#also doing this bc art block had hands

[solarsnapp]

[ID: A digital halfbody art piece of Aphrodite from the Hades game. She is a fat brown woman with curly pink hair that goes past her waist. There are stretch marks on her belly and butt. She has green and gold bracelets, rings, and hair ornaments. Otherwise, she is not wearing other clothing. On the top left is the sprite of Aphrodite from the game. End ID.]

ms aphrodite goddess of love reimagining

[lemongogo]

hi

[faetreides]

summary: rafe cameron x afab maid!reader

cw: titfucking, rimming/ass eating, collaring, power imbalance/dubcon, no real face slapping but reader gets rafe’s rings pressed into their face, gun mentions, rafe talks about wanting to do a line off reader’s tits, throwaway implication that his dad saw you, general rafe-esque warnings 💀, very plotless & possibly ooc (i’m new to the show but i’ve been lurking for a bit), rafe spits on reader, slight dumbification/objectification, hate sex coded but that's more bc i have a love/hate relationship with rafe, he calls reader a bitch once and a also a slut once, use of good girl

block & move on if uncomfortable !!

do not translate, repost, or give ai my work

kinktober masterlist

This stupid carpet is hell on your knees. Not that there was any time to pull a pillow down under them, you were pulled into the room and shoved down so fast you got dizzy. You’re brought out of your ruminations by a rough palm seizing your face in its grasp and squeezing. 

Rafe huffs, leaning forward to make sure he didn’t miss the way your eyes widened as his fingers tightened. His gaudy rings are going to leave impressions on your cheeks but it’s hard to care about that right now. One second, you’re dusting off the son of your employer’s bedroom, and the next you’re getting a wad of split slung on your face. 

Your pussy decides to be a traitor and clench in response. 

“Sorry ‘bout that………” Rafe trails off, flicking the spit off your cheek like he was picking at a persistent hangnail. 

The apology is as insincere as it could be but something about the bored inflection in his tone gets you wet. 

“It’s fine.” Your “ice princess facade” as he’s called it  falls apart a tad, an embarrassing heat blooming throughout your face. 

He seems satisfied with his attempt at amateur art and scoops the rest up with two of his fingers. He doesn’t ask you to clean them off, just shoves them in between your plump lips without a word. 

“You’re so fuckin’ messy, being such a shitty maid right now, you know that, babe?” He hums, giving your face one final squeeze. 

You’re not even sure he knows your name, he sure doesn’t act like it. All he does is coo at you condescendingly as you suckle on his fingers, telling you how much better you are at this. Once you’ve done an adequate job of polishing them off, he pulls the digits away and gives you a weak love tap. Rafe’s obviously wanting to wring something else out of you. 

You hate that your first instinct is to say “Yes, sir?” 

You also hate that it’s what actually fucking comes out of your mouth. 

The grin that splits his mouth reminds you of the only time you’ve ever successfully caught a mouse in an old fashioned trap. A vermin that used to disgust you until it stayed and you gave it a name. And then your mom has to turn you away from the sight of Jacque’s tiny body cleaved in two. 

“Get those fucking clothes off, now.” He orders you, palming himself through his khakis. "And toys don't talk back."

You roll your eyes and comply. You ignore Rafe's ramblings about how he wished his dad made you wear one of those skimpy made costumes without underwear, that he way he could stare at your pussy whenever you bent over. The door is wide open, you know you could just make a break for it if you wanted. But you kind of like how the humiliation twists your stomach in a knot. The air in the room gets so much hotter when you focus on the large bulge in front of your face.

As soon as your uniform is lying on the hardwood floor in a rumpled heap, your tits are being squished together. Rafe takes several moments to weigh each globe of flesh in his hands.

"Pretty tits, always wondered what they looked like under that stupid uniform. Wanted to make a mess of you so bad but you had to be all fuckin' stuck up and prissy." He hisses, digging his nails into your breasts.

He massages them in circular motions, forcing them to press together like he could cum untouched to the sight of it alone.

You obediently stay silent as you watch Rafe stagger to his feet and wrestle his leather belt out of his pants. His bottom lip is being toyed with to the point that tiny drops of blood are peeking out of the skin. The leather makes a thwack! sound as it passes through the final belt loop and flops around. Rafe continues to eye your tits like a hawk as he wraps the belt around his hand and kneels down to your level.

He tilts your head up with one finger under your chin, "This is going around your neck, okay? I don't have a leash to go with it, but I'll get one for next time."

You open your mouth to speak or maybe to moan at the vision of the expensive leather tensely coiled around your vulnerable neck like a snake about to strike. The warning look he gives you shut you up, but your damp panties made you want to push him further.

"Don't move a muscle."

The belt was warm to the touch, probably because of all the hours Rafe had spent on the golf course or wherever his "business" takes him. You stay perfectly still as he curled it around your neck, having to wrap it around you again due to the length. The metal belt buckle clicked as he fastens it, tugging it firmly to test how tight it was. It definitely feels like a weight baring down on you, but you seem to be able to breathe so he steps back again.

"There we go, pretty bitch just for me."

His pants fall to the ground unceremoniously, revealing the cock you may have had a stray wet dream or two about. Crowned by neatly and clearly obsessively trimmed hair, it looks about 7 inches and thicker than your forearm. His cock has a slight left curve, with a couple prominent veins and an almost reddish-pink colored tip that puffs out at the sides a bit.

Rafe's cockhead catches the drool that embarrassingly leaks out of your mouth, and you kitten lick the slit as you stare up at him through your lashes. You want to smile at the punched-out groan emanating from above you, but he might slap you for getting cocky, it wouldn't be unwelcome.

"You like it, babe? Yeah, I bet you do."

He brings your hands up to your tits and you pick up on what he wants you to do. Anticipating Rafe Cameron's needs is part of your job after all. You scrape the sides of your chipped painted nails against them as you softly cup and squish the globes together, creating a perfect pocket for him.

"Good girl." He chuckles, ruffling your hair like you were his pet.

He savors the wet slide of his cock through the valley of your breasts. You hold them impossibly closer together, ignoring the discomfort by getting lost in the game of peek a boo his tip is playing with you during every thrust. A near constant stream of precum is flowing from the silt and ending up all over the tops of your tits.

Rafe pants as he speeds up his thrusts, his pupils expanding as he takes in the spectacle of you hot dogging him with your tits. For how preppy he likes to act sometimes, he sure does seem to enjoy painting you with his bodily fluids. He weaves his hands down from their deadly hold on your hair to pinch and flick your nipples.

" 'G-gonna cream all over these gorgeous tits, get them messy, then snort some coke off your nipples after.”

It doesn't take as long as a man like him would prefer before he's spilling all over your heaving chest with a sound so inhuman you'd think he was possessed.

You're past caring if he sees you hungrily open your mouth as wide as possible in the hopes of catching some of his cum in your mouth. You grind your sopping wet cunt against the floor when you do, and fuck it tastes better than it has any right to.

A quiet 'shit' rings out and the room spins as you're swiftly flipped on your stomach. Rafe crowds behind you and yanks your hips up. You don't think much of it until you feel warm breath on your ass. You jolt in surprise, and he gives you a light smack on both cheeks before spreading them with his thumb.

"Bet you thought I wanted your pussy, huh? Well, this tiny hole right here looks much cuter, you can't blame me. We'll get you some cute plugs." Followed by a flat tongue licking a stripe over your rim. He gives your hole a strangely soft peck and then teases the tip of his tongue past the entrance.

You squeal, which you'd be mortified by if the sensation of Rafe's tongue filling up your ass didn't feel so good. The way he curls it and jabs it deeper between your cheeks in short busts is running a huge risk of causing you to go insane. It's like he's exploring every nook and cranny, you should be laughing because the man that treats you like a back-alley whore is up to his ears in your ass. His groans and grunts are muffled but they give you the confidence to be louder.

He drags his face away and hangs his tongue over you until a load of saliva drips down onto you. You shiver when it meets your hole. A high-pitched moan comes out when he massages it into the puckered skin with his thumb.

He dots sloppy open-mouthed kisses up and down your rim, nipping the flesh as he goes.

"I would say it's gonna be too tight, but sluts like you can take anything, right?"

You're too busy nodding to notice the sound of shoes hitting the floor in their rush to get away, or that the person wearing them softly closes the door behind them.

[nyx-is-missing]

Could u write one for clarisse where she's impressed with femR bc of how good she is at fighting and all and clarisse finds her incredibly attractive bc no one has challenged her the way R does?

And like a bit of pining until the two confess

Thank you!!

Breathtaking or taken

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader

Summary: when Clarisse finds a opponent worth of her, she is breathtaken.

Warnings: none really, just fluff, not a descriptive fight scene on sight cause mama dont know how to write that, so just fluff fluff, and mutual pining fluff

(Do i need to say its not proofread? No? Thank you)

Here is one of the main benefits of being a daughter of Athena, you'll know.

DIfferent from other gods, Athena will let your parent know it is her who they are talking to.

And if letting them know beforehand isnt enough, she will let them know when the baby is brought to them, and if your parent is smart enough to live up to her choice, you'll have time to learn a thing or two before being thrown into this world.

If your parent cares enough about you, you'll have time.

And sure as hell my mom cared.

Always the intelectual woman, historian, researcher, writter, my mom knew many things about ancient greece, she knew all the stories by heart, and she, of all people, knew what she needed to do, to preserve her only daughter, her sacred gift.

She teached me all i needed to learn without compromising myself, stories, languages, art...and fight.

Little girls my age were doing dance classes, were trying to be good enough for drama club, were playing tea party with their dolls or making a mess with their mom's make up.

Well...i.. i was doing martial arts, i was fencing, i had my face in a book every free time i got.

I always asked her about it, why was she so strict about never missing a fight leasson, her answer always made sense, there and now.

"The world is cruel, especially for little girls, someday i might not be all the time with you, someday, you'll fight your own battles, you need to be ready"

Every word, every single word is true.

And that is how i ended up here, in a arena of camp half blood, sparring with Clarisse, and winnig, by two points, yes, but winning.

It is clear nobody expected that from me, neither did she actually, i can see in her eyes.

Understandable, they expect Athena kids to be calm, find a solution, not fight her way out.

Honestly their looks dont bother me, i dont even think much of it, but Clarisse's looks, they got something more to them, like a kid who finally got the dog she really wanted.

"Aaand break time Clarrise, we'll continue this tomorrow, id like to enjoy the rest of my afternoon thank you"

I dropped the sword down and started to undo my armor while walking close to the exit.

"Wait wait wait, now? Already? C'mon i didnt even had time to figure out how do you do that... all of that"

She stood next to me, still holding her sword and honestly.. she was beautiful, yes she was sweaty now and yes she was mean to everyone but.. now...right now, she was beautiful, shining, in her element really, flushed cheeks and a smile she only had when with a sword in hand.

"I practice, ever since i was a kid, everyday, well expect in weekends but yeah, almost everyday... how do you do all that? You are good...-want some water?"

I offered her my bottle also motioning for her to walk with me, both wich she gladly accepted.

"I practice too...and i never said this to anyone but, you are good, great even, and look breathtaking"

We stop walking, we stop all actually.

"I look what, Clarisse?"

"Breathtaken- you look out of breath, do you want the water back?"

Ah.

Weeks later i found myself in the same scenario, sparring with Clarisse again, actually that is all i do when it comes to training, be with Clarisse

"C'mon curls, thats the best you've got? No need to go easy on me"

"Im not going easy, i already told you, you caught me distracted thats all- GIRL WIll YOU SUSH?"

She tried to block you with her sword, thankfully for her, a succeded attempt.

