#mixed media: prop

[mortemilla]

For Morphologist!

[msnogood]

The Making of Strange Flower

Somehow I never showed my process of strange flower's creation. Below are the materials and steps.

Materials I used:

Yellow wool (mine was yellow yarn that I carded myself with a carding brush / pet brush)

Cheaper white core wool (mine was recycled fluffs from poly batting of my pandemic-era grocery delivery packing liners)

Glass pins for eyes

Air dry clay (mine was green paper clay and wood pulp clay but you can color air dry clay with some acrylic paint)

Wood glue (for water resistance), or PVA glue (if you don’t care for water resistence)

A good stick. I got mine from an old messed up artificial flower.

Felting needles

Felting base foam (I used recycled polyurethane packing foam blocks from my online orders)

To make a strange flower:

Start by felting the base of your flower’s face. You can speed up this process by wet-felting with soapy water mid way. It should end up looking like a concave cookie.

Then start to layer some yellow wool on top of your core wool cookie. Cover all the whites.

Then start to add details like cheeks, chin, and lips. You can test-place your flower’s eyes to better figure out the placement of your flower’s cheeks.

Then cut your glass pins short, bend the pin slightly downward (so it’s long enough to hold its position but won’t stick out the back of your flower’s head), and insert the beady eyes.

Start molding the desired flower petal shapes of your choice. I wanted mine to be plump. So I made it plump. Let it dry a bit. Then I added a water-down layer of wood glue and smooth out my clay petal. Poke a hole at the center of the petal about the size of the artificial stem.

Tip: If you’re also using an artificial flower stem, try to mold the base of your flower petal to fit into the stem head’s shape. Mine was a bit flat and ended up having a big gap and I had to use more glue to fill the void and it took ages to dry. Save any artificial petals you can salvage. Incorporate the ones that work with your strange flower. The rest can be materials for another project someday.

Once completely dry, pin your petals onto your artificial flower stem with some wood glue or PVA glue at its base.

Once the clay petal is dried and secured on the artificial flower stem, carefully poke your flower head on top.

And a strange flower is born! 🌷

[artoflittlemisssquiggles]

CAFE MARSHMILLE ☕ DTIYS CHALLENGE

*screams from the mountains* FINALLY! It is done!!!

A DTIYS Challenge that took this squiggle meister way too long to complete cause I just had to be EXTRA and be like “Oh why don’t I turn this into a cool mixed media project that has both 2D and 3D in the artwork. I’ve been wanting to do that for sooo long so why not try it with this? Wouldn’t that be swell?”

So after a hot couple of weeks, here it is. The fruit of my labour. I don’t actually think anyone will really notice (or…even care) that this is supposed to be a digital mixed media. But hey, at least I finished it! So HUZZAH for me!

Like I said, my main objective for this piece was to create an illustration that combined my digital art skills with my 3D modeling skills where the end result would feature an art with 2D and 3D elements as well as a stylized 3D prop project.  Something I can also share over on my 3D art blog.

This meant that I had to make my 3D models match the style of my drawing of Marshmilla (the featured character) which, for those of you who have seen some of 3D work, is a style that I really love. I’ve been wanting to marry my 2D with my 3D skills for a long while and this is my first step towards that personal goal.

In case you couldn’t tell, all the props in this piece are 3D models while I drew the character. Speaking of which, the character in question is named Marshmilla.

Marshmilla and her wonderful Cafe Marshmille belong to the very talented Sonia Stegemann. I’ve been following her work a lot lately over on her Instagram page. She actually held an official DTIYS challenge before with the same character but I didn’t get a chance to do that one. This design of Cafe Marshmilla is actually from her personal redraw challenge and I loved the design so much (along with the cafe props) that I asked Sonia if I could draw this version of Marshmilla in my style and she gave me the ok.

Didn’t tell her I was also going to 3D model her cafe prop designs though XD So, for what it’s worth, I hope she likes my rendition of her designs. As always with these challenges, I hope I did the original justice and you folks like my take on it.

Enjoy ya’ll!

~LittleMissSquiggles (2024)

[post-hummus]

While I haven't posted much about it here, I'm part of a lil' theatre prop & puppetry studio in Houston🎭 and this is what we've been up to since the holidays:

12 rotating animal masks for “The Big Swim���, an upcoming Lunar New Year show in collaboration with Houston Grand Opera & Asia Society Texas Center! 🧧

Design by Afsaneh Aayani

Built by Corey Nance, Sasha Blaschka (that's me!), and Regine Gwyneth Templonuevo

It was really an honor to build such fun designs and I'm grateful to work alongside my amazing studio mates. We've invested many long, dedicated hours to this project, and I’m simply amazed at how much progress we’ve made working as a team.

It can be demanding work, but that deep-rooted sense of fulfillment & gratification always keeps us looking forward to the next project! 🙌

(I'll be posting behind-the-scenes photos over on my insta stories)

[therealraeweber]

Hey Tumblr! It's been a hot minute, but I wanted to hop on today and share a project I just finished for my digital media class!

Keep reading to see my process of making this dagger!

Our assignment was super open ended, with the prompt just being "Make a project that involves Blender in some way", so I thought doing something mixed media would be a lot of fun. I'm on a mission this semester to start making art for classes that I WANT TO MAKE, and not just tailor to what I think will get me a good grade and what my profs would like. Honestly, could make a whole post about that mission as it is actually more challenging than I had anticipated, but I digress.

For my dagger, I started by making a quick sketch in Procreate to get an idea of what I wanted my model to look like. I got some inspo off of Pinterest, but tired to make the design my own, and something I could feasibly make.

Since I was making this project for a digital media class, and the assignment was supposed to revolve around using Blender, I made a base 3D model for the dagger, which I would then send off to get printed.

I originally tried to model the vines and leaves in Blender, but I had a really hard time with it, since I am still re-learning how to use Blender (haven't used it since high school). So I decided to make it a mixed media project, since the prof said this assignment was very open ended. Plus, doing mixed media would give me a chance to try out foam clay, which I've been wanting to experiment with for a while.

I then sent my 3D model off to my good friend David, who 3D printed it for me. He was even kind enough to send me a time lapse of it printing!

After printing, David also assembled the base for me, but I put glue in all the seams, followed by filler once that dried, and sanded the whole thing down. It definitely could have used more sanding since you can still see print lines in some places, but I was on a strict time crunch to get this assignment in on time.

Then I went in with my foam clay and started adding the leaves and vines on the handle, as well as the leaf details on the cross-guard. I had never used foam clay before (I know... what kind of cosplayer am I?), but I really enjoyed working with it. I had a bit of a hard time getting it to stick to the plastic, but I found that wetting it and then letting it get a bit tacky really helped with that.

The foam clay I bought was from Michaels, and was technically labeled "Modelling Foam", so I have no idea how it compares to the nice foam clay that most cosplayers use. I would have ordered that, but I decided to do the modelling by hand rather last minute, so I needed to buy what was available in store. Overall I enjoyed working with it, but I would still be interested to try the real stuff some time (assuming it's actually different from this).

After letting the foam clay dry overnight, I started painting it. I primed everything with a silver spray primer, then went over just the blade, pommel, and cross-guard with a more metallic silver spray paint. Thankfully, I had enough paint and primer left over from the two angel blades I made in the summer, so I didn't need to buy more paint for this project. I then painted the handle by hand, which was one of the most tedious paint processes I've ever done, but I'm quite happy with the results.

