official Content:

Expansion Packs:

Late Night

Into the Future

World Adventures

Generations

University

Showtime

Ambitions

Stuff Packs:

Town Life Stuff

Master Suite Stuff

70s, 80s & 90s Stuff

Worlds:

Lucky Palms:

Nectar is Necessary Barstool

Casino Column

The Wong Way Bistro Table

The Wong Way Bistro Chair

Yucca Plant with Blossoms

Yucca Plant without Blossoms

Palm Royal

Sectional Cement Fence

Roaring Heights:

Liquid Light Neon Tubes (all pieces)

Store Content:

Mid-Century Modern Dining and Style Set:

Countdown Sconce

Three's a Crowd Ceiling Light

Future Shock Living:

Botanists Nightmare

Ultra Lounge Bedroom:

Mirror-Mirror

Ultra Lounge Dining:

Grove Cone Ceiling Light

Viva Las Vegas Bedroom:

City Never Sleeps

Custom Content:

Custom Content by @aroundthesims:

Neon Lights:

[Link]

Neon Light - Line

Neon Light - Circle

Neon Light - Cocktail

Irish Pub Drinks:

[Link]

Bottle of Syrup

Whisky Bottle (don't remember which one)

Vodka Bottle

Porto Bottle

Martini Bottle

Gin Bottle

Bailey's Bottle

Custom Content by @murfeelee:

C2077 LGBT+ Mini Set:

[Link]

C2077 Male Neon Light

C2077 Love Neon Light

C2077 Misty Inspired Set:

[Link]

C2077 Tube Light - Vertical

Custom Content by @simcredibledesigns:

Teach Me Passion Mirror:

[Link]

Funny Lamps Drink Table:

[Link]

Invisible Dance Floor Rug (5x5) by Superstorm:

[Link]

Serious Bartender (Invisible Bar) by @aa6x7:

[Link]

Useless Hand Dryer by Cyclonesue:

[Link]

The Sims 2 Wall Decor - Part 3/15 by @martassimsbookcc:

[Link]

Sims Must Wash Hands Sign

Recessed Light AF709 by DOT:

[Link]

Rack for Cues by Simalia. Thanks @sims3lostsets:

[Link] (it's in the casino set)

Colorful Horizontal Pics by Lamare:

[Link]

Male Paintings - Part 3 by @venusprincess-ts3:

[Link]

Male Paintings - Part 1

The Perfect Night | Miranda Mocktail Drinks by @artvitalex:

[Link]

Rainbow Geometric Collection by @wanderingsimsfinds:

[Link]

Diamonds 4

Geometric 5

Patterns by @omfgingers:

[Link]

R5

R8

Male Angel Statues by sim_man123:

[Link]

Male Angel Statue 1

Male Angel Statue 2

Male Angel Statue 4

[boredth]

Can I ask, how do you get that speckled texture on your art pieces? (Example: the visual texture you see on John’s shoulder in you most recent vampire piece.)

I’ve seen it in various online works for year—I really just wish I knew if it was a layer effect or a certain type of brush?!

I like it because it adds texture to pieces that would otherwise be kind of flat and it is just driving me damn crazy not knowing what it’s called/where it originates in programs (effects vs brushes vs some kind of other visual texture).

(Another popular effect I *just* learned the name for after years is chromatic aberration! It was such a relief to have a theme for it—because knowing what they’re called if the first step to me figuring out how they work!)

Hi! I believe it's called grain / noise. I’m on Photoshop and here are two methods I typically use to add that grainy texture: 1. Using a noise layer - Make a new layer on top of everything (fill with 50% grey, set to Overlay) > Add noise filter (3%) > Add gaussian blur (0.2px). Check this out for more detailed steps. I used this method for that piece!

2. Using texture images - Find a texture image you like > set the image to Multiply, Overlay, Soft light or Hard light (depends on your image) > Adjust opacity and brightness accordingly.

[nenunaiad]

A Fear Even Greater: BSD Ch. 121 vs. BEAST Ch. 4

I was reading the new chapter today and I couldn't help but notice some similarities to BEAST that I wanted to share. I'm sure I'm not the first person to notice this nor do I usually do this kind of analysis post but I thought it was interesting and I'd like to share so please bear with me!