"How could i? You're so fun to mess with, gets all red n all"

"Oh you want to talk about getting red?"

In a moment i was on the floor, Clarisse on top of me, and i couldnt speak, all i could do was stare into her big brown eyes, who looked right into my soul.

"Cant speak anymore huh? Oh if you could see the red im seeing-"

Now this my ladies and gentlemen, this is what i call a shot of faith.

I raised my head a little and just..i kissed her, it was quick but I did it, and her face went blank.

"Now you are breathtaken Curls, how about that?"

"And you are still breathtaking"

Still?

Oh

Oh.

"You...like me Clarisse?"

"You didnt knew?"

Oh.

"....no..?"

"Would you walk away if i kissed you this time?"

"....no."

[lycheedr3ams]

Death's Angel

Part 6: Escape

royal!fem!reader x executioner!konig

Summary: It's 1554. You're one of the eight daughters of the Austrian royal family, and your parents do everything they can to ensure their kingdom is prosperous and peaceful. No royal court is complete without their hand-picked executioner, one who stands out against the sea of black, faceless bodies that make up the profession. It just so happens that your family's new executioner, one who has made a name for himself far and wide for his skill with the axe, has caught your eye and ruined you for good.

Warnings: MDNI! smut, mutual pining, forbidden love, death (konig is an executioner duh), mean sisters, mentions of medieval-type violence, overbearing parents, konig is brooding and a perv, some predator/prey dynamics, possessive!konig, maybe dark themes bc reader likes seeing him kill people and bc he's a perv?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

IMPORTANT NOTE: the taglist is getting too long for me to manage, so this will be the last post that I will have a taglist for. i appreciate all the support!!! just be sure to check my blog for future updates. if you aren't on the taglist but asked to be here, either i missed you or tumblr won't let me @ you also, we are nearing the end! I think this is gonna have 8 parts. thank you for your support!!!!

.......

series inspired by the art below!

konig's promise of taking you away at any moment you asked him weighed on you for weeks. the more you grew attached to him, the harder it was to hide your relations with him. you couldn't exactly go on proper dates in his cold, dark room in the castle basement. he couldn't take you on picnics, take you on carriage rides, or anything that any normal couple would do. you weren't a normal couple. you were a princess, and he an executioner. you two were never supposed to even speak with one another.

the one thing, the one romantic thing that you could do in his room, was dance with him. konig didn't know how to dance. he only knew the dance of an axe over the chopping block and how to sharpen its edges with stone. he was hesitant at first, but loved how close to you he could be. he was quite clumsy, and he'd frequently step on your toes every now and then. but each time he did it, you smiled.

"it's okay, konig. you'll get the hang of it," you'd say as you smiled up at him sweetly. he would quietly nod and furrow his brow in concentration as he danced with you.

his hand would be so gently laid on your waist, and his large hand on your shoulder grounded you and kept you in the moment. it didn't matter what mean thing your sisters had said to you, or the fact that you couldn't care less about your provincial duties. when you were with konig, when he was touching you, you were there, and that was all you knew.

but his hood always remained on. you asked him, once, if you could see his face, and all he answered with was a quiet "no" and you never broached the subject again.

...

"konig," you said to him after you two had danced and then made love. truly, made love. it was so soft, and he pressed so many kisses on your neck and boobs and back. konig always grew a little soft after you two danced.

"ja, liebe?" he asked as he gently stroked your hair.

"do...do you think we could...leave, soon?" you whispered as you gently balled up your fist.

his hand stopped in your hair for a moment, but he quickly resumed his gentle caresses. he breathed deeply. "it's as i said. say the word, and we go."

"i...i want to go soon, konig. i don't know where. just far from here."

"how soon?" he asked.

"next week," you said before he could even finish his question. this had been on your mind for so long. konig changed you, the night he asked what you would do if you weren't a princess. you'd been fantasizing about having your own cottage with him, being able to garden and tend to your animals everyday while he was a blacksmith, maybe, or a mercenary. the cathedral ceilings and polished dinner plates of your castle no longer appealed to you.

konig kept caressing your hair. "and how far?"

you gulped. "could we...leave the country? just go to a neighboring one. right near the border."

konig thought for a moment. "ja, we can. i know of a village just beyond the mountains. you will like it. i will build a house for you."

you smiled against his bare chest. "i'll build it with you, konig."

he shook his head gently as he squeezed you. "nein. i will build a house for you, by myself."

"if you insist," you said as you pressed a gentle kiss to his chest. "a house for us, konig. us."

konig was silent for a little while. you were growing worried, but he finally replied. "a house for us, meine Engel. i will build a house for us."

"i've already begun to stow away some of my savings," you whispered as if you feared the stone walls had ears. "we will be set for life."

"do not worry about that, Engel," konig said confidently. "i will take care of you."

"i know you will," you said gently. "but you'll be giving up your profession for me. i want to repay you in anyway that i can."

"there is no need for that," he said quietly as he held you closer. "you are worth more to me than all the riches in the world."

your heart fluttered as you closed your eyes and relaxed against him. your cheeks grew warm and you smiled.

"i love you, konig," you whispered as if it were the most normal thing in the world to say. once you processed what you just said, your eyes shot open, but your face stayed glued to his chest so that he couldn't see. you held your breath.

"and I love you, meine schatz," he said as he gently pressed a kiss to your head through his hood. you looked up at him with gleaming eyes, and he lifted his hood up slightly to kiss you.

you made love again that night. the words that had lingered in silence for so long had finally been spoken. he put you in missionary, focused entirely on your face as he filled you so gently yet so fully. his hard, smooth cock dragged slowly along your slick walls, and you moaned into his mouth as he kissed you.

"i will do anything for you, Engel," he rasped into your ear as he filled you. "i will take care of you."

"konig!" you moaned. you looked up at him, cock-drunk and in love. "i'm yours. i'm yours." a few tears escaped your eyes.

you kissed him again, and your fate with him was sealed.

...

a few days had passed since that night. the day you and konig were planning to run away was quickly approaching. you had packed a few things in a spare backpack, including the trinkets he gave you through the course of your relationship. you hid the gold entitled to you interspersed through socks and underwear in your backpack. you looked out the window of your bedroom out over the castle grounds, and felt resolved. you were ready to leave this life behind, and just be. with konig.

you got dressed in your room as normal, and made your way down to the banquet hall for breakfast. but when you reached the banquet hall, you found three of your sisters shouting to your parents. your other sisters sat as still as statues at the dining table. all heads turned towards you as you stepped in.

"what's going on?" you asked nervously.

"you harlot!" one of your sisters exclaimed. your mother and father looked like they had seen a ghost. you looked around, and the room was spinning.

"you've been sleeping with the executioner!" another sister yelled as she held up a black executioner's hood. that was one of konig's gifts to you, and you thought it would be kept it safe in your bedside table.

"you went in my room!?" you yelled.

"guards! get the executioner at once!" your father yelled. time began to move slowly. your sisters were screaming, the guards' metal armor clinked and clacked as they ran down to search for the executioner, your mother hugged you tightly in fear. but all you could think, the one thing that managed to keep you grounded in the ensuing chaos, was konig.

you thrashed out of your mother's embrace and ran faster than you ever had in your life to find him. the guards could run, but not as fast as you in their armor. you ran to the only place he would be at this time in the morning.

you burst through the castle doors and ran, panting, up to konig, who was sharpening his axe in the blacksmith's hut. he looked up at you happily at first, but his expression changed when he saw the tears flowing from your eyes.

"konig! konig! they know! they know!" you yelled as you panted. konig looked over you and saw half a dozen guards running towards him with swords drawn.

you looked up at him, your eyes wet and puffy, your dress wrinkled and heels broken.

"come," he said as he picked you up in one motion. you yelped, but held onto him as he ran towards the stables. the alarm bell was ringing in the castle as all guards now saw the executioner running off carrying a princess towards the only escape. your siblings and parents watched from the great porch with horrified expressions.

"i'm so sorry konig," you cried into his shoulder as he ran.

"shh, shh," he soothed between breaths. "i told you i would take care of you, didn't i?"

you nodded and gently squeezed him. you finally reached the stables, which had been unattended momentarily during the chase, and konig threw you on top of the biggest horse before putting on its bridle and getting on in front of you. there was no time to put on a saddle.

"hold on, Engel!" he yelled before smacking the reins against the horse's neck. you held onto his hard, tree-like torso as he kicked the horse with his heels, and it shot off through the stables. the guards that had made it to the stable doors were swept back as your horse sprinted through.

you looked behind and saw that there were now three mounted guards following you. "konig!"

he spurred the horse on faster, but the main castle grounds gate was already closed. "hold on, this will be bumpy!" konig yelled. he sharply turned the horse around and you flew over the castle grounds as he guided the horse towards the hidden exit behind the grounds, past the gardens. the guards' horses were fast, but no match for the bestial horse konig had chosen.

you buried your face in his back as the wind whipped by you and the ground rolled under your feet like waves. the alarm bells sounded louder over the grounds as panic rose, echoing against the stone walls of the castle, and screaming could be heard from servants out in the fields as you passed.

your horse jumped over the hedge at the edge of the grounds, the guards far behind, and you fled with konig through uncharted wilderness with nothing but the clothes on your backs.

taglist: @kneelingshadowsalome, @plumdreadful, @dumb-dumb-idiot-girl, @elichisstuff, @konig-breedme, @tr4psta, @cutiecusp, @konigsleftkidney, @local-vampire-s1ut, @ihaveaproblematicbrain, @twice360noscope, @madzeesstuff, @crazy-phan-girl13, @babygirl-panda19, @warrior-of-justice, @eluffi, @mooniesthings, @elowynnlane, @zaxlrza, @red-bed-bug, @alexdoesntlikeyou, @helmipss, @11aplacesange11, @rouge-swears, @pasta-m1lk, @ghostinvenus

[tartigglez]

"do this again...?"

zhongli x gn!reader

・❥・fluff fluff!

・❥・1.5k

・❥・helloooo i'm suffering an ungodly writers block rn so im really sorry if this is a MESS, i really don't mean for it to be sigh.. also inspired by that art where zhongli is fangirling over baizhus hair and going "so soft!" and then starts scrubbing his own head with a bar of soap (i can't find the link but if someone finds it lmk)

・❥・momentary dragon zhong!! modern au, readers a bit cuddly at the start lol, might not be suitable for all readers bc reader is a haircare nerd!! reader swears (this is a general warning for all my fics atp), i think thats it?? lmk??

zhongli was always put together, well presented, clean shaven, and always smelled of mahogany and vanilla, in fact, these were some of his most admirable traits. however, there was one thing that always puzzled you a little. 

when he was in his dragon form, zhonglis hair was always soft and silky, and looked perfectly healthy. but of course, nowadays it is rare for him to be in this form, and so he usually stays in mortal form for long periods of time in order to blend in with the general population of liyue. when in this form however, zhonglis hair is brittle and dry, seemingly with little to no explanation as to why. 

“zhongli,” you whisper against the fabric of a hoodie you insisted he buy (which he rejected initially. if it were up to him you would both be dressed in formal attire at almost all times of the day) “what’s up with your hair?”

“whatever do you mean?” he asks, large palm slowly rubbing the small of your back. he tilts his chin down to look at you as you rest your eyes, laying on his chest and fiddling with the ends of his ponytail.

“don’t you think its a little frizzy?” you ponder, moving your hand from his hair to instead grip on to his hoodie, fingers interlacing with the soft fabric as you sit up a little to meet his eyes. he would never admit to it, but watching you grip on to his clothing, looking all cozy was making the article grow on him, plus he knew you were a little sleepy, given you had gotten home and immediately insisted he cuddle with you. 