Last up was some clear coat, as I didn't want to risk any of the paint chipping off. I'm also hoping the clear coat will help seal the foam a bit, as I have no idea how foam clay holds up when used on props. I let the sealant dry overnight last night and this morning it was done! And today I took some pictures of it outside to submit to my prof for grading, and to use during our class critique tonight. Considering I was rushing these last steps after 3D printing, it is a miracle I got it done by the deadline. I'm quite happy with how it turned out!!!

Now I'm just hoping that crit goes well tonight! We'll see if my prof thinks this is too much mixed media for a digital media class...

Anyways, hope you enjoyed seeing my process! I know I haven't posted in ages... I have done and made so many cool things this past month, but I've been too stressed and busy to make posts about them. Hopefully I'll have more time to share stuff with you guys soon!

[kordeliiius]

A bigger kid with an even bigger knife

base colors only ¯\_( ツ )_/¯

[formulawolff]

"keep 'em comin'" - m.v.

pairing: girl best friend!reader x max verstappen

word count: 2.3k

warnings: alcohol consumption, light marijuana usage, cussing, max munching on some cooter! (that will come later in the fic), enemies to friends to lovers, typical men behavior (being creepy in a bar), mentions of physical threats, kelly slander, THINGS ARE MESSY BETWEEN KELLY AND MAX (so if y'all don't like light infidelity/gray areas then don't read) yadayadayada (y'all already know the vibes)

a/n: hellllloooo! <3 this is my first time writing for max so if this isn't quite like him, i apologize in advance. this fic is based off of a request and i had to write about it since i've been feral for max (he finally took off that damned cap!) this may end up as a two or three part series. we'll see, we'll see!

⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺ ‧ ⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . * ꙳ ✦ ⊹⨯ . ⁺ ✦ ⊹ ꙳ ⁺

"i see the decrepit hag decided to let you out of her clutches tonight. congratulations for being able to be out and about in public without her breathing down your neck!"

the figure standing to your left scoffs, muttering a few incoherent words under his breath. he slides into the booth, propping his chin up with a hand. the other finds the glistening glass, a bead of condensation rolling down, pooling onto the rigid table.

"about that."

"what about it?" you arch a brow, lips connecting with the rim of your own drink, "max, did something happen before you left?"

he shrugs, brows pinching together as he sips on his mixed drink, a decadent yet smooth concoction of his favorite liquors blended together, "it's nothing serious."

"max," setting your glass down, you lean forward ever so slightly, his name louder than normal over the overwhelming mixture of voices and volume, "what. happened."

"oh you know," he waves a hand, careful not to meet your piercing gaze, "she's upset that i was going out to see you. that's all."

the moment max mentioned her, you knew exactly who she was.

she was kelly piquet. max verstappen's beloved wag. the woman who scooped him up the moment that clock struck midnight on his eighteenth birthday.

the woman you loathed more than anyone in the world.

but you wouldn't tell max that.

after all, you couldn't. the pair had been dating for quite some time. and although max wouldn't say it outright, you were well aware that she was not going anywhere anytime soon.

no matter how much the two fought. no matter how much she wanted to make your relationship with max as strained as possible.

your friendship with max had a rocky start. tumultuous, even. the two of you met when you were both seventeen, as your parents were mutual friends. since max was involved in racing, and you aimed to pursue professional photography, max's father suggested that the two of you get to know one another.

of course, at that time, the last thing teenage max wanted was some nerdy girl following him around. especially when there were other teenage boys involved. cool teenage boys who enjoyed to fuck around with fast machinery.

he teased you relentlessly, tormenting you whenever he could. he ridiculed your photographic abilities, scorning the prints or slideshows you provided. often times, he stated that your pictures were, "absolute shit" and your clip compilations "were not going to get you anywhere in formula one."

of course, you matched his energy. after all, you weren't going to take anyone's shit. you knew you had to advocate for yourself. you weren't going to make it in the industry if you weren't assertive.

eventually, your snapshots landed you a job at red bull. well, max did have a part to play in that.

after a couple of years, the dutch driver apologized for the way he treated you at the time, requesting a truce. the truce would consist of you sticking around as his personal media manager.

in turn, he would promote your work to the world of formula one and assist you in your way up the ladder in any way he could. he would land your sponsorships. he would chip in some cash here and there to get you more advanced software or equipment.

the only stipulation was that you had to follow him.

everywhere and anywhere he went. every event. every interview. every grand prix.

no. matter. what.

of course, with the stakes involved, you knew it was too good of a deal to refuse. with max's rise to prominence in formula one, you knew it was now or never.

so, you accepted his offer.

oh jos verstappen, what a bastard you were.

cause now, here you were in vegas, sitting across from the man you loved. well, the man you were in love with.

hopelessly and utterly in love with.

"that isn't unusual for her," you scoff, hands reaching for your purse, "i do have something that could lighten the mood!"

"and that is?" max's gaze follows your hand, making note of the delicately wrapped joint between your fingers.

"my friend mary jane!"

"you of all people know i shouldn't be smoking," the dutch driver shakes his head, yet proceeds to scoot out of the booth anyway, "i'll still come out there with you. i won't be taking any hits though."

"yeah, yeah," you wave a hand, "that's what they all say."

as you slip out of the booth, you feel max's hand connect with your lower back, almost guiding you through the throng of locals. a few of them chirp greetings to max, others chattering, creating a buzz within the air.

well, there went any sort of anonymity.

so much for keeping a low profile for the weekend.

yet, when in vegas, that was almost impossible to maintain. especially when you were a man of max's caliber.

the two of you manage to slip out, just before fans started asking for autographs. of course, max obliged to a few, signing a cap here and an arm there.

even though it was quickly approaching december, the air was mild, dipping in the low fifties. max hovers to your right, shuddering as a breeze rolls through. you curse as it quenches your flame, motioning for max to stand closer.

"can you shield me for a moment, pretty boy?"

"pretty boy?"

from the way the words tumbled from his mouth, max seemingly was not to keen to the idea of being referred to as pretty boy. yet, he inches even closer to you, providing a barrier as the lighter comes to life, igniting your delicate pre-roll.

"what else should i call you?" shrugging, you exhale, the smoke billowing into the night, "or do you prefer world champion?"

"how much did you have to drink before i got here?" the dutch driver cocks his head, his stare almost picking you apart.

"enough," you respond, lips curling into a devious grin, "don't act like you didn't like that."

"i did," he counters, "that's the issue here."

"and why is that an issue?"

"because we used to fucking despise one another. we used to tear one another apart. and now here i am, going out for drinks with you when i shouldn't be. here i am, looking forward to your texts or your snaps when i know i should be thinking about someone else.

fuck, even when i'm with her, my mind wanders to you. we're together all of the fucking time yet i crave you. i miss you when we're apart. what are you doing to me?"

before your mind can even formulate a coherent response, an individual saunters up to the two of you, drinks in hand.

it's an older man, approximately in his early or mid fifties. he's balding, as a few of the greasy hairs were poorly combed over. he was well dressed, but poorly groomed, as there was quite the scruff plaguing his feautures.

"good evening," his words are directed towards you, yet you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes were fixated on your joint, "i was wondering if the pretty lady could exchange a hit or two for a-"

"she's not accepting shit from you," max's voice is low, the driver taking another half step toward you, almost to shield you even further.

"c'mon man," the man drawls, the words slurred, "i wasn't fucking speakin' to ya. i was talkin' to her."

"and i'm talking to you," max's jaw clenches, "get the fuck out of here."

"and you are?" the man arches a brow, "surely not her boyfriend."

"actually i am," the words are forced through gritted teeth, the driver's fists clenched to his sides, "i'm her fiancé. i suggest you leave before i-"

"got it," the man exhales, rolling his eyes, "it was worth a shot. what the fuck ever man."

as he turns to head back towards the bar, you feel fingers find yours, intertwining together. max squeezes your hand gently, "are you okay?"