BSD CH. 121 SPOILER WARNING

I've highlighted the segments from each work that I think are thematically relevant to each other in the same colours because my brain works that way, but if yours doesn't don't worry - I will explain:

In YELLOW we have Atsushi's instinct to flee in the face of the enemy. I touch on this a bit more later on but BEAST!Atsushi is further along this thought process than canon!Atsushi. B!Atsushi seems mostly afraid of pain and violence while canon!Atsushi is more despondent. He's lost hope and had his spirit broken from watching his surrogate family die in front of him (understandably, poor baby)

In GREEN we have Dazai acknowledging/calling out Atsushi's cowardice. BEAST!Dazai is mostly describing how Atsushi used to be while canon!Dazai is snapping Atsushi out of his current doom-spiral.

He does this in most of his other hallucination appearances, not dissimilar to his interaction with Atsushi in Ch. 25.

In PURPLE we have the core of this whole rambling post (*´▽`*) There really isn't any contrast in these two, both B!Dazai and canon!Dazai are saying the same thing here.

Which brings us to CYAN where we see how the purple bits deviate slightly with context. It's a minor difference but B!Dazai lists the things that Atsushi used to fear (pain, violence, etc.) but canon!Dazai lists the qualities that Atsushi feels he's lacking (courage and hope). B!Atsushi is already able to use this "technique" (for lack of a better term) in combat, likely because he was exposed to terrifying situations earlier and more frequently than canon!Atsushi and has had more time to adapt to them (again, poor baby [╥﹏╥])

Now in RED we skip ahead a bit in the BEAST chapter to Dazai giving Atsushi his next directive. B!Dazai uses Atsushi to enact his plan and (eventually) bring Atsushi and Akutagawa together while canon!Dazai urges Atsushi to compartmentalize and focus on saving the people that he's still able to save.

Canon!Dazai's request is reminiscent of Oda's final words to him which - knowing Asagiri - could very well be intentional even if this is obviously not the "real Dazai" but rather the manifestation of some part of Atsushi's inner thoughts or Byakko (personally my money's on the tiger theory but we'll see). The Oda/Dazai/Atsushi/Akutagawa parallels will never stop and I'm here for it tbh.

[Dark Era excerpt from this translation from @nkhrchy]

Which brings us to MAGENTA (Could I have done these in chromatic order? Yes. Did I only realize that after typing it all out? Absolutely.) In both cases at this point Atsushi comes to a realization and I think the difference in what that realization is really drives home how well BEAST uses alternate universe to emphasize characterization in canon. Some of this is based on my assumptions about the final page of Ch. 121 and is therefore at risk of being jossed next month BUT I think that what canon!Atsushi is realizing in the final panel ("who you really are") is that this Dazai apparition comes from The Tiger. If it isn't Byakko explicitly I think it's fair to say that it's coming from somewhere within Atsushi himself. So, that being said, let me explain a little bit: B!Atsushi's only recourse is to take refuge in Dazai's plans/orders. His "greater fear" stems from an instance when he deviated from those orders and as a result he feels safest behind the bulwark of going along with Dazai's will. Not the healthiest coping mechanism, but it makes sense considering what B!Atsushi has experienced up to that point. Canon!Atsushi, however, is (I assume) realizing that the safety and reassurance - however harsh it may seem - of the Dazai in his head has actually been coming from himself the entire time. I think it's safe to say that whether it's his subconscious or Byakko, this apparition takes the shape of Dazai because that's who Atsushi trusts during times of crisis; that's the voice he's desperately wishing he could hear. Ultimately canon!Atsushi is in a much better place (despite... everything lol) because he's able to recognize his own internal strength instead of clinging to the safety he sees in Dazai. B!Atsushi does eventually start this process after Dazai fires him and Kyouka (and then steps off the roof of HQ RIP) but he has to take the time first to heal from the anxiety his violent upbringing inflicted on him (quite understandably - let's all say it together: poor babey T_T) There's more I could say about canon!Akutagawa undergoing a similar process re:Dazai but this post is too long! So I won't ♡

OKAY! My brain has never been satisfied with using one word when I could use ten so if you made it to the end thank you and I'm sorry ♡ I am not a writer and doing this reminded me why!! So I will definitely stick to drawing pictures (I'm almost finished one I swear! I'm like a plant, I wither into nothing in the winter months)

[majinael]

A Silent Gesture.