“is that supposed to be an insult?” he laughs, moving to a straighter sitting position, and allowing you to adjust by placing your legs either side of his, stretching them out behind him and tucking your head in to the gap between his shoulder and neck. 

“m’no, just an observation” you mumble against him. "it's always so healthy n-" you yawn mid-sentence, heaving your arms up around his neck, playing with the few stray hairs that sit at the back of his neck. "it's always helfy when y'do the thing… with the horns and the tail- n'stuff" you smack your lips a little every few words, eyelashes fluttering against the small portion of his collarbone which is exposed from under his hoodie. 

"you're tired dear, you should sleep" he says gently, palms still rubbing up and down your back. 

"buh if I sleep you'll-" you yawn again, unsurprisingly "you'll go n'do work or somethin'" 

"who told you that, hm? I've done all my work for the day. I'm more than content to lay here with you," he whispers "besides, I'm intrigued to hear more of your sleepy opinions on my appearance"

“don’t have any opinions, only facts,” you giggle, placing a soft kiss on his skin before putting your cheek down against it, closing your eyes. “trust, i’ll get to the bottom of this t’morrow” you smile and yawn another time.  

“fine, although i don’t think there's any problem with my haircare methods. rest well dear” he says, hands stilling on your back as the room falls to a desolate silence, only the sound of his breathing lulling you to rest. 

brightness is normally a positive thing, but not when it's hitting your eyes so early in the morning, and the bed is so empty. shouldn’t zhongli be here? you yawn, opening your eyes a little more to see the whole room, and no zhongli in sight. however, your ears quickly hear it, quiet liyuean opera music coming from somewhere downstairs. he has already started his day. 

you slowly, but surely make your way downstairs, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hands. you stumble upon zhongli in the living room, a computer on the coffee table in front of him, shirt sleeves rolled up and the muscles of his arms flexing as he types furiously, a puzzled expression lacing his features. 

“you’re awake, darling. did you sleep okay?” he asks, eyes parting with the laptop to meet yours.

“like a baby” you giggle as you take small steps over to him, tiredly flopping on the couch beside him, hugging one of his arms and looking up at him. “whatcha lookin at?” you ask, closing your eyes and taking in his scent, and the environment around you, the twang of the guzheng and soft air of flutes coming through the speaker in the corner of the room, and the feeling of his arm moving slowly from your grip, instead snaking its way around your shoulders 

“haircare methods,” he sighs, “i think i’ve realised the error of my ways”

“and that is…?” you raise an eyebrow at him, and he ultimately just looks embarrassed, cheeks flaring a slight shade of pink. 

“well, it would seem that the soap i use is rather abrasive” he sighs, leaning back in the chair and opening up a tab on his browser to reveal a branded bar of soap. soap. not shampoo, not conditioner, but soap. 

“soap?!” you ask, face contorting as if you had just had the shock of a lifetime. he nods sheepishly as you stare at him, moving up from your seat to get on your feet, grabbing his hands to drag him with you. 

“come”

“where are we going?” he asks, smiling a little as if to be doting upon your sudden investment in his hair.

“bathroom” you say, dragging him up the stairs, feet thumping as you march up the stairs. 

“what are we doing?” he inquires, following you into the bathroom, chuckling at you.

"reciting an extensive apology to your fucking hair follicles" you stare at him, face dead serious. your entire body is turned in the other direction, pulling out a wicker basket full of all your haircare products. 

"language" he reprimands, folding his arms and taking a seat on the edge of the bathtub.

"fuck fuck, shit fuck" you giggle, trying your hardest to invoke a reaction as you pull out different conditioning products from the basket. he just sighs. if it's you, such profanities can be excused in private, he supposes.

"don't be rude" he says, but he's secretly holding a laugh, watching you pull out some sort of deep conditioning pack, then squishing the liquid around in the packet.

"i'll be rude if i so wish" you taunt, sticking your tongue out before bursting out in laughter. "okay, sit on the floor" you say, setting the conditioning pack on the edge of the bath.

"excuse me?" he questions, standing up beside you, suddenly seeming a little taller than you remember. 

"you heard me, head over the edge of the tub, chop chop" 

"what on earth…?" he questions, kneeling with his head hanging fair over the bathtub.

"trust the process" you say, grabbing a towel from the rail on the other side of the room, putting it over his shoulders. you gently pull his hair tie out, watching the brown locks fall on to the towel.

"is this necessary?" he whines, tensing up a little when you move his hair off the towel, so that it went straight down in to the tub. 

"yes," you answer flatly, "now close your eyes" you say turning on the shower head. 

"why?" he asks, jumping a little in shock when you run the water over his head.

"too hot?" you ask, soaking his hair from scalp to tip. he shakes his head, and he's audibly breathing a little louder when the water runs down his cheeks. immediately after he feels you dump some sort of thick substance on his head. 

"what on earth is that?" he asks, watching your hands reach to rub the mask down through his hair. 

"conditioning mask" you answer, rinsing your hands under the tap, washing off the excess. “stay here” you instruct. 

“my love, where are you going?” zhongli sighs, but you’ve already ran to the bedroom, grabbing a t-shirt to wrap around his hair.

“okay, lift your head up” you smile, and he awkwardly complies, trying his very best not to get water everywhere as you get his hair together to go inside the tee. he stands on his feet once again, before sitting on the toilet seat, legs awkwardly jutting out in to the room as you clean up any spilled water.

after you finish wiping around the edge of the bath, you look up at him from where you are, and a fountain of giggles spills over somewhere within you. you simply cannot stop laughing at him, meanwhile zhongli is staring at you like a wet dog. frowning, he meets your eyes.

“do we have to do this again?” 

sfw masterlist || taglist: @lioria @celestetalkstoomuch

© tartigglez, 2023. do not copy, translate or repost, reblogs appreciated

[voiceofthesilly]

Hi, uhm.

Your designs for the voices in STP are..

Genius.

The premise of their design are simple (birds(?) with animal skull heads(?)) yet it makes them so distinguishable!

Also your art is very yummy- It's beautiful.

Ajsjadhdja thanku!! this means a lot, espeically since i love your designs for them a LOT Gonna take that as an opportunity to explain them some bc i havent really done that so beware, long rant under the cut

The general idea was for them to have masks of various woodland creatures, as a general reference to the cabin being set in the woods and to add a bit of a fairytale twist, as often in fairytales guiding voices in form of animals appear But thinking about it skulls are such a sick idea and might use them for less cartoony iterations honestly

From left to right!

Cold was actually pretty hard to pick an animal for - @3zethe3zr has been immense help figuring those out with various voices and we went through options like wolves and bears before i settled on lynx (quick, efficient and solitary assassin). I wanted Cold to feel big and overpowering, blocking out everything else. In a way that silence is big, sorta. You might also notice that they're the only voice without markings - its partially because everything i could come up with felt too on the nose, and partially because well. what symbol better than vast emptiness. Largest voice! 8'2" tall

Paranoid is a mouse, i feel like the association here is pretty straightforward. Big wings to hide behind and bald patches from overpreening. Their pattern is the eyes, they can't seem to get rid of them. Some on the feathers, some straight on the skin.

Hunted gets a hare mask because i said so and hares have amazing prey eyes. It's rather large, but always crouched over and ready to bolt, making it much smaller than it could be - Hunted always says we're small, but there's a moment where Wild refutes that. Of course it's not in reference to physical size there, but I wanted to use that nonetheless. Target mark on their chest and mask. Eyes on the side of the head - not sure where i heard it first but it was sych a good take i had to do it

Hero !!! I struggled a lot with the animal for them, went through a bunch of deer, wolf, even bird at some point (birds were off limits). In the end went with 3zr's squirrel suggestion - a little kind voice sitting on your shoulder. Hero also gets a cape, as a treat. for being there always. And because they're a hero and im no edna mode. Markings are the slits in a knight helmet!

Stubborn was im pretty sure the first one who got designed at all, due to intense stubborn brainrot. Animal is a boar, due to the mfs being extremely hard to kill, though i did want to go with a wolverine for a while. His mask is moved aside, he's straighforward and has no need for hiding anythin. Masks off and knives out, am i right . He's the shortest voice in the lineup (whole 3'7"). this is because im not tall and i like him. I tried to strike a balance between squarish and triangle build. His wings are proudly on display, and so are his scars - a testiment to our resilience.

Opportunist! my littlest guy who missed being a weasel by like 3 milimeters and ended up fox. because of course he did. He's fucking tiny - i usually like making voices who dont consider us strong bigger than they think, but in this case it felt fitting to make it something he works with. The markings are pointed knives, pretty self-explanatory i feel. Usually partially hidden under the chest feathers. Also, his arms are hidden behind his back here but the palms are red - blood on him hands

Smitten is a deer! They always felt very noble to me, and, well, heart shape in the antlers! The mask is somewhat ill-fitting and she can't see well but that's alright, love is blind. The largest marking by far - he's not one to hide his nature, and his heart is as big as the markings would suggest. I wanted to give her this sorta chivalrous fairytale knight build. Wings folded into a wing shape!

Contrarian is another long boi, i felt it would work well for whatever silly limb contortions hed do. The animal is a natterer's bat specifically - again, 3zr's genious idea

Neck feathers meant to resemble a jester's collar. Funky patterns meant to be confusing and disorientin. In the lineup in particular i didn't do it, but the idea is that with the mask slightly more up and beak open it almost looks like he has three heads, paralleling Stranger

Skeptic i wanted to have a very solid build, so square he is. The markings are question marks - both on the mask and feathers. He's a little silly with his saying wink out loud, so he gets to have a question mark tie. Wings folded behind mimicking a trench coat. He deserves glasses

Broken is actually second longest! It doesn't matter though, does it. They can be as large as they want, doesn't change anything. Mask is a raccoon dog - felt fitting vibewise. Bald patches around neck, wrists and ankles, as if remnants of shackles locked around them. The markings are meant to mimick both cracks (in shape) and chains (in layout). Mask pulled up for them double sad eyes and because there isnt even a point in hiding

Last up, cheated! Hedgehog bastard. I guess kinda paralleling Razor in that regard? They're not particularly big and their feathers are ruffled. Uses wings for extra expression! Markings meant to both resemble scars and diamond suit

Also, earlier verisons!

[ganondoodle]

I just wanna say firstly that i adore your artwork and takes6on Zelda in general! Secondly, much as I wish you never had to deal with the frustrations of creating (especially when you tack on the stress of being on any kind of social platform), I'm glad you talk about your struggle. I've heard people talk about art block every day since I learned what Art was, but nobody ever mentioned "painting oneself into a corner". It's such an apt description that is so infuriatingly relatable that I had to stop eating to thank you for putting it into words. I really appreciate that you're willing to talk about your setbacks in a place like Tumblr, and still share your arts and thoughts. All the best from US of hellscape A, i hope you're doing well.