"fiancé?" relief ripples as you notice his demeanor crumble, "what was that all about? were you manifesting something or-"

"come on," max tugs at your hand, "let's go to another place. get a few more drinks. keep 'em comin'. keep the alcohol flowin', you know?"

"max," clicking your tongue, you frown as your realize your joint was burnt out, "what is going on between you and kelly?"

"i don't want to talk about her right now," the driver won't even look at you, keeping his focus on the glow and ambiance of the city, "we can talk about anything else but her. please. i don't even want to think about her right now. shouldn't you be relieved? why aren't you relieved?"

"because you look stressed the fuck out!" you retort, "and it stresses me out because i love you and i can't handle seeing you all bummed about some hag who is only using you!"

max freezes, your hand flying up to your mouth. heat floods your cheeks, heart thudding against your rib-cage as you realize what just came pouring from your mouth.

"did you just tell me that you love me?"

his voice is soft. dangerously low. merely a whisper, barely audible over the bustling noise of vegas.

tears well up, shame setting your body ablaze as you nod, biting your lower lip, "y-yeah. and i know i shouldn't-"

"shut the fuck up," hands meet with your cheeks, bringing you in close, "just shut the fuck up and come here."

in that moment, max's mouth finds yours. the kiss is tender, brimmed with nothing but passion, breathing life back into your lungs. it was grounding yet exhilarating, waves of euphoria crashing over.

he pulls away, forehead brushing against yours, "why haven't i done this sooner?"

"because kelly-"

"i don't give a fuck about kelly right now."

"give a fuck about me then," you murmur against his mouth, relishing the way his hands explore, roaming along your back, trailing down to your ass, "you think we should take this somewhere more private? before someone snaps a photo of max verstappen making out with his media manager?"

"that's a good idea," he nods, "i'll arrange an uber."

although it was merely minutes in the time it took between getting into the uber and making it to your hotel room, it felt like an eternity. yet, with the way max's hand gripped your thigh the entire drive, you didn't complain. the other hand held onto yours, pressing gentle kisses to your knuckles.

if only this was your everyday life.

if only things were different.

if only he fell in love with you first.

once the two of you were in the elevator, he maintained his composure, as there were other people stepping in and out. there was even a little boy, in awe that his favorite driver was staying in the same hotel as him. max was kind enough to gift him one of his beaded bracelets, a small memento from a win during the 2022 season.

if only that child knew what his favorite driver was really up to.

once that light on your keypad flashed green, his mouth was on yours, tongue gliding along your lower lip, practically begging for access. his hands were all over, tugging on your clothes, desperate to see what was underneath.

"fuck," there's a rumble in his chest as he lays on you on the bed, pinning you to the mattress.

"what?" you can't help but wriggle a little, slightly flustered by the intensity of his gaze.

"you have no idea how much i've thought about this," a dusty rose hue tinges his cheeks, "i-i almost don't know what to do now. i've thought about it so frequently that i had it down to every little detail. and now i have you here, right where i want you but i feel like i'm going to fuck this up and-"

"max," tender fingers sweep locks of hair from his forehead, "do what you feel is right."

"i just want to show you how much i love you. i need you to know how loved you are."

"i think i have an idea," the tip of your nose brushes against his, "is there anything i can do to help?"

"will you let me taste you?"

instinctively, your hips buck forward, legs spreading so that he can have access. you can feel his cock stiffen in his pants, pressing against your inner thigh, aching for some sort of relief.

"yes," you nod, "you can taste me."

"f-fuck," his jaw nearly goes slack as you guide his hand through the waistband of your panties, the pad of his index finger circling your clit, "you're this wet for me? already? my poor baby. all soaked and desperate for me."

"m-max," the way his name falls from your lips is intoxicating, "i need you."

"are you sure this is okay?" he pauses, eyes meeting with yours, "if at any moment you need me to stop, just tell me."

"you are more than okay. i promise."

fingers delicately unbutton your jeans, rolling them down your legs. in the process, you peel off your hoodie and shirt, tossing them to the floor.

just the mere sight of you half-dressed had him coming undone, his inhibitions slipping away by the second. fuck, you were so stunning. someone who deserved to be worshipped and cherished.

far more beautiful than he could have ever imagined.

situating himself between your legs, max's mouth roams, placing wet kisses all over your inner thighs, hips, and abdomen. his tongue flattens against your heated core, savoring the way you squirmed under his touch.

"you need me to taste you baby?" he coos, cocking his head.

"yes," you plead, skin hot to the touch, your clit engorged, folds slick with juices.

"hmmm," he hums, hands grasping your thighs to spread you open further.

"once i get these off of you, you're all mine. and only mine. got that?"

yet, there was one thing that happened to slip max verstappen's mind that night in vegas.

well, one woman.

the woman he referred to as his girlfriend, but the woman he was not in love with.

kelly piquet.

[sturnioz]

shy!matt finds himself struggling when you show off your new outfits.

"what do you think about this one?" you ask, stepping into your bedroom in your new skirt, admittedly a lot longer than your usual style, but with the cold, crisp air settling in, you wanted to be as warm, prepared and cute as possible — choosing a pretty midi skirt with delicate floral patterns that sway gently with your movements.

matt lounges on your bed, his back propped against the headboard, one leg casually crossed over the other, and he's absorbed in his phone, scrolling through his social media feed, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his face.

when he hears your voice, his eyes dart up, and he tilts his head to the side, taking in your look. a soft giggle escapes his lips, breaking the momentary silence.

"you um, look like a librarian or somethin'," he says, and when you respond with an unimpressed look, he fidgets, his smile turning sheepish as he backtracks, "a comfy librarian?"

"yeah, yeah, whatever." you murmur, tugging off your skirt with a huff and tossing it aside. matt chuckles softly, but he respects your privacy, returning his focus to his phone as he settles more comfortably on your bed, waiting for you to try on the next skirt.

the next one is shorter than what you were expecting — but paired with thick tights or even some thigh-highs, you're almost positive that the length of the skirt and the chilly air wouldn't be too much of a problem.

you smooth the black fabric with your hands, flattening out the creases as you gently call out matt's name, eager to hear his thoughts. when he looks up, his phone slips from his fingers, tumbling to the bed as his gaze locks onto your bare thighs. his mouth falls open in stunned surprise, shyness crawling over his features.

your eyebrows knit together at his odd behaviour, waiting for his approval or disapproval, but then you notice it — the unmissable tent in his pants.

"it's good, s'great," matt chokes out, his voice strained as he clears his throat. he rubs his clammy palms on his thighs, desperately averting his gaze to a random spot on the wall as he swallows thickly. "yeah, uh, that one — it's um, yeah.. s'nice."

"nice?" you repeat, a smirk spreading across your face as you glance down at the skirt, playfully tugging at the hem. "don't you think it's a little.. short?"

"short—yeah, s'kinda.. short. a little — yeah," matt stutters, nodding rapidly while blinking as if trying to clear his head. he reaches for your pillow behind him, laying it over his lap, fingers tugging at the pillow cover as though it could hide his embarrassment. "but it — it's pretty, y'know. nice."

you can't help but laugh softly, enjoying the way he fumbles for words, his shyness only making you feel more confident. you take a step closer to the bed, leaning forward slightly.

"pretty, hm? you like it?"

matt's eyes widen, and he shifts beneath the pillow awkwardly, his gaze flickering back to your legs for just a moment before he quickly looks away again. "yeah — yeah, i like it. s'just different, y'know? you... i like it."

you lean in more, lowering your voice to a sultry whisper. "you can look, matt... it's okay."

he stills for a moment, caught off guard. then, with a subtly shift of his hips against the pillow, his eyes slowly drift back to you, cheeks dusted a faint pink that deepens with every passing second.

but he doesn't let his gaze linger for long as he snaps it away, stammering, "yeah, no, m'good. m'soooo good."