★Michael Kaiser x GN Reader (Fluff)

★675 words

I was one of the new "coaches" Ego had recruited as the Blue Lock project expanded exponentially. With the Neo Egoist League in full swing and new players constantly emerging, Ego no longer had time to personally oversee everyone. That’s where I came in. My role? Similar to Anri’s but more specialized. I focused on individual players, monitoring their health, analyzing their egos and performances, assisting in the gym, and ensuring they were always at their peak. It was exhausting, especially since Ego deemed me one of the "best brains" and assigned me players like Michael Kaiser.

At first, Kaiser rejected my help outright. Not that it stopped me from doing my job—I kept tabs on him, just as instructed. Things changed when he clashed with Shidou Ryusei during training and earned a taste of Shidou’s cleats to his thigh. Whether Shidou meant it or not (debatable), I was the one who treated Kaiser’s injury. From then on, he began to tolerate, even accept, my presence. Over time, he opened up to me in ways I hadn’t anticipated.

As winter set in, Ego granted the coaches a rare week of rest. I used it to visit family and friends, but by the end of the week, I found myself missing my players more than I expected. Sunday evening came, and I rushed back to the Blue Lock facility. It was nearly 8 PM, and after the long drive, all I wanted was to pour myself a much-needed cup of coffee.

When I reached the corridor, I noticed the key to my office was missing from its usual spot. Assuming I’d forgotten to lock the door before leaving, I cursed myself under my breath and hurried over. Sure enough, the door was ajar. But as I stepped inside, the rich, sweet aroma of freshly brewed coffee greeted me. What I saw next stopped me in my tracks.

"Michael?" I blinked, startled.

There he was, standing casually with a steaming cup of coffee in hand.

"Don’t you have your own coffee machine?" I asked, chuckling lightly as I stepped inside. My eyes drifted to my desk, which—if I remembered correctly—had been a chaotic mess when I left. Now, it was neat and organized. Another cup sat waiting on the desk.

Had he… reorganized my things?

"Yours tastes better," he said simply.

I picked up the cup he’d set out for me, staring at it for a moment. Out of all the mugs I owned, he’d chosen the small pink one with a chromatic heart on it. Was it random? Knowing him, probably not. But I didn’t comment on it—only the sudden warmth in my ears betrayed my thoughts.

“It’s not for you,” he added nonchalantly, placing his empty cup on the desk. His piercing blue eyes betrayed nothing, but the slight twitch of his lips suggested a smile he was trying to suppress. “I just had extra.”

"Also," he continued, brushing off any sentiment, "you’re messier than I thought. I couldn’t stand the state of your desk, so I cleaned it. Try to keep it that way." His tone was firm, his earlier amusement now masked by his usual aloofness.

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked past me, heading for the door.

“Thank you, Kaiser,” I said softly, smiling as I looked down at the little pink cup now warming my hands.

I heard his faint sigh of contentment as he left. I didn’t need to look to know he was smiling too.

As I sipped the coffee, a curious detail caught my attention: the water tank of the coffee machine was completely empty. Only two cups—the one in my hands and the one he’d used—showed any signs of being filled. My cheeks flushed as I pieced it together. He’d measured just enough water for both cups, ensuring the coffee was hot and ready for when I arrived.

He’d waited for me.

I sank into my chair, holding the cup tightly as my face burned crimson.

Oh, Michael Kaiser, how can you act so nonchalant?

[paper-possum-party-pal]

Paratober’s over but take my day two piece: Lag

Here’s the version without text or chromatic aberration

I’m still not the happiest with it, but that’s mostly because I need more practice with faces and proportion and I know I’ll drive myself insane if I keep trying to adjust every little detail.

And have a silly initial concept ✨as a treat✨ . It fits better with the prompt.

Thank you to everyone who enjoyed my first work! I’ll try to start posting all the fanart that I have piled up from when I first got into this silly little game, I’ve got so many silly little doodles everywhere.

[genshinimpactresources]

Genshin Impact | Artworks from Chromatic Ode of Candies and Roses

Cleaned and upscaled by asddzr on bilibili

Download Link (Google Drive)

[corpsedogs]

✿ Chromatic silence (Jason Todd x Reader)

soulmates, alternative universe (no vigilante hero stuff), teacher jason todd, artist reader

sypnosis: The reader’s soulmate power is to see colors for the first time when she touches her soulmate. When she met Jason, her world bursts to color but not his. She fell for him quietly, but she’s not his and she’s torn between waiting for his colors to come or moving on. ao3 link, last chapter

a/n: i forgor to post

The painting had sold, for a lot too.