Thank you!

i used to call it artblock as well, its the most normalized term i guess; i randomly started calling it painting myself into a corner when i got stuck or frustrated on a painting bc welll, it sure feels like it, you painted the walls all around you and dont know how to get out now

it usually happens when i stop having fun and just draw what i want and instead keep subconsciously forcing myself into arbitrary rules; in my case its usually trying to be too perfect, i try to adhere to the sketch, i try to make every block of color have a perfectly clean edge, separate the drawing into way too many layers and am afraid to delete or erase anything, i tense up my whole body as frustration builds bc of impatience as this method of painting does not work for me at all and in the end lose motivation on it all and my nerves are stretched thin (i work best when i think as little as possible, just kinda loosely letting my hand do what it wants on few layers and no specific plan, after losing that its hard to get it back)

having those low moments with your art is normal as your skill grows, but even knowing so, and having gone through it countless times, it never stops making you feel like shit, and its especially frustrating when it happens when you just got enough time to work on stuff or have alot of ideas but you cant get it to work

(and funnily enough it also tends to happen after another work of mine got more attention than i thought .. even worse when it was just a sketch bc now i got the pressure on me to actually finish it and the fear of it doing worse once done looms over the whole thing- which doesnt mean i dont want people to interact with my wips, bc that also has an extremely demotivating factor to it bc it makes me think no one cares or it sucks and doesnt deserve the time i would need to spend on finishing it; also .. alot of my wips stay wips forever, which is fine, but like .. you cant always expect a finished tm version to happen)

i do find it a little funny you praise me for talking openly about it bc i am notoriously unable to shut up ever and only recently got better at NOT talking as much about it when i feel as shitty as this bc it doesnt really help anyone and gets annoying really fast xD (im also notoriously unable to not post absolutely everything bc i got no one to show it to and otherwise it will just collect dust on my harddrive so i might as well throw it out there no matter how much i might hate it, someone else might still enjoy it anyway)

and greetings back from the -not really much less of a hellscape- that is germany o/

[teddybeartoji]

CHALLENGERS (2024)

i've been racking my brain for quite some time now to come up with a way to really express how i feel about this film - and i think the best way to do it is just to say that it truly made me want to get into filmmaking. and that it made me feel so fucking alive. it felt like a different type of oxygen. like crack or something. this is obviously going to be a ramblepost so i apologize if it's super fucking messy. also big spoilers will come with a warning so don't worry abt that. i am going insane.

+ btw here's the trailer if u don't know anything abt this hehehehe

anywayy i've never sat through a WHOLE film with a smile on my face bc i was just so fucking excited. elated is a really good word here i think. all of the following thoughts and words are in fact coming from my lower tummy bc no other film has turned me on so much as this did. it's not about sex btw.

luca guadagnino understands. he really fucking does. this guy is everything i want to be. it's all about the intimacy and the closeness. the sweat. the colors. the eyes. the dialogue. the camerawork. the build-up. staging and blocking. lighting. it is about sex but not in the way that you think. forget about porn and smut and whatever the fuck you think sex is. it's about watching and observing. taking everything in. it's about your heartbeat. the warm and fuzzy feeling in your stomach. a tightening knot. want and desire. anger. the rawness of it all. just the way things should be. forget about quickies and think about your best friend thinking about your lover. it's hot, right? it's about the rush. it's about sharing and not sharing. it's about greed and envy. think about sore muscles - how good they feel. think about flashing lights and thrumming bass in your ears. it's about music that makes you feel alive. it's about nudity, it's about power. humility and the absolute lack of it. it's about real humans, real people. eroticism. kissing. disgust. need. spit and saliva. tongues dancing together. muscles. skin on skin. laughter. love and something that's very akin to it but not quite the same. extreme close-ups and moments in slow motion, followed by fast-paced cuts and scenes. slapping. teasing and bickering. it's about everything i could possibly want in this fucking life and luca just handed it all to me on a silver platter.

i'm trying so hard to make this as coherent as possible lmao please bear with me i quite literally shed a couple of tears just from the overwhelming feeling this film gave me.

the casual intimacy is insane in this. one really specific thing made me absolutely lose it - there are TWO scenes where art spits out his gum into people's hands. the first is with tashi and the second time it's with patrick - both times they stand so close together that they're almost brushing against each other and they keep eye contact. there's zero disgust, there's no ew you just spit your gum into my hand. they ask for it. both times, patrick and tashi, hold out their palms for art to do it, and they do it without a word. no please or spit it out. i loved it so fucking much i wish i was better with words bc this genuinely had such a big effect on me. this type of intimacy is so important to me. it feels so real.

the dialogue was fucking great. i feel like the script is often where i might get The Ick bc i just hate when it's just so clear that it was written down without a second thought abt whether or not people actually talk like that (ok this actually might just be a problem with every single film my country makes but still). this felt good!!!!! they talk over people, they talk about small irrelevant things. they repeat what they said, they giggle, they laugh - again, it just felt so real and i loved it.

also. men in shorts. sweaty men in shorts. with shirts and without shirts. biceps. more sweat. muscles. we need more of that in life actually. i think men should wear shorter shorts and they should bend over more. ALSO MIDRIFF. SHIRTS RISING UP JUST A LITTLE, GIVING US A GLORIOUS PEEK OF WHAT'S UNDERNEATH. WHEN I TELL YOU THAT LUCA UNDERSTANDS I FUCKING MEAN THAT SHIT.

THE SOUNDTRAAAACKKKKKK RRRRRAAAAHHHHHHH EVERYBODY SAY THANK YOU TRENT REZNOR AND ATTICUS ROSS WE LOVE YOU TRENT REZNOR AND ATTICUS ROSS!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean it's obviously not a surprise that the score slaps so hard bc well... these guys have yet to make a bad score lmao. but this one is genuinely one of my favourite scores i think. super fast paced, exhilarating - it suits the film so fucking good holy shit. fuck it i'll give you a few songs:

challengers: match point + yeah 10x + pull over +

the cast was incredible. and also very hot. i think they were all so fucking perfect and i have literally zerooo complaints abt them i loved them so much. but if i had to pick a favourite performance... it's josh o'connor as patrick zweig. fuuuuckkkk, man. ok maybe i'm a bit biased here i do wanna kinda eat him buTTTTTTT HE'S AN AMAZING ACTOR OKAY. i loved his character soooooo fucking much and i think he did such a good job at portraying this little silly fucked up guy. the way he looks at art, the way he acts around art...

here are two crazy fucking examples for you the churro + the chair uhhhhhhh i am very unwell abt them actually what the fuuuuckkkkk

oke but yeah i just might be really down bad bc i really do love overly cocky assholes with beautiful big smiles okay don't judge me

THE VISUALSSSSS OH MY FUCKING GODD THE COLORSSS!!!!!!!! IT WAS SOOOOOOOOOOOO BRIGHT AND PRETTY AND FUN AND ALIVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE EVERYBODY CHEEERRSSS!!!!!!!!! it's such a big problem nowdays that all of the films are so fucking dark like bro where's the sun...... dark and just very dull you know??? and i hate it i hate it so much. this was great though. again - super birhgt and colorful, luca plays with the light like a god and he's really making me believe that the cinema is truly backk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

they also mentioned spider-verse!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i <3 luca fr

okay i think this covers most of it. i think. i have already decided that i'm gonna go and see it again next week so i'm sure that i'll be returning to this post!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i hope you can all feel my love for this wonderful piece of art and i hope that you all will go and watch it aswell!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1 ily thank you for reading<333333

[heyiwrotesomethings]

I had this idea soely bc of Wednesday on netflix: Mitsuri x a rather unexpressionable, cold, and blunt reader who ended up being roomates in a Modern AU. Kinda like enemies to friends to lovers because of how unintentionally rude the reader is to Mitsuri after finding out she had to room with a touchy and bubbly muti-colored haired woman. And maybe they fall in-love with eachother when reader defends Mitsuri from a rather rude student with their harsh words?

Woe-oh the Misery

Mitsuri Kanroji x She/Her Reader Modern AU

A/N: I really liked this idea. I finished Wednesday a couple weeks ago and I thought it was pretty good! Unfortunately I couldn’t get a lot of enemies storyline in here because I’m trying to make my stuff not so long. Hope it’s still acceptable, thanks for reading! Word Count: 4,864

Mitsuri had been so excited for the beginning of the new semester. A fresh start at a new university, new room, new roommate. She could hardly wait! She even arrived a few days early to settle in and decorate her side of the room.

She fluffed her pillows and straightened her mountain of fuzzy blankets and plushies. Her roommate could be coming at any time today! Mitsuri could honestly say she knew nothing about the girl other than her name. She had tried looking her up on all the usual social media sites to try to connect before the semester began, but her search yielded absolutely nothing.

That didn’t bother Mitsuri too much. She found it admirable that her future roomie didn’t have a social media presence. Sometimes Mitsuri wanted to throw her phone out of the window, but then how else would she see all the cute and colorful things she liked? Gain affirmations and praise for her art and cute outfits? It was just too bad that there were also mean-spirited people that came around to try to negate those kind words.

Mitsuri had just straightened one of her frilly heart pillows for the twelfth time when she heard a thump and the door begin to rattle. She was so excited, Mitsuri didn’t know what to do with herself. All of how she had planned to introduce herself escaped her brain entirely.

The door swung out and Mitsuri nearly went out with it, a bright smile accompanying her glittering eyes. She braced herself against the doorframe with both hands on either side, leaning out into the hall, she came face to face with her new roommate.

“Howdy, roomie!” She nearly squealed, wiggling excitedly.

Her roommate’s stunned silence was enough to give Mitsuri a moment of pause and actually take in her appearance.

She was… very monochrome.

“You are exceedingly colorful, simply looking at you burns. I think you may permanently damage my retinas. Excuse me.”

Mitsuri blinked, then slowly stepped aside to allow her roommate, (Y/n), inside. She watched (Y/n) survey her side of the room, biting her inner lip when when she saw the muted look of displeasure that came over (Y/n)’s otherwise emotionless face.

“And decor to match… horrifying.”

“Do you need help bringing your stuff in? I’m pretty strong.” Mitsuri flexed jokingly, but (Y/n) looked unamused.

“Touch my belongings without my explicit consent, and you may have your muscles peeled from your bones. Some of these artifacts are quite temperamental.”

Mitsuri wisely hung back after that comment and instead watched from the sidelines as (Y/n) brought her belongings in. Everything (Y/n) owned seemed to be black, white, or some shade of grey.

“Looks like I’m not the only matching one.” Mitsuri smiled shyly. This was a bit of an uncomfortable introduction, but maybe (Y/n) was just having a bad day, or she was anxious around new people. Mitsuri could understand that. They could still be friends!

“Yes. I prefer these as they are not a total assault on the senses.” (Y/n) replied bluntly. “Perhaps I should invest in two curtains. One to block the sun from that oversized window, and another to obscure your side of the room.”

Okay, laying it on a little too thick there…

Mitsuri shook her head. She was going to make this work! She stepped forward, arms outstretched,

“Well, I’m glad you’re here! Welcome new bestie!”

Before Mitsuri could completely envelop (Y/n) in her arms, the monochromatic girl took a step back, her fingertips pressed high against Mitsuri’s chest to keep her from following through.

“Hug me, and that may just be the last thing you ever do.” She warned in a soft monotone. Almost like a buzzing of an angry bee.

“O-oh… kay.”

Mitsuri slowly lowered her arms and then (Y/n) lowered her own hand in turn.

“I must unpack the rest of my belongings. I think I will start with mounting my katana collection on the wall. If you are as loud as the colors you wear, we may have,” she half-unsheathed a sword to check the sharpness of the blade, “to correct that.” She then fully sheathed the katana again with a click that made Mitsuri flinch.

Mitsuri was almost certain weapons like that were not allowed on campus, but she didn’t feel safe enough at the moment to tell (Y/n) that.

“I’ll just, um, leave you to it then…” Mitsuri fiddled with the end of one of her braids. Maybe just one more attempt at being friendly? “Would you like to get dinner at the cafeteria together after?”

Mitsuri did not receive a reply. Instead (Y/n) kept her back to her as she began nailing a rack to the wall beside her bed. Mitsuri knew that was also against the university’s dorm policies, but she doubted (Y/n) cared.