"you sure?" you tease, biting down on your plush lip. "because to me it seems like you're having a hard time focussing."

matt lets out a choked groan, his tongue rolling across his cheek as he shakes his head, fully aware of your innuendo and teasing tone. he slips further down on the bed, rolling onto his side to turn away from you, burying his flustered face in the blankets.

"can't believe you're fuckin' doin' this to me.." he mumbles into the fabric, voice muffled but laced with a mix of embarrassment and shyness.

you grin to yourself at the scene, making a mental note to wear the skirt more often — especially if you're going to get a reaction like that.

© STURNIOZ

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Follow You Anywhere 1

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

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

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

Summary: You're online existence threatens to leak into your real life.

Characters: Captain Syverson

Note: I couldn't help myself.

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

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

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

"So... this is what it looks like today?" You aim your camera at the sky outside your window, "sorry, the screen is kinda in the way."

You let out a nervous chuckle and flip the camera to yourself. You make a silly face. You were never overly fond of your image on the screen but the vlogs help. Like a little diary, mostly for yourself. You and your seven followers on Insta.

You bat your lashes and fix the clip in your hair, "oh, I got this free. Yeah, I bought a new hair oil and they threw this in the bag." You let your thoughts run wild from your tongue. You found a journal too daunting, the blank lines leaving you just as empty. This is easier. "Anyway, I shouldn't have spent the money to begin with."

You give another splintered laugh. The one you let out when you're anxious, or scared, or happy, or even mad.  You bite your lip and catch yourself in your digitized reflection. You stop and turn your camera to your bedroom.

"Today, I'm gonna clean this mess. Me and you guys together."

You scour the room with the lens. Your laundry is piled on the floor and you have a stack of books you need to put on the shelf. It isn't the worst it's been but it's getting cluttered.

"But first, we'll have breakfast, can't start the stream on an empty stomach," you chirp and nearly drop the phone, "oops, uh..." You fix your grip and check the number in the corner. You have one viewer; on a good day, it's three, most days, it's just you talking to the void.

You go into the kitchen, just down the short hall from your bedroom, opening into your living room. You go to the counter and prop up the phone so the camera is on you again. You tap your fingers and hum.

"What should we have for breakfast?" You ask. You don't feel as crazy talking to yourself even if there's really no one watching. "Oo, French toast. Gotta use up the eggs."

You go to the fridge and pull out the eggs and the milk. You bring them back to the counter, shuffling around for a bowl, a whisk, and the cinnamon.

You mix up your ingredients and dip the bread, one piece at a time. You put on a skillet and fry up the slices, presenting a stack of three to the camera. You smile and dust some icing sugar over the top.

“Probably shouldn't have all this sugar for breakfast,” you shrug at the camera, “alright, quick break…” 

You put the stream onto the ‘back soon’ page and take your plate to the small foldout table against the wall. You're not a fan of eating on camera. You finish and rinse up before snatching your phone up again.

You return to your bedroom and put the phone on a middle shelf and flip the stream back to live. Still that one viewer…

“Anyway, I'm back,” you wave at the lens.

You hesitate, looking around as you stand straight and spin. Cleaning, right. Before you can set to work, the phone dings.

A message?

You go back to your phone and squint at the chat bubble floating up.

‘Looked delicious too.’

“It was,” you agree with a grin, “thanks.”

‘Don't mean the toast.’

The next message has you blinking. Your nape burns. They can't mean… you clear your throat and giggle.

“Well, let's get started,” you back up and clap your hands, “you know, I've been so carried away with work. This place is a pigsty.”

You sit on the floor and sort through the clothes. You toss them into the basket as you sit in silence. You stop yourself and glance at the phone.

“How about some tunes?” 

You walk on your knees to your bedside and turn on your bluetooth speaker. You go to your phone and find a playlist before pulling the stream back to full screen. As you do, you hear a noise you've never heard before.

‘BourbonBear has tipped.’ Huh? Really?

“Oh, thanks, er, BourbonBear,” you giggle around the name, “how nice. Maybe one day I can afford a proper camera for this, huh?”

You smile and go back to the dirty clothes. You quickly ball up a pair of panties and shove them in the basket. You carry on until they're all untangled.

You move on and tidy your desk, bending underneath to gather up a few loose pens. You make your way around the bedroom, putting away books, fixing the blankets on the bed, and straightening the little figurines on the shelf above the bed.

You grab the stick vacuum and suck up the dirt and proclaim your task done. It took a lot longer than you thought. It's after eleven. The one viewer is still there.

“Whew, okay, I'm gonna get myself washed up and go to the park. Maybe I'll post that later,” you give a thumbs up next to your head as you talk to the phone, “thank you.”

You end the stream and let out a sigh. Your videos aren't much and you doubt they're very interesting but it's like venting for you. Almost like having an invisible friend. You think you will take some pictures of the flowers to share.

🧸

You take your usual path through the park. The walks help you unwind your worries. You try to come after work at least a couple days during the week and both days on the weekend. You find the mindlessness of the routine to be calming.

The deeper you get into the wooded length of the path, you slow to admire the birds in the branches and the critters crawling in the brush. You take out your phone and snap a few photos of a blue jay before it wings away shyly. You smile and flip the cam, smiling as you take a goofy selfie. You can add that to your post.

The path winds ahead and you follow it in the din, listening to the river just down the incline to your left and the tweeting from the sky. You lift your face and inhale the woodsy scent. The sudden crack of a twig startles you and you spin to face the noise. There's no one there. Sometimes you forget other people are free to just walk on through.

You chuckle at yourself and continue on. The path leads out to a suburban street where you like to look at the houses. They're much more spacious and pretty than your grimy brick apartment building.

You come out from the shade of the trees and wander along the avenue. There's a mailbox painted to look like the house it stands before and a little nook for second hand children's books to be borrowed through the neighbourhood. Sometimes you picture yourself living in one of those houses though you don't think it could ever truly be.

As you crane your head, you sense a shadow in your peripheral. You're walking a bit slow. You sidle to the side to get out of the way of the other pedestrian. When no one passes, you look back. No one.

You must be imagining things. You shrug and plod along. You're already thinking of what kind of tea you'll have when you get in.

🧸

You sit down with your mug of ginger citrus tea and set to editing your post. You add a light filter to the photos as you shuffle through them on your laptop. The process is slow as the computer is nearly five years old now and chuffing on its 4GB drive. You get to the selfie you snapped, a stop.

You lean in to get a better glimpse of the background. It's fuzzy but there's a figure just over your shoulder. How could that be? You looked and there was no one there. That's so strange.

You stare as a chill courses through you. You're thankful you hadn't put your earphones in. You wouldn't have heard whoever it was and they may have even snuck up on you. Or maybe it's just a trick of the light.

You hit ‘post’ and try to shake off the foreboding. It's nothing. You're being silly. Besides, you're home and safe now. Next time, you'll be more alert.

A message pops up. You stare at the dot over the chat bubble. You tap with your thumb and bring up the DMs.

'Stream tonight?' BourbonBear asks.

You tilt your head. You already did some today. You're tired and want to lie down and enjoy your time off. You type back 'sorry, not tonight. tomorrow <3' and another notification vibrates. A comment on your latest post.

'Pretty sweater', also from BourbonBear. You heart their comment and leave a thanks below.

You flip back to the selfie. You can't really see your sweater in the picture, just the scalloped knitting of the collar. Well, you suppose it does look cute. You put your phone down and leave it on your desk. That's enough Insta for today.