It had been wrapped in layers of brown paper secured around at the corners with painter’s tape stuck and curled like clumsy apologies. 

It was the first time you had ever sold a piece that felt most personal. Most of your work went with a pleasant sort of landscapes and portraits that were all dispatched to homes, hotels, lobbies and galleries but this one was different. 

But it was too late, you had already signed it with your initials. A gallery sold it within a week, with a very generous buyer too.

And yet you stared at the package as if it might change its mind and stay.

You sighed, hand tracing on the brown paper. “I hope whoever takes you handles you with care.” 

When a knock came, it felt like a disruption you needed and dreaded.

You padded across the floor, barefoot. You opened the door, you expected a delivery person for the painting or maybe some rando asking for sugar again. Instead, it was Cassie— smiling wild, rain misting her curls. To you, Cassie always carries the chaos of sunlight on a rainy day. 

“Hey,” Cassie said. “I brought food, but more importantly— are you still in your ‘melancholy artist’ era or can we pretend you’re emotionally well-adjusted for like an hour?”

“Depends on how good the food is,” you replied with a smirk, stepping aside to let Cassie in.

Cassie was your half sister, you weren’t around when she was little. It was only a few years ago since you and Cassie started talking. 

She glanced at the wrapped painting, her eyes softened. “Is this the one?”

You nod, “Sold yesterday. It ships today or tomorrow.”

Cassie made a sympathetic sound and handed you a takeout bag that smelled like grilled cheese and garlic. “Congratulations, and I’m sorry.”

You place the food down on the kitchen counter you convinced yourself to clean in case Jason comes by again. “It’s weird. I didn’t think I’d feel this sad selling a painting.”

“Well.” Cassie crossed her arms, “It’s him.”

You didn’t reply to that. 

The two of you ate by the window, the plates balanced on mismatched cushions. She talked about everything and nothing while you listened. 

“Sooo,” Cassie said, licking the cheese off her thumb. “We’re doing a booth thing for the school fair. My advisory class has been arguing about it for like.. three weeks.”

“Oh?” you asked “What are you guys gonna do?” 

“That’s the thing!” Cassie groans, “Greta wants a face painting, Bart wants a haunted house, and Conner is so locked in on a dunk tank.”

You laughed, “What does your advisor think?”

“He pretends not to care. But he does. Do you know Mr. Darcy? He reminds me of him.”

Something flickered in your chest, “Sounds familiar.”

Cassie smiles. “You’ll love him big sis. He’s an English teacher, big on sarcasm, hates mornings, drinks too much coffee. He acts like we drive him crazy but he’s the one who always shows up five minutes early and stays five minutes late.”

“He’s so weird though. He has this look sometimes like he’s somewhere else. Like his head is full of stories.”

Cassie didn’t notice the pause in your chewing, the way her sister stared at the window like it might offer some clarity. She didn’t see the way your fingers curled in a palm— remembering the night Jason sat in the stairs of her apartment, damp with rain. 

It had only been a day since then, but the colors haven’t faded yet somehow.

Cassie kept talking, then noticed her silence “What?” you snapped in your day dream and shook your head, “Nothing.”

That wasn’t true, the memory was still fresh. Jason standing beside you, hand clutching the umbrella handle as he stared at the rain like it hurt to breathe. 

I don’t know why I can’t feel what you feel.

“Anyway.” Cassie continues,  “He’s a good teacher. Weirdly good. Even when he’s being a jerk. I actually learned stuff this year. And I don’t hate Shakespeare anymore.”

That made you smile.

The two of you finished your food. The painting still sat in the corner, silent and still and waiting for its new life. You would never see it again.

Letting go was its own kind of closure.

After a while, Cassie started scrolling through her phone, showing you Pinterest ideas for their booth, pictures of decorated cupcakes and paper lanterns. It was silly and bright and messy, everything the painting was not. Everything Jason wasn’t, that was okay though.

Maybe the only thing you could do now was live outside of the memory of him, even though there wasn’t a lot. Let his world stay grey. Let your world keep its color, even if it makes you lonelier.

Cassie stayed for another hour before heading back home. You hugged her at the door. “Hey,” Cassie said, just before leaving. “You’ll come to the fair, right?”

“Of course,” you said.

When the door closed again, you turned back to the painting. You knelt beside it, pressing your palm lightly against the wrapped canvas.