“Okay… good talk.” Mitsuri decided to grab her ID and her phone to go eat dinner early before the dining room got too crowded. Maybe (Y/n) would be a little more relaxed once she got all settled in. She stopped just before closing the door, keeping her head inside the room, but giving herself enough cover that she could quickly dodge any pointy projectiles.

“See you later, roomie.”

“Begone already, harbinger of glitter and pink. Do not tease me with your impending departure so.” (Y/n) drawled, giving Mitsuri a dismissive flick of her hammer before continuing on.

Mitsuri closed the door and briefly rested her back against the wood with a disappointed frown.

This new chapter in her life was already not quite going how she had imagined it would. She could only hope (Y/n) would come around eventually, but for now… Mitsuri clenched her fists, determined. For now, she would do her best to really put herself out there and make some friends.

***

And Mitsuri did manage to make a few friends over those first couple weeks. She met Kyoujirou at a free Zumba lesson and they got along very quickly, soon becoming workout buddies. They would meet up for free class events at least three times a week, always texting photos of flyers they would find around campus. And of course they always had to go out to eat afterwards, so they were always looking for the poor college student deals for meals as well. The community learned to fear those two when they would come in together.

Then she had met Shinobu in the bookstore. Shinobu had helped her figure out how to find her books and they realized that they shared a class and both were planning on joining the bee keeping club. Though Shinobu was interested in the science of entomology, Mitsuri shyly admitted that though the bees were cute, she was more interested in the honey they’d get to bring home. Shinobu chuckled, assuring her that it was just as valid a reason as any.

She met Obanai during a late breakfast one day. Since the cafeteria was crowded, she asked to sit with him. He reminded her a bit of her roommate in monochrome, only he at least made attempts to be friendly despite his obvious discomfort. Mitsuri had been embarrassed for not realizing it sooner, but he had also been the one to help her navigate through the arts building when she was one more wrong turn away from openly sobbing. He had helped her find her classroom before she could be late.

Now if only she could get along with her gloomy and macabre roommate. Well, it wasn’t like they didn’t get along. That would imply more antagonism and contempt than there really was. (Y/n) could be blunt and rude at times, but she was mostly quiet and respectful of Mitsuri’s space.

Except for that one time Mitsuri had been accidentally listening to K-pop without headphones. She thought that (Y/n) was genuinely going to kill her there for a second, but she simply glared at her (more intensely than usual) from her side of the room. That could have been because of her aversion to color, but Mitsuri wasn’t entirely convinced that (Y/n) wasn’t a vampire and could only come to her side of the room if invited. But honestly, that possibility didn’t scare Mitsuri, what did disturb her was that (Y/n) didn’t like Twice. Who didn’t like Twice!? Regardless, Mitsuri believed (Y/n) must be nice under all of her, um, spookinesses.

Even though weeks had passed since the semester had started, Mitsuri couldn’t find it in herself to give up on becoming friends with (Y/n). She made sure to give her a wide berth, but she still tried to forge a connection between them.

“I think it’s really cool how good you are with swords. Do you think you could teach me something about them sometime?”

“I haven’t the time nor desire.”

“I heard there is a scary movie marathon on the student-run television station this weekend. It’s not really my thing… but I’d watch it with you if you want!”

“The fake gore disappoints me.”

Attempt after attempt, olive branch after olive branch, but (Y/n) didn’t bite. Well, she did threaten to on the couple of occasions that Mitsuri forgot that (Y/n) didn’t like to be touched. She just couldn’t help it sometimes! Not when (Y/n) looked so much like a grumpy kitten!

Her friends had told her on numerous occasions to give up on her already, but that just didn’t sit right with Mitsuri. She continued to talk to (Y/n), even if she said nothing in return, and she kept inviting her to tag along to various parties and events until one day, she was actually taken up on an offer.

“Hey, I need to find old stuff to make a sculpture for a class. There is this creepy antique shop nearby that I’m not too excited to visit for supplies, but I think you’d like it so will you come with me? Make sure I don’t get cursed?” She half joked.

(Y/n) peered at Mitsuri over the worn book she had been reading, and Mitsuri was surprised when (Y/n) closed the tome and set it aside.

“It’s been awhile since I had a good curse thrust upon me. I can’t have any wasted on you, so I suppose I’ll accompany you just this once.”

“Really?” Mitsuri beamed.

“Dim yourself before I change my mind.” (Y/n) warned, shielding her eyes as if she were looking at the sun.

“Sorry!” Mitsuri shrunk back a bit, chagrined.

“Don’t apologize. Just,” (Y/n) sighed softer than a passing breeze. She presented her open hand and slowly lowered her fingers to her thumb, “You tend to talk loudly. It rattles my brain and although not entirely unpleasant, it makes people stare at you more than they already do, and when people stare, I find myself wishing to gouge out their eyes. Regretfully, going to prison would interfere with my four year plan timeline. You understand.”

“Yeah,” Mitsuri smiled worriedly, a bead of sweat rolled down her cheek, “totally.”

“Lead the way then.”

(Y/n) followed Mitsuri down the sidewalk, listening to her blabber away about her classes, bee keeping and the like. Her voice fluctuated in volume when she got particularly excited or remembered a ‘juicy’ detail pertaining to whatever story she chose fit to retell. If it bothered (Y/n), she kept it to herself, but if anyone so much as looked at Mitsuri the wrong way, (Y/n) sent deathwaves in their direction.

Ordinarily, (Y/n) couldn’t care less about the people around her. In fact, the less she had to interact with them the better. Mitsuri was becoming a startling outlier however. Yes, she had vibrant hair and an even brighter personality, but she was also sickeningly sweet and wore her heart on her sleeve.

A terrible place to wear one’s heart. Too easily accessible. Too easy to be stabbed, broiled, eaten… that was why (Y/n) had taken it upon herself to keep Mitsuri from harm, as best as she could anyhow. She still wasn’t exactly used to the whole, ugh, ‘caring’ thing and to be honest she was disgusted with herself for even making an effort.

But Mitsuri’s warmth was something that needed to be protected.

It is the duty of the strong to protect the sweet.

Well, Mitsuri was plenty strong on her own, but for her to use that strength in a fit of violence was apparently inconceivable to the girl. Which was a shame because (Y/n) had determined that it would be quite possible for Mitsuri to crush a human skull between her thighs. Why had she determined such a thing? Anyone dare ask and they would find themselves mummifying in a bog.

“Oh my gosh, it’s even creepier up close!” Mitsuri whined, causing (Y/n) to tune back in to the world around her.

The antique shop looked as if it was an antique itself. It almost didn’t look like it should be in business at all, but the dusty open sign on the door suggested otherwise.

“Are we going in, or not?”

“Can, could you go first maybe? Please?”

(Y/n) sighed inwardly before stepping forward. A little bell chimed the moment she opened the door. She walked inside with Mitsuri following close behind.

“Good afternoon!” The elderly woman, (because of course an elderly woman would be running the antique shop) called. “If you have any questions, just yell. Hearings’ not what it used to be.”

“Thank you!” Mitsuri smiled shyly before tentatively moving about the dusty store.

(Y/n) followed, reguarding the items they passed with muted interest. Most of it looked like trash to her, but there were some promising looking items.

Mitsuri suddenly yelped and staggered back, tripping on an uneven floorboard. She braced herself to hit the ground, but instead she was caught. Looking up, she found (Y/n)’s unamused eyes boring into her. She stared back, frozen.

“I will drop you if you continue to make no effort to right yourself.” (Y/n) warned in a soft tone that sent a shiver up and down Mitsuri’s spine.

For a moment, Mitsuri assumed it was a response based in fear, but her face felt too warm for that to be the case. She quickly apologized and stood on her own once more.

“What disturbed you?” (Y/n) asked, peering behind Mitsuri.

“Look there, isn’t that so sad?”

Mitsuri pointed at a nearby shelf of several taxidermied creatures depicting an array of puns. It made (Y/n) shudder. Puns.

“How gauche.”

“The sooner we’re done here, the better.”

So they continued on through the creepy little shop of curiosities. Mitsuri did find some things for her sculpture, more than she could carry. She was surprised when (Y/n) took the pile from her arms.

“I will bring these to the front. Don’t touch anything until I get back.”

“Oh, okay, thank you.”

Mitsuri watched (Y/n) go, then went back to perusing the shelves. She went deeper and deeper into the bowels of the shop. It had looked so much smaller on the outside…

“Another creepy death display… what is with this place?” Mitsuri shivered.

In the dark corner of the store, where the air was noticeably thicker, lights the dimmest they had been yet, there was a glass display case with various bugs pinned inside. It was unsettling, and something that Mitsuri would ordinarily quickly scuttle around, but she continued to look, even daring to step closer.

“Maybe this would be something Shinobu would be interested in.” She reached her hand out for the display, only to have her hand snatched away in the grasp of another, nearly making her scream until she registered the familiar black nail polish.

“Was I not clear when I told you not to touch anything while I was gone?” (Y/n) asked, pulling Mitsuri further away from the display.

“Y-yeah, but—“

(Y/n) let go off Mitsuri’s hand, almost drawing a whine from her due to the loss. She moved to stand to the side of the display and began listing off what she saw.

“White moths, black butterflies, scarabs, notably dead,” she turned to Mitsuri briefly, “an important distinction, I assure you. A bee pinned to a sliver of rotted wood, locusts, and most on the nose, a deathwatch beetle. Do you know what these represent, Kanroji?”

“Um…” Mitsuri’s face couldn’t have been warmer. She felt like she had just been cold called in class.

“They are omens of misfortune and death.”

The warmth Mitsuri had felt upon (Y/n)’s touch plummeted to freezing. She went from pink to pale in a matter of seconds.

“You asked me to make sure you didn’t get cursed on this outing. Do not act in a way that will cause me to fail.” (Y/n) glared. She took hold of Mitsuri’s wrist and looped her around the bend in the shelves, away from the dark corner.

It was a little harder to shake off the folklore lesson and continue on as they had been. But Mitsuri did find a few more things she wanted to use. She did however, cautiously point at items from then on. Her eyes big and a tad fearful as she waited for (Y/n)’s verdict.

When they finally returned to the front of the store, the old woman looked vaguely annoyed and was not nearly as pleasant as she had seemed when they first entered. She roughly bagged the purchases and sent them on their way.

“What was her problem?” Mitsuri frowned upon the door’s exiting chime.

“Probably upset that she’s failed to live her “Needful Things” fantasy. I’ll have to admit, she did have a few items I would have liked for my own collection. Perhaps I’ll return on a later date.”

“Please don’t.” Mitsuri hugged (Y/n)’s arm to her, “Let’s promise to forget that place exists, please?”

(Y/n) looked down at her arm and Mitsuri’s encircling it. A disgusting fluttering erupted in her chest and she stiffly pulled herself away. The chill that enveloped her arm at Mitsuri’s absence was like that of her family crypt but not at all pleasant.

“Fine.” She tersely agreed. Why would she agree to any of Mitsuri’s silly requests? She felt weird. And again, not a good weird.

“Thank goodness.” Mitsuri sighed in relief, “Now let’s get away from here.”

(Y/n) leaves with Mitsuri, thinking that old hag might have snuck a curse upon her somehow.

***

“I can’t believe my art will actually get to be in the exhibition!” Mitsuri excitedly told Obanai. “Freshman pieces are almost never chosen!”

“I’m happy for you Mitsuri. I know you’ve worked hard on it and I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve been so secretive about for the past month.” Obanai said, a hint of a teasing tone coming through while his gaze turned to his feet as they walked.