🧸

You time your shopping trip for the least busy hour. It's early and the store is almost empty except for employees stacking bread on shelves or wandering listlessly around the deli. You have your phone in the basket of the cart, aimed at you as you roll it along slowly and check your list.

The stream is just as empty. It's only just started but you don't expect too many people to be up at this hour. You stop and grab a loaf of sourdough, checking the date before showing it to the lens and putting it in the cart. You smile and announce the next item.

"Strawberries... you know I was thinking I might get raspberries instead," you say, catching the eye of one of the yawning employees. You must seem like a weirdo. It's why you typically don't film in public.

As you roll around to the fruit, you notice the count change. One viewer. You choose a basket of raspberries and show those. You see a message float up; morning.

You smile and return the greeting softly and place the berries down carefully beside your phone. You need yogurt to go with the berries.

You work down the list, making some substitutes as you tick off each item. You linger in the ice cream section a bit too long and talk yourself out of a gallon of rocky road. You lean on the handle of the cart and smile down at the lens.

"Going to check out," you say, "see you all later."

All? There's still just the one. You end the stream and take your phone out of the basket.

You wheel around to checkout and line up at the only open till. You put your items up as you greet the cashier with a smile. She seems tired as she gives a dull response.

As you put the yogurt on the belt, you sense someone join the queue behind you. You glance over as a large man stands only feet away. He's tall and burly and staring at you. Maybe he heard you talking to your audience, or he would think, yourself. You continue to unload your groceries.

"Never tried those," he comments as you take out a box of strawberry Pocky.

You pause and hold them up, chuckling nervously, as you do.

"Pretty good," you answer, "I eat way too many."

You notice the man doesn't have a basket or a cart. That realisation needles under your skin. Maybe he's just getting lotto or smokes?

"You like sweet stuff."

"Too much," you squeak even though it doesn't sound like a question.

He just stares, not saying a word. You swallow tightly and pull the last few items out of the cart and get behind it to wheel it through the lane. As you do, he looms closely, adding to the sweat gathering on your lower back.

You roll along and wait for the cashier to ring through the rest of your things. She bags them up neatly in two large paper bags. You pay with your card and thank her as you lift the first into your cart. The man behind you moves forward and grabs the second, startling you.

"Got it," he says as he places it with the other, squeezing by you, crowding you.

"Oh, excuse me, sir," you stammer, "oh," you lean on the cart to roll it to the end of the lane as you make space between you and the stranger. "Thanks, er, uh... thanks."

You turn and grab the handle, jittering. He's really weirding you out. Especially as you realise he's walked right by the cashier. He's following you.

"I can help get ‘em in your car," he offers in a drawl.

"Oh, that's alright, I... bus," you cringe as you realise you've said too much.

"I could drive you. I have a truck."

"No thank you," you walk faster, the cart rattling with your pace.

"Why not?"

"I don't know you, erm, sorry--"

"You don't?" He catches up and shoves his phone in your face, your Insta profile glaring back at you, "I paid for the milk, maybe the berries..."

"What?" You stop, just by the door and turn to him. "I don't--"

"You haven't eaten, have you? I'll take you for French toast. That's your favourite."

"Um," you blink at him as your eyes tinge, "I don't..."

"You got me through a hard campaign, just wanna say thank you," he adjusts his cap and you notice the pin on it. He's a veteran. Oh, 'campaign'. 

“Just got back home," he shifts on his feet, a meek gesture for such a large man, "and... your videos helped me remember it. Helped me hold onto it in the sh-- in the stuff."

"I... wow, okay, that's... I'm glad I could do that."

"I really don't mind giving you a ride. Lots of weirdos on the bus," he insists.

"That's nice but--"

"Please," he softens his tone, "been a while since I sat down and had breakfast without worrying about the sky falling."

You shudder and grip the cart tight. You don't know how to say no. You didn't think about who was watching. You always just assumed they were bots. Then you think of the chaching noise and the amount flashing on the screen.

"BourbonBear?" You ask.

"Yeah," he cracks a crooked smile and smooths his hand over his thick beard. "Everyone calls me Syv.”

[laurenairay]

so tell me to leave - W. Nylander

Summary: once is an accident, twice is coincidence, and three times is a pattern. You really needed to stop falling into bed with your ex-boyfriend William.

Happy (early) birthday @cellythefloshie – here is my entry for your birthday bingo celebrations! I managed to hit bingo too, with: one night stand, pining, quickie, ex’s to lovers, autumn birthday. I had a lot of fun writing this one, so I hope you enjoy it!

Words: 1.7k

Warnings: implied smut (off screen), poor communication, William being a flirt, William being an idiot.

Title from July, by Noah Cyrus

~

“This was a mistake.”

“Good morning to you too, käraste.”

You huffed, moving his arm away from your waist so you could get out of his bed. It took all of your strength not to roll your eyes as you saw blatantly check out your bare body.

“I’m serious, William. This can’t happen again,” you said firmly, shimmying back into your dress from last night, eyes desperately searching for your panties.

Three times would be a pattern, after all.

“Ouch, full name before coffee,” he groaned, “Just come back to bed, it’s so early.”

“Not going to happen,” you shot back, giving up on the lost panties in lieu of getting out of his apartment as quickly as possible.

You had other underwear at home – the sacrifice of one black lacy pair wasn’t the end of the world. Even if they were his your favourite. The longer you stayed here, the likelier you were to crack. You knew it. William knew it. It was a downside of having dated him for three years – he knew you far too well. Three months as exes was hardly going to change that all that quickly.

“I missed you this summer,” he murmured, propping his head up with a hand, bicep unfairly bulging.

“You looked like you were having plenty of fun in the UK, I doubt you missed me,” you snorted, picking your phone up from the floor.

The moment those words left your lips, you knew it was a mistake with how his face lit up in delight.

“And there I thought you’d deleted me from your social media,” he grinned.

Ass.

“I have,” you said dryly, “But I still follow your brother.”

His grin dimmed slightly, but he just shook his head.” You always did like Alex more than me.”

You just rolled your eyes. It wasn’t difficult to like his brother more than him right now – Alex wasn’t the one who’d left you in pieces.

“I have things to do, people to see. Or is it things to see, people to do? I always get that mixed up,” you said simply, eyes wide and innocent.

William just snorted. “You’re breaking my heart over here.”

“You broke mine first.”

He inhaled sharply, his composure visibly cracking, before a smooth grin slid over his lips. “I’ll see you soon, käraste.”

You hated how the words made your heart flutter.

~

From: DO NOT ANSWER I believe these are yours? [image]

Your jaw dropped at the message your received three days after the night you’d sworn to forget. The lost black lace panties. He’d had them all this time?

To: DO NOT ANSWER You thief. Why did you keep those?

Your eyes darted over to your coworkers, exiting out of the message thread with William while you waited for a response. The last thing you wanted was for them to see your waylaid underwear on your screen.

From: DO NOT ANSWER I didn’t keep them on purpose. Don’t you remember I shoved them in the back pocket of my jeans when I dropped to my knees by the front door? I definitely remember.

Your cheeks flushed with heat. Of course you remembered his hungry gaze looking up at you and the way he muscled his shoulders in between your thighs. How could you possibly forget that?

To: DO NOT ANSWER You are the worst. I want those back.

His quick response left you breathless.

From: DO NOT ANSWER You want them? Come and get them.

~

“You know, when I said come and get them, I didn’t necessarily mean straight after you finished work. That’s got to be a record for how fast I’ve gotten you from my front door to screaming my name,” William mused.

He just had to ruin the moment.