Goodbye, you thought. 

You stood, walked to the window, and watched the clouds roll past, heavy and pale.

Outside, the world was still in color.

But part of you still ached for the one who couldn’t see it.

It was the third day of school fair planning, and Jason had already begun regretting agreeing to let his advisory class take the lead. Not because they weren’t capable. 

On the contrary.. His students were brilliant and creative, but too enthusiastic for their own good. Somehow, somewhere between a brainstorming session and a spreadsheet, they had managed to weaponize Shakespeare for god’s sake.

The advisory room was loud. Posters and doodles littered the whiteboard. Cassie stood near it like a general presenting battle plans, pointer in hand, eyes glinting with ill intent.

Conner leaned back in his chair, arms crossed and far too smug for someone about to advocate for dunking their teacher in a tub of water. 

Bart was practically vibrating in place beside Greta, his laptop open and showing a spreadsheet labeled: “To Dunk or Not To Dunk – Proposal Draft 3.”

Jason sat at his desk, arms crossed, one brow raised in suspicion, the corners of his mouth twitching like he was trying very hard not to sigh aloud.

“All right,” Cassie said, tapping the board. “Mr. Todd, we present to you: Shakespeare’s Time-Traveling Death Carnival!”

“That is not the official name,” Lonnie muttered from the back.

“Yet,” Cassie countered with a wink.

Jason dragged a hand down his face. “Is this going to involve poison?”

“Absolutely not,” said Greta.

“Unless you count the poison of passion in Romeo and Juliet,” added Kyle Rayner (who had been absent the other time), twirling a pencil between his fingers.

Poison of what?

“Help me,” Jason murmured to no one in particular.

But they were already in too deep.

Cassie beamed and gestured to the whiteboard, where each play had been transformed into a themed mini-game. There were drawings of potions, ghostly silhouettes, and dramatically large labels like ET TU, BOOTH? and SOMETHING IS ROTTEN!.

Greta handed him a printed outline, complete with bullet points and little Bard emojis next to each section. “We want the booth to be interactive and educational,” she said. “Each play becomes a station. You complete a challenge, get a stamp on your checklist, and then…”

“And then,” Bart cut in, bouncing in place, “if you get enough stamps— you get to poison Hamlet!”

Jason looked up, deadpan. “Poison who?”

“Not real poison, duh,” Bart said, rolling his eyes. “It’s a dunk tank. The prize is dunking ‘Hamlet.’ Which is you?”

Jason stared.

…

“No.”

“Come on!” Cassie laughed. “We already designed the flyer. You’d look great in a frilly collar.”

“No.”

Kyle held up a rough sketch on his tablet. It showed their beloved advisor, drawn in exaggerated Shakespearean garb— perched above a water tank, dramatically holding a skull as if pondering his fate. “It’s got aesthetic.”

Jason blinked slowly. “You drew a goatee on me.”

“You have a vibe, Mr. Todd,” Cissie said from her seat near the window. 

“Dark academia. Tragic hero. Brooding Hamlet. It fits.”

“It’s not a vibe. It’s my face.”

“Exactly.”

Jason set the folder down and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Let me get this straight. You want to create an elaborate Shakespeare-themed obstacle course—”

“Educational experience,” Greta corrected.

“—culminating in publicly humiliating your English teacher by dropping him into a tank of questionable water.”

“Don’t forget the costumes,” Lonnie added helpfully.

Cassie bounced on her heels. “You wouldn’t even have to sit in the tank for that long. We just need to call you over!”

“Oh, that makes it so much better.”

“It’s for the children,” Bart said, placing a hand over his chest with mock sincerity. “Think of the joy in their faces.”

“It’s my advisory class,” Jason pointed out. “Why am I the one getting dunked?”

“Because,” Conner said with a grin, “you’re the only one cranky enough to sell the Hamlet act.”

Jason leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “What happened to decorating cupcakes?”

“Oh, we voted on that,” Cassie said. “Unanimous. This is better.”

“Unanimous?” Jason echoed. “I’m not even a part of the vote in my own class?”

“You’re the dunk target,” Bart said. “It’s a conflict of interest.”

Jason stared at the ceiling like it might offer him divine guidance. It didn’t.

Cissie chimed in, flipping through the proposal. “We also built in learning outcomes. Each station ties to a major theme— ambition, betrayal, identity. There’s even a mini quiz built into the trivia game.”