He knew everything about painting except for the painting itself. Mitsuri had often vented and fretted over the work in progress to Shinobu, Kyoujirou and Obanai himself, but refused to actually describe what she was trying to depict. Something that drove Shinobu crazy in particular.

“I couldn’t just tell you what I was doing, that would ruin the impact of actually seeing it in person!” Mitsuri defended.

Her mind had been occupied by a certain ooky kooky roommate ever since a certain trip to a-place-never-to-be-brought-up-again. Those thoughts had bled into her most current project. Understandably, just the thought of telling anyone that she thought of her roommate so much that her painting was inspired by her made Mitsuri flustered. No one should be able to come to that conclusion from simply looking at it at least.

Speak of the devil, a dark figure caught Mitsuri’s eye against the colorful backdrop of fallen leaves and she lit up. It was so rare to see her roommate actually out and about, and in broad daylight no less!

Fueled by the excitement of her good news, she ran to catch up with (Y/n), pleasantly surprised that (Y/n) had stopped and turned around when she called out to her.

“(Y/n)!” Mitsuri couldn’t stop herself from grasping (Y/n)‘s cold hand in hers, “My professor asked to show one of my paintings at the next student gallery coming up. I would really appreciate it if you’d stopped by to take a look. Will you come?”

(Y/n) deliberately pulled her hand away from Mitsuri’s and gave her the same blank stare she always did, though not nearly as piercing as the girl would have liked, “I prefer the work of tortured artists. Ask me again when you are wrought with delirium and plagued with visions of death.” She said before walking away.

Mitsuri had to admit, that one hurt. She thought she was finally getting passed (Y/n)’s frigid crypt doors.

“She’s rude.” Obanai clicked his tongue, glaring at (Y/n)’s back as she walked away, “I don’t know why you even bother with her. Kochou is right, if she acts like this, it’s no wonder why she doesn’t have any friends.”

Except she didn’t feel cold to Mitsuri, she never really did. Even when she glared at Mitsuri, there was a certain softness there, hiding just below the surface. Beneath the thorns, threats, fire and brimstone, (Y/n) had a good heart. Mitsuri just knew.

It was disappointing that (Y/n) didn’t want to go to her art show, but Mitsuri understood. She knew (Y/n) well enough that a bright room filled with people was not something she would willingly subject herself to.

“She’s not bad.” Mitsuri told him, continuing in the direction of the campus coffee shop, “She’s really not.”

“Could have fooled me.” Obanai subtlety rolled his eyes as he opened the door for Mitsuri.

I’m serious.” Mitsuri smiled to herself, “She’s actually kind of sweet in her own way.”

***

Mitsuri was low key freaking out.

The gallery was opening in only a few minutes and it was only that morning that she learned that she was expected to stand beside her piece and answer questions about her artist statement to curious visitors.

She had already botched the statement by not being completely honest about her inspiration and what the painting represented to her, it would be harder to lie straight to peoples’ faces!

Mitsuri swiped the warm sweat from beneath her bangs as people slowly began filtering into the room.

Fortunately, most people seemed content to take a quick look and move on to the next work. Kyoujirou, Shinobu and Obanai also came by to keep her company for awhile and admire her painting. Shinobu did give her a bit of a hard time with her teasing questions, but overall things were going smoothly. A couple people even asked if she would consider selling the painting, but she turned them down. There was already someone she wanted to give it to.

“Are you kidding me?”

The sudden sharp voice that cut through the gentle music playing within the gallery made Mitsuri flinch. She turned to look behind her to see an unwelcome sight.

Before her was a small group, the leader was noticeably one of the upperclassman from her art class. She had always kind of given Mitsuri a hard time, but after she found out that Mitsuri’s art would be showcased over her own, she had gotten worse.

“You really used water color as the medium? What do you think this is, kindergarten?” Her lackeys snickered around her, making Mitsuri shrink back.

“Water color is as beautiful and meaningful a medium as any other.” Mitsuri defended, though her body language was far from confident. If only Kyoujirou, Obanai or Shinobu were still meandering around!

“That spot should be mine,” the woman glowered, her underlings brought attention to the covered canvas carried between them, “so take that off of the wall and get out of my way, okay? I’m taking my spot.”

“I…” Mitsuri pursed her lips and looked down at her feet.

What good would it do to argue? The gallery would be open for another two hours. She really didn’t think she could stand her ground for that long, she didn’t want to. She should just take her things and go…

“Too slow.” The woman reached her hand out to take the painting down herself. She certainly didn’t look like she would be gentle about it either.

But her hand was quickly snatched up, bent at a painful looking angle by a hand with black colored nails.

“Don’t you know you are not permitted to touch the masterpieces on exhibit, or are you really that moronic?”

“(Y/n)!” Mitsuri clasped her hands to her chest, eyes gleaming.

(Y/n)’s eyes found hers, keeping her tight hold on the upperclassman’s awkwardly bent hand, she gave Mitsuri a slow blink of acknowledgment before stepping closer to the upperclassman, further bending her hand backwards.

“Ow! Let go of me, freak!”

“I can make this so much more worse for you, believe me.”

Mitsuri swallowed thickly. How did (Y/n) manage to frown in such away that it almost looked like a smile in the right light?

One of the upperclassman’s goons tried to push (Y/n) away, but her other hand shot out, a small knife glinting in the light forced the goon back with a fearful yelp.

When (Y/n) was sure they would not step up again, she leveled the blade with the upperclassman’s face.

“You want to be recognized for your trash so badly? It may help to cut of a phalange or too,” she lightly skimmed the knife against their cheek,” perhaps an earlobe?”

“Let me go,” the upperclassman’s eyes were fearful “let me go, I’ll leave! I promise I’ll leave!”

“Apologize for your insolence.”

“I’m sorry!”

“Not me, her.” (Y/n)’s eyes flickered to Mitsuri who was still standing dumbstruck by the display before her. How was no one else seeing this?

“I’m sorry! So, so sorry!” The upperclassman yelped again.

Seemingly satisfied, (Y/n) let her go. The upperclassman stumbled back into her lackeys, into her canvas as well, bending it, then they all fled the gallery together, only looking back to make sure (Y/n) wasn’t chasing them.

The knife disappeared up (Y/n)’s sleeve as she turned to face Mitsuri fully. There were a lot of things Mitsuri thought to say, but ultimately they only two words she could push through her lips were,

“You came.”

“I just happened to be in the area.” (Y/n) informed, looking elsewhere until her eyes caught sight of Mitsuri’s painting. She moved in for a closer look.

The canvas was about a square foot in size. In the foreground, there was a branch mostly bare, save for a few sparse clusters of petals. Cherry blossoms if (Y/n) were to guess. The detail was exquisite and the branch almost seemed to leap off of the page, but perhaps more prominent focal point of the piece was the black raven perched on one of the thicker limbs. It’s beak was nuzzled against one of the clusters of blossoms, it’s eye stared into the painting’s viewer, as if warning them away from the sparse blossoms, protecting them from scattering too early.

“It’s ah,” (Y/n) flinched minutely at Mitsuri’s voice, “probably too plain, huh?”

“Not at all.” She disagreed. “Don’t belittle yourself in my presence. Don’t belittle yourself at all, because I will find out and I will punish you accordingly.”

“Okay!” Mitsuri squeaked.

They stood quietly side by side while people moved around them to other exhibits. After a long moment of silence, (Y/n) spoke again,

“I have deduced that you are the sakura blossoms, but what does the raven represent. You seem vague about it in your statement.”

Mitsuri’s face grew pinker as she tried to find a tactful way to answer. She hadn’t expected (Y/n) to come, she had hoped to tell her in the safety and privacy of their dorm room.

“You don’t need to tell me if it distresses you, but I do enjoy watching you squirm.”

That only made Mitsuri blush more furiously, made her brain spin and stomach flip-flop. When another barely there smile graced (Y/n)’s face once more, Mitsuri became completely unintelligible.

Finally Mitsuri took her own painting off of the wall and thrust it into (Y/n)’s hands before hiding her face behind her fingers.

“For you.” She said hurriedly.

(Y/n) cocked her head to the side and looked down at the painting in its new angle.

“Really?”

Mitsuri nodded, face still covered. Which was a shame, because she missed the bashful expression that crossed (Y/n)’s face for all of two seconds.

“I know just where I’ll hang it up in our room then. Thank you. However, the event has not yet ended, so let’s keep it here for now.”

(Y/n) spoke so softly that Mitsuri lowered her hands to reveal a small smile that only grew the longer (Y/n) stayed beside her.

“Are you keeping me company?”

“I suppose. This is mostly as a precaution to make sure no other entitled fools try anything.”

Mitsuri stood a little closer then. Close enough to brush against (Y/n)’s arm. It wasn’t to hug she wanted to give her, but in a public place like this it seemed more appropriate for someone as reserved as (Y/n). But the slight pressure still made her heart race because (Y/n) pressed back and held the position.

[whatthesigma69]

Barty Crouch Jr x Reader👍

WARNINGS:Age Gap, Cursing, Terrible grammar😭

I sat down on my seat in Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Professor Moody walked into class, late. Again.

"This is the 3rd time he's been late this week" My friend whispers next to me, "I know right? I swear I feel like he's hiding something" I responded, glancing at Professor Moody.

Time Skip bc I'm lazy

I walked around the halls of the school, I was going back to my house when I passed the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, the curiosity got the better of me and I quietly opened the door and peeked inside to see a tall, quite handsome man, "What the fuck?" I whispered to myself, the man glanced over at me, his eyes slightly widened and he looked pissed but nervous, I quickly began to close the door but he stopped it. He then dragged me inside and locked the door.

"Who the hell are you!?" I yelled towards the man, he grabbed me and put his hand around my mouth, "Shut it." He glared at me his tongue flicked out of his mouth quickly then went back in. I examines his feature, he had dark brown eyes, brown hair and he was pretty rugged.

I tried to say something but his hand blocked my mouth, "I'll let you go.. if." He picked me up and placed me on his chair and then leaned down in front of me, towering over me, "One. You don't shout. Two. You tell absolutely nobody about this. You tell one soul and you just might regret it. Now. Can I trust you?" He raised an eyebrow, I nodded quickly and he removed his hand from my mouth, still towering over me as I sat on the chair, "W-whats your name? Who are you" I asked, nervously, He smirked and his tongue flicked out and back in again, "I.. am Barty Crouch.. Jr" He said, still smirking, I had recognized the name, my father was friends with the man back when they were at Hogwarts.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, my heart rate increasing, he sighed slightly and glanced at me with lust-filled eyes, "I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Darling" He said in a flirtatious voice, I nodded, feeling too nervous to ask why he couldn't, he leaned in closer to me and smirked a little more, his tongue flicking in and out again "You know.. I never met someone like you" He stared into my eyes, he put his hand on my cheek and carresed it, still smirking at me, "Someone so.. innocent.. so nice..... So.. inexperienced" His smirk grew wider as his tongue flicking in an out of his mouth again, I could feel heat rushing to my cheeks.

He kneeled down so he was closer to me, he put his hand on the back of my neck, he leaned in and kissed me, his lips were unexpectedly soft, he was a good kisser, definitely experienced, he slid his tongue in my mouth and his tongue started to explore my mouth. It felt so wrong but it also felt so right, I was a teenage girl, He was an adult man, but something in me couldn't pull away, his kisses felt so addictive and so passionate.

We continued to make out until we pulled away, I was out of breath slightly, His fingers stroked the back of my neck, "You won't tell anyone, right?" He whispered, seductively, I nodded, he stood up, "Now. Go back to your house before your housemates get suspicious" He ordered, I nodded and got up and headed for the door, He grabbed my arm and kissed me again, his hand grabbed the back of my head, deepening the kiss before he lets go, I smiled and left.