You lifted your head from the pillow, glaring down at him and squirming as he dug his chin into your belly button, your bare thighs framing his face like the artwork it was.

“And have you keep them like a weird trophy? No thank you,” you shot back, ignoring the jibe about the lightning-fast speed of your rendezvous.

He just cackled, smacking a kiss to your bare hip before rolling out of your hold. You shivered at the lack of body warmth, trying to keep your cool as he crawled up beside you to thump himself down on the pillow next to yours.

“I know you miss me, käraste.”

Something about the way he looked into your eyes, skin all flushed from your recent activities and a small smile on his lips – well, it left you feeling vulnerable.

“William,” was all you could murmur.

“I miss you,” he said firmly, “I miss you so much and I’m pretty sure my whole family is sick of me talking about you.”

He talked about you to his family still?

He missed you?

“You’re the one who broke up with me, remember?” you said shakily, pulling the sheets up to cover your chest.

“And I regret it every day. I was an idiot,” he said softly.

“You can’t just say these things! It isn’t fair!” you groaned, sitting upright.

William sat up next to you, running a hand through his tousled hair. “I know okay, I know. But I’m holding onto hope that you still miss me too! This is the third time we’ve fallen into bed together since we broke up. The first, when you came to pick up your belongings before I left for summer – once is an accident. But the second time three days ago? Twice is coincidence. Three times now…well, it’s a pattern. Three times when I didn’t deserve it, you still graced my bed with your presence. So I’m sorry if I’m not making things fair right now, but this is hard on me too.”

He was pining. William Nylander was pining.

Tears stung at your eyes and you turned your head away from him, but he placed a hand on your thigh over the bedsheet, staying silent. As much as your hated to a admit it, he had a point. Three times was a pattern. But was it a pattern you needed to break, after the way he treated you?

“You tossed me aside like old trash, William. You broke up with me out of nowhere, when all I’ve ever done is love you, and support you, and care for you. All because I dared to smile when Steph and Mitch joked that I’d be the one walking down the aisle next. A joke. A simple joke, because we’d been together for three years and they could see how much I loved you. But that wasn’t enough for you, or it scared you, or whatever the hell it did to make you break my heart and run away,” you said angrily, tears making your voice watery.

William’s hand tightened on your thigh briefly before it slid away, and you finally looked back at him to see tears in his own eyes.

“You’re right. I panicked. I messed up the best relationship I’ve ever had because before you I’d never thought about marriage, not seriously. And then they brought it up and it was all I could think about and I spiralled and I panicked. I’m sorry, käraste. I’ll never be able to make up for how sorry I am.”

Your lips parted in surprise at the raw emotion in his words, speechless for once. His tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, and he took a shaky breath before smiling sadly.

“I’m sorry that I hurt you, and I’m sorry for breaking your heart, and I’m sorry that my insecurities and panic took control. I know that I don’t deserve your forgiveness, let alone even having you here right now, but I don’t know what I can do to convince you that I mean it. I love you. I love you and I miss you,” he murmured.

He loved you.

He loved you and he missed you.

Fresh tears spilled down your cheeks at the honesty in his words, every ounce of him genuine and soul-destroying. A whimper tore from your throat at the very thought of him still loving you, and it was all you could do to clutch at his shoulders as he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours in the gentlest of kisses, barely able to catch your breath as he rested his forehead against yours.

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are,” you managed to choke out.

William smiled sadly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leaning backwards to look into your eyes properly.

“Is there any chance that you can forgive me, and give me a second chance? Even the slightest sliver of hope?” he asked, chewing his bottom lip.

“I don’t know if I could cope with that kind of heartbreak again,” you said hesitantly.

He let out a shaky breath but nodded. “I understand.”

If ever there was a time to trust your gut, now was it.

“It would take a lot for me to trust you again.”

His lips parted, a stunned expression seeping across his face.

“And we shouldn’t sleep together until I feel like you won’t break my heart again.”

“You mean…”

He trailed off, eyes wide as he ran his hand over his hair.

You winced. “If that’s a deal breaker then-”

“No no no you’ve given me hope, don’t stop now,” William grinned, making you huff out a laugh, “It’s your birthday next week right? Do you have any plans yet?”

“I don’t have any plans yet, no. Why?” you said, raising an eyebrow.

Where was he going with this?

“Let me take you out for dinner. There’s this great Thai place that’s just opened up. They use seasonal produce and I’ve heard their fall menu is incredible. There’s no-one I’d rather go with, other than you. So let me take you out for your birthday, please?”

“You want to take me out for my birthday?” you asked, surprised.

“I want to take you out on a date. It just so happens that I can spoil you for your birthday at the same time. I want to treat you just like you deserve, käraste, just as I should’ve always treated you. And you deserve the world.”

How could you say no to that?

“You only get one second chance,” you warned him, unable to stop the smile that spread over your lips.

“That’s all I need. I’m going to make this up to you, I promise,” he grinned.

[solarsa1nt]

𐚁֙࿐ APPEARANCES

ryōmen sukuna x fem!reader

Tags — fluff , cuddling , innate domain , soft sukuna

Notes — none

It's ironic, Y/N supposes.

How one of the most insufferable beings to her was the one who brings her the most comfort on nights like these.

There was an unspoken arrangement— Y/N wasn't sure how it even started, mostly remembering vague images through the tears that had blurred her vision that night.

Of the sea of blood that coated the ground beneath them, of the ribcage trapping them inside like the cage, of the soft white of the kimono she clung onto.

Y/N shifts her leg so her calf was no longer pressing into one of the sharp horns that constructed the throne they were atop of.

The arms around her waist tighten at the action, unconsciously pulling her closer as a small sigh leaves Y/N's lips.

She didn't even know Sukuna could sleep. Y/N thinks to herself, unamused gaze tracing over the curse's features— vaguely noting how they seemed sharper than Yuuji's.

Actually, he seemed to be overall different than Yuuji. Sure, it's undoubtable that they looked uncannily similar, but Sukuna makes Yuuji seem older— the way he wore Yuuji's skin was so different that after truly looking at him, it's a surprise that they're meant to be identical.

And their faces... Y/N raises a hand, curiosity making up her expression as she goes to grab his face— wanting to tilt it to get a better angle.

Her plans come screeching to a halt as a tattooed hand grabs her wrist.

The hold was tight, yet somehow not painful. Two red eyes peer open, the bottom pair narrowed at her as the main set stays closed.

"And what do you think you're doing, brat?"

Y/N stays silent, continuing to stare at him wordlessly as her lips part slightly in surprise before closing once again.

The top set of eyes eventually open to glare at her directly, puddles of red that showed mild annoyance mixed with something unreadable deep within them.

"..Your face is different from Yuuji's." Y/N voices her observation quietly, as if she were still only just processing that fact herself.

"Oh? And that's what made you grow bold enough to touch me without permission?" Sukuna questions, yet still lets go of her wrist, allowing it to fall between them.

The one hand still around her waist tightens, the other raising to lean his head against as he continues to stare at her.

Y/N blinks back at him with an unfazed expression, "Is it because of the amount of fingers he consumed? Can you alter your appearance— if so, why only slight changes? Could you return to your original appeara—"

"Enough questions." Sukuna cuts her off before she could voice the rest of her thoughts.

An agitated frown tugs on her lips, but Y/N remains reluctantly silent. She knew what limits she could and couldn't push— she couldn't bring herself to risk whatever was going on between them.

Moving his hand that was propping up his head, he pushes her head against his shoulder— momentary confusion stemming from Y/N before she decides just to accept whatever was happening.

He's comfortable, so who is she to complain?