Jason squinted at her. “You put Shakespearean educational objectives into a carnival game?”

She nodded. “Well, yeah. You’d kill us if we didn’t.”

Jason opened his mouth. Then closed it. Fair.

There was a moment of silence as Jason pretended to read the rest of the proposal, he hated how good they were at this.

His students weren’t just clever, they cared. Cared enough to connect themes, to build structure around chaos, to argue for a dunk tank in iambic pentameter if they had to. He looked at Bart, who had clearly rehearsed lines from Julius Caesar. Cassie had doodled Caliban quotes in the margins. Greta had handwritten notes about sensory-friendly game options.

Jason exhaled through his nose, a sound that came close to a laugh but not quite.

“No Hamlet costume,” he said eventually.

A victorious cheer went up.

“Fine, fine.. no collar,” Cassie conceded. “But we are putting you in black.”

“I’m always in black.”

“Then we’re already halfway there!”

Jason rolled his eyes. “You’ve all lost your minds.”

“Madness in great ones must not be unwatched go,” Greta said solemnly.

“Touché.”

The class was still celebrating when he stood up and walked to the front, grabbing a stack of recently graded assignments from his desk.

“Before we start planning the dunk tank dimensions, I need to give back your papers,” he said. “Let’s see who actually read King Lear and who skimmed the SparkNotes.”

A collective groan rippled through the room.

Jason smirks.

“Allen,” he said, tossing the first paper at Bart, “C+. Points for creativity. Negative points for referring to King Lear as ‘a certified drama king.’”

Bart grinned. “Still true though.”

“Kent,” he said, handing Conner his B+, “good analysis on power and blindness. But next time, less boxing metaphors.”

Conner shrugged. “I write what I know.”

“Rayner—A. Your sketches were weirdly on point. Also, stop turning in essays with illustrated margins.”

“But they enhance the mood.”

“Noted.”

One by one, the papers were returned, each with its own snide remark or praise muttered just low enough to keep them on their toes. Jason didn’t hold back, but he didn’t tear them down either. It was a dance, mockery wrapped in care, sarcasm dipped in guidance. And they knew it.

Jason stared at his laptop like it had personally offended him.

The cursor blinked against an empty document titled: Advisory Class Contribution Proposal.docx. There was something cruel in how smug it looked, taunting him with its emptiness and the ticking clock in the corner of the screen. 

The deadline for contribution submissions was creeping closer, and while most teachers had long chosen their projects, some boasting about them over coffee and stale donuts in the break room— Jason still had nothing but his students’ half-muttered mural idea echoing in his brain.

He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. The teacher’s lounge was oddly quiet today, aside from the low hum of the vending machine that always dispensed lukewarm soda. He didn’t mind the silence. It gave him room to think.

He sipped his coffee and grimaced. Burnt, bitter, and flat. Like disappointment in a cup.

“You’re brooding again, teach.”

The familiar lilt of Harleen Quinzel—Dr. Quinzel, technically, but everyone just called her Harley— echoed from behind him. She swept into the lounge like she owned it, all red lipstick and bright smiles and chaos in high heels.

“Mr. Todd,” Harley sang as she waltzed into the shared staff room, coffee in one hand, a stack of glittery cardstock in the other. She was dressed like she raided a color wheel and won. “Heard your kids are going for the Bard Booth thing, huh?”

“They’re enthusiastic about it,” Jason muttered, clicking his pen and avoiding eye contact.

“Aw,” she grinned, sliding into the chair beside him. “That’s cute. But you know about this year's contribution, right? Something permanent. Y’know. Real legacy stuff.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Booths count.”

“Oh, my angels are donating free supplies,” she said, examining her nails. “Glitter pens. Notebooks. Scented erasers. I even bribed a parent to fund some eco-friendly stuff. You know, the whole save the turtles, win the fair angle.”

Jason exhaled sharply. “Of course you are.”

Harley leaned in, grin stretching. “Which means you’re gonna lose. Spectacularly. And I can’t wait.”

Jason blinked slowly. “You know what your problem is?”

“Too charming?”

“You talk too much for someone who thinks Euphoria is literature.”

“Ouch,” she said, clutching her heart. “Low blow, Mr. Todd. But seriously! If you haven’t got anything yet, you’re gonna get steamrolled. I hear Waller’s cracking down this year. Wants the school looking clean, fresh, and ‘aesthetically aligned with our values.’ Whatever that means.”