Once I went back to my houses common room, I was bombarded with questions, "Where have you been?" "We were so worried!" "What happened?" I quickly shushed them and told him, "I went around the walk to clear my head. I'm sorry I worried you guys" They forgave me and I went to sleep.

Woo! It was so fun to make this! Would you guys like a part 2 because I'd be more than happy to make one!

[giganonyx]

TBB SEASON 3 SPOILERS

HEADS UP- I WILL BE TAGGING EACH OF MY EPISODE REVIEW THINGS WITH “tbb s3 spoilers”, AND OTHER SPOILER TAGS, PLEASE BLOCK THESE TAGS SO U DONT GET SPOILED!!!

AHHHHH OMEGA MY BABY. She has a pony tail stoppp my child is all grown up I will cry. Ok but she ate the new hairstyle she is slaying.

ERGH SHE HAS BEEN THERE 150 DAYS. Sick and twisted. She contrasts SO heavily with the whole sterile, orderly environment, it’s literally heartbreaking to watch. Forced into this mindless routine, her hopeful attitude constantly being beaten down on?? HURTING. GET HER OUT OF THIS HELL HOLE.

GOD seeing Crosshair look so broken BROKE ME. His shaking hands??? They took away the ONE thing he still had- his superior sniping skills, his steady hand. They took that AWAY from him. FUCKED UP. THEY TORE HIM DOWN. I can’t I’m so sad.

DADDY’S HOMEEEJWJWISNWIANQOQOQB (Hunter was on screen for the first time this season) (He is SO FINE)(MY HUSBAND HAS RETURNED FROM HIS HIATUS IN A TRAUMATIZED STATE BUT NONETHELESS HAS RETURNED TO GRACE MY SCREEN AND BE THE LIGHT OF MY LIFE)

I had a horrible sense of dread overtake my body when he said something like “our mission isn’t over yet”… like idk I felt so ILL. PAIN. WHY do I have the feeling my man isn’t going to make it SHUT UP.

ALSO HIM MAKING RECKLESS DECISIONS???? The kidnapping of his daughter and the death of his brother have done a NUMBER on this man.

WRECKER my cutie patootie!! Yk it’s bad when Wrecker starts to become a voice of reason (which, Hunter in his desperate mindset, promptly ignores 😭)

HAHBANQKNSJQQKO CROSSHAIR IS SO FUNNY DURING HIS ESCAPE WITH OMEGA- literal snark fest

Need Omega bullying a mouse droid on repeat.

Stop mouse droid bullying 😭

OOOO NALA SE’S WARNING TO OMEGA TO LEAVE?? I’m scared. And Omega ate it up tho. She said “say less lmao I’m gone ✌️”.

Did palpy not feel a disturbance into the force. Was bro so into the “project Necromancer deets” he couldn’t tell his vessel was peacing out. Common Palpy L.

RUN OMEGA TAKE YOUR SARCASTIC BROTHER WITH U

JUST A GIRL AND HER DOG AND HER GRUMPY BROTHER EHEHEHEHE

OUGAHHH OK OK IM BOUNCING AROUND EPISODES HERE BUT STAY WITH ME

WHEN CROSSHAIR SAID “forget the hound, Omega.”, it lowkey felt like he was talking about himself. He was telling her to forget him, he was a broken animal, with no point in nurturing back to health. She needs to give up on him if she wants to move forward. BUT SHE DIDNT BECAUSE MAMA DIDNT RAISE NO UNLOYAL LOSER. NO. OMEGA IS THE REALEST ONEEEEE.

EMERIE you confuse me. I hate u yet am intrigued by u. Looking forward to her character development ahhhh.

HUNTER MY POOKIE BEAR BACK TO HIM BC that man was doing FLIPS chopping off the eldritch horror vines. They snatched his brother and he said “hell naw hoe let go of my BRO” and just. Went to town. Me when Hunter exists 🎉🎉🎉🎉

OH OU OH IHHIWHAIANQO ALSO THE MYSTERY GUY IN THE GREEN TACTICAL ARMOR?? IS THE ONE DOING THE “TORTURE” OR WHATEVER TO CROSSHAIR AND THAT GROUP OF CLONES??? If that’s really tech I’m gonna scream. You’re telling me he’s torturing his own brother. Tech would never even THINK about doing shit like that the man just wants to read nerdy newspapers. Desecration of the nerd lifestyle. OK I REALLY HOPE ITS HIM. LIKE I REALLY DO. OOO PLEASE I WILL CRY. WHY ELSE WOULD THEY SHOW THIS MYSTERY CLONE. NO NEED. IT HAS TO BE BROWN EYES (delusion).

OK I AM SO TIRED MY HEAD HURTS MY LIFE IS CHANGING Jesse we need to cook (I need to make tbb art) BUT I AM GOING TO BED FIRST

[strugglingatart]

So I posted this and people actually did care (exactly 2 but hey! that's enough for me! So here are my ideas of how I would/how I think they will stage the show, let's flaunt my scenic design degree baby!. Now a few caviats before I start:

I have only ever worked with scripted content before, of course I only did things I think will be possible BUT I'm not 100% on all logistics of this type of content.

These are all very rough sketches, I couldand still might do more acurate/detailed models and drawings and floor plans but wanted to at least post these/talk about them also I have so few correct measurments I cry

I am just a fan and also haven't been to the Madison Square Garden so I'm going off just the info and pics I could find on the internet and some assumptions both irl and in game

ok so obvi we will use the HELL out of the screens the venue has for close ups and more images in general

1) This is what I think they'll actually do: just a round table in the center with as many camera angles as possible so everyone sees everything and probably the same seating arangment, maybe some projections but those are harder with arena seating bc it could easily block ppls views

2) This is what I would do actually do personally: make the battle map and the minis on a larger scale (but not super huge) each intrepid heroe gets their own podium decorated to fit their character, Brennan obvi gets a podium as well but his is just NYC themed like an extention of the DM screen art

3) A bonus one: now, this will not happen because logistics and budget wise it would be a nightmare, but it would be SO COOL so I'm putting it here: so the whole "stage area" becomes the battle map, statues, like half a person sized, of the PCs that each intrepid heroe actually moves around(and they'd be rolling/having their character sheets on tablets so they're free to move) and Brenan has a slew of stage hands to move all his characters and all so it'd feel way more theatrical and you could use lighting to enphasize spells and it'd be so cool there is no drawing for this bc it's not realistic and in order for it to work as a drawing I'd need to know what the actual battle map IS bc it becomes the scenery and we don't know that

Shoutout to @queerpiratebrainrot and @blueberryblogger for saying they cared I actually had fun coming up with these and also with having to remeber they don't work from scripts was an interesting aspect that didn't make a diffrence on the finished ideas as much but did completely change my whole process

[atom-writings]

Hi if its ok to ask for a hc with the hetalia guys

What if they have a s/o whos a fashion student/designer who dose elegant, modern and femenine looks and also likes sketching to stress relif . Hope its not confusing ^^' and love the hc and stories you make with the hetalia characters

Whenever reading luds its fun

(Allies + Italy X Reader) Fashionista, artistic S/O!

(Feminine) Headcanons ~ A/N didnt do germany n japan bcs they would be like ok 👍love u. Do ur thing and thats it jskhkjj. req that seperately ig

Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!

Thank god you’re around because otherwise, Alfred would walk outside in neon shorts, a novelty t-shirt, and sandals with socks. Luckily he has deep pockets, so the two of you can go on shopping sprees together all the time. He’ll wear whatever you tell him to, just make sure he doesn’t buy another pair of pizza pants.

He does love how feminine you are though. As much as he hates to admit it, he internalized a lot of 50s ideals. It’s always been his fantasy to have a ladylike wife, someone who can smooth his rough edges, someone graceful and caring. Once he realised you exemplify those traits, he had to have you.

Your hobbies are the exact opposite of his, but he’s always happy to listen and support your interests. Any art you do, regardless of how much you like it, is ending up framed on the wall, too.

Arthur cares quite a lot about fashion, too! Although his tastes are a bit vintage and very conservative. He’d be very interested in your studies, every time you get home, he’ll ask you a million and one questions about the newest developments. And if you make your own clothes, he’ll pull some strings to get you your own studio. After all, what kind of idiot wouldn’t support the future head of the fashion industry?

He loves how elegant you are, too. He’s always been attracted to ultra-femininity, so your indulgences in that part of yourself always excite him. It’s nearly impossible for him to keep his hands off you when you wear those cute dresses…

He’s also always had a thing for femme fatales, but you didn’t hear it from me…

Oh, mon Dieu! You’re the perfect partner for Francis! He’s absolutely over the moon about having an artistic S/O! He wants to see all of your work, everything you’re studying, and everything you want to make! All your thoughts, your ideas, your aspirations, he wants to know all of it. There’s nothing better for creativity than in-depth discussions, right?

One annoying thing though, is just that… he really loves your work. So he is constantly requesting that you make more. It’s very motivating when you’re going through art block, but… it’s not like you can design all of his clothes! Of course, since he’s also very skilled in that area, he’s very willing to help you whenever possible though. You need fabric? Your machine broke? Just need a second pair of eyes? He’s there. (And his advice is usually pretty good!)

Definitely gonna take you on a lot of dates to art museums and the like.

Well, Yao has never been that big into fashion… but nowadays his people are really getting into it. Now that he has you, you can make sure no one calls him lame and outdated! (And then he gets to spoil you with clothes you love along the way. Win-win!) With your guidance, everyone will finally envy him and his beautiful wife again. Wait- Sorry, he constantly forgets you two aren’t married yet.

He’d love to work side by side with you. He has very different artistic pursuits, but spending that kind of time together is always nice. Both of you lost in your own little worlds with the only words being exchanged being occasional compliments. He’s really latched onto your own ways to relieve stress…

Also, because of how graceful and elegant you are, he’s like… obsessed with you. He thinks of you as some kind of goddess, and he’s always trying to please you to make up for how lucky he feels.

Oh, how cute! He absolutely adores your work! While you’re busy designing and sewing, he loves bringing you little snacks and drinks while you're busy- he doesn’t wanna interrupt, really… he just can’t resist getting a little peak at whatever you’re working on. Whatever it is, he’s proud of you!

Since you like sketching to relax, he often takes you out to beautiful places. Whenever you’re stressed, or upset, or scared, he’s throwing you over his shoulder with your sketchbook and bringing you to a flower field. Maybe he’ll even start drawing himself! Although, you’re basically the only thing that inspires him.

Although he isn’t usually very attracted to ultra femininity, there’s something so pure about you that constantly makes him fall more and more in love. You’re like his sister, but not unstable and homicidal. And not his sister.

A fashion student? Well, you’ve come to the best! Not him, exactly, he dresses like someone you’d see on r/peopleofwalmart, but his country at least. He could probably even get government loans for you to buy as much fabric as you need. And if you need a model, he’s been told he’s very average.

He would be able to help with your sketching, though. His classical training isn’t usually something that can be easily passed on, but he’s very willing to sit down and teach you anything you want. If you’re not as serious though, he respects that. Leaves more opportunity for him to be the one sketching you.

Your femininity is what drew him to you in the first place. He’s never been able to resist pretty people, and seeing how you carried yourself… and what you wore… it’s a wonder you two are dating now considering his accidentally creepy introduction.

[quillsareswords]

omg for #QFWW with a vampire reader bc spooky season never ends, like a date gone wrong or something like that pls

A/N: I really know I've found my people when half of these were for my supernatural reader-characters. More vampire reader in my That Which Bleeds collection! WARNINGS: mentions of blood but no descriptions of consumption, mentions of food, language

MASTER LIST in BIO

   “For the record, this was not originally how I intended the night to end.”