Vaguely, Y/N wonders how anybody else would react if she told them about using the king of curses as a pillow— a comfortable pillow, at that.

Well, whatever, it's not like she plans on telling anybody about this. Ever.

© 𝓢OLARSAINT 2024 ─── all of my works belong me alone! do not copy, steal, plagiarize, or spread any of my works in any other social media platform. these have only been reloaded on my own accounts on ao3 and wattpad

[moonxytcn]

could you do a Billie Eilish x reader fanfic where reader covers one of bullies songs in her live and billie ends up seeing it and forces Finneas to stalk readers social media with her?

cover of Billie's song

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – You cover a Billie song and she makes her brother stalk you on social media

warnings – fluffy

a/n – Thank you for the request and I'm sorry for the delay in posting

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

–––

You sit in your cozy room, bathed in the soft, glowing light of your fairy lights. Your laptop is propped up on a stack of books, angled just right for your live stream. You glance nervously at the viewer count – there are a few more people than usual tonight. It’s both exciting and terrifying. Your fingers hover over your guitar strings, trembling slightly. Tonight, you’ve decided to cover a Billie Eilish song, a bold choice for your small but dedicated audience.

Taking a deep breath, you adjust the microphone and start strumming the opening chords of "Ocean Eyes." Your voice, a bit shaky at first, gains confidence as you lose yourself in the music. The chat lights up with hearts and encouraging comments. You can almost feel the virtual applause as you finish the last note, a sense of accomplishment washing over you.

Little do you know, on the other side of town, Billie Eilish is lounging on her couch, scrolling through Instagram. She’s idly checking her notifications when she stumbles upon your live stream, shared by a fan account she follows. Intrigued, she taps the link and starts watching. She’s immediately struck by the raw emotion in your voice and the intimate atmosphere you’ve created. There’s something genuine and captivating about your performance.

As soon as the song ends, Billie’s fingers fly across her phone screen. She sends the link to her brother, Finneas, with a simple message: "You have to see this." Finneas, in the middle of mixing a new track in his home studio, pauses when his phone buzzes. With a sigh, he checks the message and clicks the link. Within moments, he’s as engrossed as Billie was.

"We need to find this girl." Billie texts him, excitement bubbling in her words. Finneas, ever the supportive brother, agrees with a chuckle. He begins a deep dive into your social media profiles, following the breadcrumbs you’ve left behind – Instagram, Twitter, even your less active TikTok account. Billie joins in, her heart racing with the thrill of discovery.

Meanwhile, your stream is winding down. You thank your viewers, blushing at the outpouring of love and support. As you log off, your phone buzzes with a notification. Your heart skips a beat when you see that Finneas has followed you on Instagram. You double-check to make sure it’s not a fan account. Nope, it’s the real deal. Before you can process this, another notification pops up – Billie Eilish herself has followed you too.

Your mind races. Is this real? You pinch yourself, just to be sure. The adrenaline surges through your veins as you type a thank you message, fingers fumbling over the keys. You hit send, half-expecting no reply. But to your astonishment, Billie responds almost immediately.

"Loved your cover! Want to chat?" She writes. You stare at the screen, momentarily paralyzed. Billie Eilish wants to talk to you? You quickly type back, trying to keep your cool, and soon you’re exchanging messages, your excitement growing with each reply.

Over the next few days, you find yourself in a whirlwind of communication with Billie and Finneas. They ask about your influences, your favorite songs, and your musical journey. They share stories from their own experiences, offering advice and encouragement. It feels surreal, like a dream you never want to wake from.

Then, one afternoon, your phone rings. It’s a video call from Billie. You take a deep breath and answer, your face breaking into a smile as her familiar features fill the screen.

"Hey!" Billie greets you with a grin. "I was just talking to Finneas, and we think you have an incredible talent. How would you feel about collaborating on something?"

Your heart skips a beat. Collaborate? With Billie Eilish and Finneas? You can hardly believe your ears. You nod eagerly, words failing you for a moment.

"That would be amazing!" You finally manage to say, your voice trembling with excitement. Billie’s smile widens.

"Great! Let’s start brainstorming. I have a few ideas I think you’d really shine on." She says, and just like that, you’re discussing music and melodies, your nerves slowly giving way to pure joy.

Over the next few weeks, you work closely with Billie and Finneas, exchanging ideas and crafting a song that feels like a perfect blend of your styles. The experience is intense, challenging, and incredibly rewarding. You learn so much, not just about music, but about yourself and your potential.

The day the song is released, you watch in awe as it climbs the charts, your name next to Billie’s in the credits. Your phone buzzes non-stop with messages from friends and family, and your social media explodes with new followers and comments.

In your room, the fairy lights casting a warm glow, you strum your guitar and sing along to the song you helped create. It’s more than just a collaboration; it’s a turning point, the start of a new chapter in your life. And it all began with a simple cover, a leap of faith that led to a dream come true.

[artoflittlemisssquiggles]

FANCY CUP O' TEA ☕ CAFE MARSHMILLE

This was a little test I created during my progress on my Cafe Marshmilla project posted yesterday.

Turntable animation was created in Marmoset Toolbag and the entire video was composited and rendered using Photoshop.

~LittleMissSquiggles (2024)

[post-hummus]

Some behind the scenes looks at masks & puppet fabrication for a production of The Lion King for Techland Houston, designed by Afsaneh Aayani. This was my first contract job working alongside a crew of other artists and, while we had a really tight deadline, it was an incredibly fulfilling experience for me. ♡♡♡

This was very much a collaborative effort, so we all picked up where someone else left off during certain shifts. I helped sculpt masks, draft puppet patterns, cut & assemble foam, and paint/embellish small ornamental details.

The finished pieces can be viewed here!

More WIP can be viewed under the cut! Thanks for looking!

⋆.★⋆. Thanks for looking! ⋆.★⋆.

[moonsaver]

The care Package III

Our production line seems to be having problems. Our users are asked to cooperate as the packages have been mixed and sent to different users who had not ordered for the received false packages. This is a guide in the case our users are unable to, or decide not to, return the package.

-

Summary: refer to part 1 here! It contains Dr ratio and Argenti. Part 2 is here with Aventurine and Sunday. This part contains Kafka and Blade!

-

The Velvet Package

The package shakes a bit, and then settles quietly. You stare at it for a while, but no other movement seems to take place. After a while, you decide to open it..

The package itself is very neatly tied – it's purple in color and highlighted by silver linings, however, the fanciful ribbons seem amiss.. perhaps it was an overlooked detail?

On the inside is a Kafka, who seems to be enjoying her nap. Users are advised to wait for Kafka to wake up instead of taking the initiative. Some users report a pleasantly humorous experience, while some users report a mysterious and eerie one, if they wake up Kafka by initiative.

Kafka is a very pleasant one! Her Beginner and Intermediate stages do not differ by much. She is conversable, and does not explore her surroundings too much in the absence of User. Beginner Kafka will need a comfortable and relaxed environment – preferably one that has a very lively but slow-going vibe. Beginner Kafka however, may continue to feel distant with the user. Users may level up Kafka from Beginner to Intermediate by spending more time with her, and trying to understand her personal taste, asking opinions, and engaging Kafka in more activities that may deepen your bonds.

Feel free to pick up Kafka however you'd like. But.. the user must also know that Kafka will remember it very well into her Advanced Stage.

Intermediate Kafka is not so different. She may grow more curious, however, and explore her gift box for the default accessories that may have been gifted alongside her. Some users state their experience with Kafka as blissful, and some express their annoyance, as users have stated Kafka may play her Violin Prop 2 whenever she pleases, which is often, and even may do so in the middle of the night. You may try to come to a compromise with Kafka by setting specific time frames for her to play the violin. As for whether she will listen.. that is up to her.