Jason took another sip of his coffee. It didn’t help.

He hated losing. Especially to Harley.

But if he was being honest, the kids had already come up with something. It was stupid, sure, and messy, and full of chaotic energy— but it had potential. The mural idea had been tossed around during advisory, but the more he thought about it, the more it started to take root. They could paint something meaningful. Big. Permanent.

He rubbed the back of his neck, thoughtful.

“Don’t tell me you’re considering something risky.” Harley smirked, eyeing him like she could read his thoughts. “That little wrinkle between your eyebrows means trouble.”

“Get out of my face, Quinzel.”

She winked, unbothered. “No shame in losing, Todd. Some people just weren’t built for flair. You’re more… brooding hallway monitor than star advisor.” She twirled out of the lounge like she’d just won an Oscar and left Jason gripping the bridge of his nose.

He sat there a long while, listening to the echo of her words like they were bouncing off the walls of his skull.

Brooding hallway monitor. Mural. Losing.

His eyes drifted toward the faculty bulletin board where a half-torn flyer read, “Think Big, Be Bold — Advisory Contribution Challenge.” 

He slammed his laptop shut and stood, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair like it had personally dared him to try.

Principal Amanda Waller’s office was less “academic administrator” and more “top-level military base.” Her nameplate was polished to a mirror shine. The walls were bare except for a black-and-white portrait of the founding faculty, all looking like they’d rather be in a warzone than a classroom. Waller herself was seated behind her desk, paperwork neatly aligned in front of her like soldiers at inspection.

“Mr. Todd,” she said without looking up. “To what do I owe this unscheduled intrusion?”

Jason cleared his throat. “I want to formally submit a project proposal for my advisory class.”

Waller raised a brow, glancing at the clock. “Cutting it close, aren’t we?”

“I know the kids are doing the Shakespeare booth already,” he said, “but I’d like to approve a mural for our hallway.”

Her eyes flicked up, calculating. “You want to give me graffiti on my wall.”

“It’s not graffiti.”

“Is it going to peel?”

“No.”

“Is it going to offend someone?”

“No.”

“Are there swords?”

Jason hesitated. “…I don’t know yet.”

Waller stared at him. The silence stretched.

“And you want permission to bring in an external contributor?” she said finally.

“Yes,” he replied. “A friend. She’s an artist. Graduated. Good with students. Clean record.” he lies a bit, considering he didn’t know your background that much.

Waller leaned back, “You’re lucky I like your students.”

Jason didn’t flinch. “They’re lucky too.”

She tapped her pen once, sharp and deliberate. “If it’s for the good of the students, and they’re supervised at all times, I’ll allow it. But you’ll be responsible for anything that happens under your advisory’s banner. Understood?”

Jason nodded. “Crystal.”

Waller leaned forward. “And Todd?”

“Yeah?”

“Try not to lose,” she said flatly. “I don’t like Harley gloating.”

He left the office with a strange sense of determination knotting in his gut. The kind that felt like cold metal warming slowly in his chest. Like purpose, maybe. Like pride.

By the time he made it back to his desk, the sun had shifted through the high windows, leaving golden slats across his papers. He stood over the cluttered surface of his workspace, staring at the notepad where he’d scribbled possible contributors earlier. None of them had felt right.

But there was one name that hadn’t made it to the page.

He paced. Sat down. Got back up. Stared at the faculty phone. Stared at his cell.

He’d seen your work. Knew how intimately you painted, how everything you created bled emotion. That portrait of him, haunting and personal, and not meant for anyone else’s eyes still ghosted the back of his mind.

You hadn’t painted him in flattery. You had painted him in honesty.

And that scared the hell out of him.

Jason rubbed the back of his neck and muttered something halfway between a curse and a prayer. There was no reason not to call you. 

But you had looked at him like you saw through every wall he put up.

Did he want you back in his orbit again?

He sat down, jaw tight, and opened his contacts.

Your name stared up at him. Simple. Unassuming.

He hovered over the call button, thumb shaking just slightly.

What if you said no?

What if you said yes?

Jason pressed the button.

It rang once. Twice.

The screen blurred as his thumb trembled again, and suddenly, all the air in the room felt heavier.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” he whispered as it connected. “It’s me. I know this is… sudden, but I’ve got a project. For the school fair. And I could really use your help.”

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