   He glances down at the massive bloodstain on the front of his once crisp green button down for emphasis. “No? Were you aiming to have this stain a little higher up? My collar, perhaps?”

   You glare at him dejectedly. “Not funny.”

   He’s smiling anyway. He’s sitting on the curb outside of some swanky restaurant, with this huge dark blotch on his shirt, and he’s smiling at you like you’re finer than every piece of art in the gallery you took him to earlier in the afternoon.

   You bury your face in your hands. “I’m sorry.”

   "What ever for?" he chuckles.

   You glare again. "You're joking, right?"

   Against the cold night air, the warmth of his arm wrapping around your shoulders feels more like a space heater kicking on next to you. “You don’t have to apologize,” he chuckles. “It was a good day.”

   Well, it had been. You'd spent most of the day flitting around the apartment, finding things to keep you busy while you waited for him to finish with his classes. You'd gotten ready together, and he went down and started the car before sunset so it would be warm for you.

   It was all downhill from there. When you finally got to the gallery venue, there was nowhere to park and the valet was nowhere to be seen. There was no choice but to park elsewhere and walk three blocks in your slightly uncomfortable fancy clothes. He'd insisted it was nice to be able to stretch his legs after being stuck in his home office all day, but you know he's still sore from his showdown with Riddler's biggest, baddest goon last week.

   Inside, none of the trays walking around were vegetarian friendly. It was all meat, or very obviously coss-contaminated. On top of that, none of the refreshments were to either of your liking. So, two hours of meandering around a winding exposition with nothing to eat and no drink—because why on earth would they offer water?

   When you finally finished, with a new piece under Damian's arm (a delightful reimagining of a lesser-known Van Gogh, apparently), it was raining. You'd checked the forecast every hour, on the hour all day and there hadn't been a cloud in sight until tomorrow night. So, just this once, you hadn't brought your umbrella. 

   Luckily, the artist he'd purchased from was more than happy to hold it for you until one of you could come back and safely pick it up. And neither of you wanted to walk in the rain, so you called over a cab and left the car to sit in a business lot for awhile longer.

   Finally, you'd thought things were looking up.

   And then the restaurant couldn't find your reservation. The reservation you made weeks ago, because The Stranger is the only nice restaurant in all of Gotham that caters to both vegetarians and vampires.

   Fortunately, they happened to have an open table, and because you had the foresight to bring along some proof of reservation (ensuring the entire mess was their fault), drinks were free.

   Finally, all was well. Damian loved his mushroom risotto, you were thrilled with your AB+ blend, and it really looked like you'd be able to pull this off.

   The whole night was your doing. He'd been so busy with his degree and his heroism and his internship, and you'd been finding a delicate balance between your own school work and playing mediator between any decent vampires in the city and privy law enforcement, while also making yourself a threat against any indecent vampires that didn't care for humanity anymore. You hadn't been able to do much of anything together, especially when he slept for six or so hours most nights and you didn't.

   You sat with him while he ate breakfast. You'd sit in his office while you both worked. He'd sit in the living room to work while you chipped away at hobbies or watched something. You'd sit closeby while he painted. You'd lie in bed and read while he slept, because he always sleeps better if you're around. If you're lucky, you may even doze off while you're there. You found ways to spend time together whenever you could, but it wasn't quite the same as getting out and going somewhere.

   Valentine's Day was the best excuse to do so. Two whole days cleared on both schedules. One night to stay out as late as he could bare. You'll make breakfast for him tomorrow, and whenever he decides to get up, you'll talk him into watching some ridiculous romance movie he'll roll his eyes at but end up teary-eyed by the end of.

   You can practically taste victory, despite all the mishaps leading up to dinner. The waiter is bringing over your second glass. Damian's almost finished. You're almost done with the artichoke dip he didn't like as much.

   And then, in a wretched turn of events that you swear only belong in shitty television dramas, the waiter trips. Over thin air or his shoelaces or your hopes and dreams, it doesn't matter. He falters, squeals, and the glass he's carrying goes flying like a targeted drone strike.

   Thinned red blood splatters against the wall behind your table and then—all over the front of Damian's shirt.

   You could have burst into tears right then and there. Instead, you waited patiently for Damian to assure the sputtering waiter that it was fine, he wasn't angry, he wouldn't have the poor kid fired. Then, you took Damian to the family bathroom and tried your best to rinse out as much of the blood as you could in the sink. 

   "A good night?" you ask incredulously. "Where have you been all night?"

   He raises one hand, the one not touching you, in mock-defense. "I didn't say it went perfectly, my love. Could things have gone a little smoother? Of course. But they didn't ruin the evening."

   You finally pull your face from your hands. "Yeah, they kind of did. Case in point," you grumble, gesturing to his shirt.

   "I don't care about the shirt," he tells you seriously. "I have dozens of them. I'll buy another one if I miss it. Look at me." His hand skims up the round of your back to the base of your neck to get you attention. It's pointless, because you never turn down an opportunity to look upon him. "I don't care about the shirt. Or the shoes."

   "What happened to your shoes?" you cry suddenly.

   He laughs tiredly and shakes his head. "Nothing important. Will you let me finish?"

   You bite down on your lip as your hand absently passes over your mouth, as if you're subconsciously trying to keep yourself quiet.

   "I was going to say, that I don't care about all these little things that happened." He rubs his thumb across the cool skin of your neck, mere inches away from a scar that's never quite going to heal. "All I wanted to do tonight was spend time with you. I didn't care what we did. I did enjoy the gallery, and dinner, and I do appreciate all the time and effort you put into planning all this: but you really didn't have to. I would have been perfectly content to sit at home and stare at you all night. I wanted to be with you tonight, and you gave me that. Everything else was secondary."

   The way he looks at you now almost brings tears to your eyes. He looks at you like you're the prettiest thing on Earth. Like you're the only thing worth looking at. Like he really would have been happy to do nothing but look at you until the world ended.

   "I just wanted it to be perfect," you tell him honestly, voice as wilted at you feel. "We don't get the chance to do this very often, so I wanted it to be special." You laugh wetly despite yourself. You're quick to wipe away one rogue tear. "Guess I should have known better. We do live in Gotham, afterall."

   "That's true," he chuckles. "On the bright side, it still wasn't as terrible as our New Year's dinner last year."

   You laugh just thinking about it, like you always do. He knows you always laugh about it. It's a trick he keeps tucked in his back pocket for just these occasions. "That was pretty awful," you agree. "Your brother tumbling through the window covered in blood wasn't exactly how I thought that night would end, either."

   He gently pulls you closer to him. Tucks you into his side while you wait for a cab to take you back to the car. "Well, to be fair, I expect most nights to end with at least a little blood. I am in love with a vampire, afterall."

   You rest your head on his shoulder and watch slow traffic pass. "I love you, too," you hum. "Even though you are the one who spilled my drink last night, and now you're trying to blame me."

   He rolls his eyes."I am not–"

   "Oh you so are–"

[dieanywhereelseart]

I’ve been drawing with dip pens lately so I did a nib study using my ghost trick redesigns.

for anyone that’s interested here’s some notes on the nibs under the cut.

Leonardt 33 - Easily the one of the most flexible pen nibs I have. Technically this is designed for calligraphy, specifically spencerian, so the sideways movement isn’t great and there’s little control when doing hatching. Really dramatic swoops with high pressure that aren’t entirely appropriate for character portraits but I kinda dig what it did to Sissel’s hair. Will probably use it for special effects like fire and smoke and stuff.

Leondardt 33 - This one is actually intended for drawing so naturally it has a fairly consistent line weight with a low flex. The hatching marks are kinda scratchy but not in a bad way. Would probably work really well for continuous contour and styles of lineart that are more sketchy, loose, and dynamic than my normal character art style. Would prob use for larger pieces or figures closer to the camera cause the line weight is generally a bit too thick for the usual size I work with.

Tachikawa G - This is a nib made for drawing manga specifically and it’s really easy to use for drawing. Some of the calligraphy nibs really take some thought and careful motor control to look good but this one was forgiving. I see myself using this a lot for really casual art. It was kinda hard to do hatching or filling with this one tho, which was kinda surprising. Very gentle line variance, makes really clear shapes. You can see in the other characters than too high flexibility can make it hard for the brain to turn lines into form so this really mellows it out. Prob best to use this nib to block out the lineart then hatch/fill/detail with others.

Hunt 102 - this is a speedball job made for mapping and oh my god do I love this nib. It’s just so 👌👌👌 on the details??? the line variance perfectly matches the brushes I use on photoshop and it’s just. mwah. it holds onto literally so much ink despite being so tiny. interestingly hatching is unstable but two or three lines together seem to be just fine. Kinda sad that jowd’s hair is a little hard to focus on cause of the variance but with a little practice I can prob find ways around that cause I already know I’m gonna love using this nib for heads and faces. Filling is a bit patchy but otherwise I think this is gonna be my go-to detail nib. (also no jowd isn’t in overalls that’s supposed to be an art apron but with only like the top portion showing it’s hard to tell.)

Hunt 108 - ok this is Supposed to be a drawing nib as well as a calligraphy nib and it does mimic brush strokes but I’m pretty heavy handed so it’s hard Not to make those super thick lines. Not bad with details and has enough control to make thickening up the outline super easy, but really easy to mess up. This nib did Cabanela dirty by flexing a bit too much when I was doing his mouth so I had to correct it with a white pen. Spreads the ink too thin in areas for solid filling. I can see this working really well with mixed media, like with watercolor, and once I get some more colored ink I’ll use it for coloring.

Hunt 100 - idiot stupid rat bastard of a pen nib. ok the art looks fine right? can’t be that bad, right? it took me so long to make that because the ink just. wouldn’t come out. so this nib is another mapping nib and it’s super delicate so it breaks really easily. I broke my first one bc I’m heavy handed, so I ordered another like ‘ok I’ll be more careful with this one’. it broke again. I don’t even know how. Ideally I’d use it for small spaces or reeeally fine details but I can’t even get it to work long enough to try. speedball can meet me in the pits.

Hunt 512 - A calligraphy nib that’s actually really easygoing to draw with. There’s not much line variance, so the hairlines have a lot of control. Makes for really good hatching. Also does really great long, thin lines. Sideways movement is kinda meh but it does the job. Definitely the cleanest looking of all them, tho the lack of variance makes it a bit boring to look at. Gonna use this one for shading and textures or for drawing on really rough paper.

Hunt 99 - like the first nib this one is really dramatic, and it’s supposed to be a calligraphy nib, but it has a lot more weight control than the hunt 108. Also the fine lines are easier to control. A lot of ink comes out so it might not be great on paper with risk of bleeding, and it takes a while to dry compared to others, but it would be good for filling since it can cover a large opaque space while having good control over the shape and points. Could also use for different warping/texture techniques.

Other notes:

I used smooth illustration Bristol for the paper, since ink looks more vibrant and swooshy on it and also some of these nibs can Only be used on smooth paper.

Also used terracotta India ink, which is kinda on the thick end but still looks good. matches with the colored lineart in Ghost Trick lol

got all of my pen nibs from Paper & Ink Arts cause u can order a nib for like less than a dollar fifty each. You can also get paper, nib holders, and ink for a good price too.

if u wanna start with dip pens PLEASE prepare your nibs before drawing. stick them in a potato for like 10 minutes. please trust me on this you will have a bad time otherwise.

ok thanks for reading through my Very Indulgent experiment.