Intermediate Kafka will also interact more personally and frequently with User – especially regarding medias revolving around movies or cosmetics. Kafka is especially helpful if you have a date night. Her skill, Insightful Understanding [II] may help decipher the feelings of those around you, and of yourself. She will often listen to your troubles and try to give meaningful solutions, or a good ear to listen. However – Kafka is also prone to teasing the user regarding some of their choices and feelings, which may lead some users to feel embarrassed. This is simply Kafka trying to deepen her bond with user, so please be open and friendly to her.

Advanced Kafka experiences and brings many changes that users may deem extreme. Kafka at this stage is described to be “close but distant” at the same time. She offers good advice, as her skill, Insightful Understanding levels up from [II] to [III], also giving her a bonus skill of Strategic Fear [II], letting Kafka be able to manipulate others as the user pleases. Kafka also would like to play strategic games more often such as Chess. She is prone to utilising the Toy Gun accessories in a strange manner, and may set up false targets to “practice”. Users are advised to let Kafka do as such, as she will continue regardless of user's satisfaction. Kafka may also go through user's personal belongings and set up many outfit combinations for user, give cosmetic and clothing advice, and help user with their personal taste. However, Kafka herself has very expensive taste, so she may request silk or velvet cloths for her own use. Users are advised to order accessories to please Kafka's demands from our Website, instead.

Users do not usually have to worry about ordering extra accustomed accessories such as Violin Prop 3, Sword Prop 2, etc.. for Advanced Kafka, as she may do it so herself. She will become much more self-sufficient, and may even go as far as to take care of and repair User's belongings aswell. 

Congratulations! Now you have a Kafka. She may grow up to about 5’7-5’8 in height, and will usually lounge around. Users are advised to keep a close eye on Kafka and not let her abuse her skill, Strategic Fear [II], as it may level up to Strategic Fear [IV], and potentially cause legal issues. {Our company has advised our users thoroughly, and whatever issues may follow are not our responsibility. However, if we deem that the User is too morally bankrupt, we may take back Kafka}. Kafka is prone to Loneliness [I] and will often want to spend time with User whenever they are free – but she may not verbalize these feelings, so users are encouraged to set up a routine Kafka can look forward to, such as movie nights, sleepovers, etc.. User may be able to assist Kafka feel less lonely by her Companion Feature – Trailblazer, Blade, Silver Wolf, or Sam may be added and housed alongside her. However, users are cautioned not to let them be alone for too long, lest they end up causing trouble..

-

The Black Package

The package is silent for the longest time. However, if it is left for too long, the package will start violently shaking, before bursting open and then staying silent once again.

Inside the package is a tired Blade – he is not comfortable or pleased with his circumstances of being tiny and inside the box.

Users are advised to immediately try and comfort Blade by using the accessories provided – First aid kit Prop 1, Music Box prop 1, Medicine 3, etc..

Beginner Blade may be standoff-ish, and very distant. He will be reluctant to leave his gift box, and interact with the outside environment. Users are advised to place Blade inside his box, and somewhere stable with dim-lighting, with little change and a lot of privacy and quietness. Beginner Blade takes a lot of time to adjust well to his surroundings due to his senses – Sense Enhancement [II], which makes him prone to sensory overstimulation and anxiety easily. He may growl if you try to force him out of his gift box.

Do not pick up Blade. He will not like it. It will increasingly stunt his growth if the user persists and insists on picking up Blade.

Users often complain it is difficult to level up Blade from his Beginner stage to Intermediate stage. We urge our users to be patient with Blade. You may help him by offering him comfort with Music box Prop 1, and converse often with him. Blade does not seem talkative, but he often finds comfort in User's personal daily life. Blade is prone to Loneliness [III], and may immediately delevel if neglected for even a day. Users are advised to keep Blade company for 7-8 hours a day – as long as Blade is within the user's vicinity, he will feel accompanied.

Intermediate Blade will continue his state of stagnancy, but will occasionally show some symptoms of growth – he may take the initiative and ask for User's day, hum along quietly to the Music box, explore his surroundings a bit more, and take a few trinkets of User to keep in his gift box. Depending on how often User may chose to have spent time with Blade, resistance against Loneliness [III] evolves it into Loneliness [I], and Blade will be able to feel more assured and less lonely in times of User's absence. He may also verbalize quiet and short appreciation if user chooses to leave by a small note of assurance in their absence.

Users are cautioned to be well prepared in advance for Advanced Blade. In this Stage, Blade is prone to Mara Deterioration [IV] which greatly affects his mental state. Users are advised to order for Medicine 2 as an accustomed accessory for Advanced Blade. You may also help Advanced Blade by his Companion feature, and bring in a Kafka or a Silver Wolf. They will help tether the Mara Deterioration to a level [II]. However, users are cautioned to not under any circumstances, house others with Blade's Companion feature – especially Dan Heng, Jing Yuan, and Jingliu. This may immediately delevel Advanced Blade back to his Beginner stage, and worsen Mara Deterioration to a [V] {Blade is at risk of permanent damage.}

Advanced Blade is quiet, and does not often converse, similar to his Beginner Stage. However, he is more open to exploring newer areas, and may take up an interest in his Sword Prop 4, and practice it on makeshift targets made of useless or waste belongings of the User. He does not demand much, except for the occasional pain medicine. However, Blade's Sense Enhancement [II] levels up to a Sense Enhancement [IV], and he will protect and warn User of any incoming danger or hazard that may pose a risk to their life.

Congratulations! You now have a Blade. He may grow up to about 5'10-6’1 in size. Blade offers a good ear for Users who often make light-hearted and easy conversation, and talk about their days. Blade may make an effort to verbalize his appreciation for User's support, so we urge user to remain patient with Blade. He may insist on being called Yingxing from time to time. {Our users are advised not to fret, this was the name of our previous Blade Model}. He may also offer to act as User's bodyguard.. as long as User is ready to take on the responsibility of his actions. {Our company has advised our users thoroughly, and whatever issues may follow are not our responsibility. However, if we deem that the User is too morally bankrupt, we may take back Blade}. Have fun with your.. Blade. 

-

[witchwyfe]

best way to spend a summer day - kook friend group

pairing - (non-canon) platonic!kook friend group x female reader, (non canon) platonic!rafe cameron x female reader, (non canon) platonic!topper thornton x female reader, (non canon) platonic!kelce x female reader

précis - golfing with the boys!

content/warnings - mentions of alcohol, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, mentions of eating, language

word count - 818

"What if we--"

"No."

"Please!"

"No."

"Please angel, we'll only do 9 holes and then buy you lunch after." Topper, ever the mediator, offers.

"You were gonna buy me lunch anyway."

Rafe rolls his eyes and you snicker, leaning back in the lounge chair you're resting in.

"I just don't understand why this how y'all want to spend your time. Kelce's internship and Rafe's study abroad start in one month, we're wasting our one month of summer by fucking hitting balls on grass."

You're met with three glares and simultaneous responses.

"Okay, you can't say 'we' if you haven't even been going."

"There is way more technique than just hitting balls."

"Hey!"

"And what would you suggest we do then, mamas?" Kelce asks, raising an eyebrow over his sunglasses. 

Your face warms at being put on the spot, three gazes stuck patiently on you.

"I don't know, shopping on the mainland, movie nights, brunch at the island club--"

"You can have island club drinks on the golf cart!" Rafe exclaims, throwing his arms up before slapping them at his sides. "And we'll get brunch afterwards."

You sigh dramatically. "9 holes? Not 18?"

Rafe smiles, knowing they've already won. "Of course."

Topper picks you up bright and early the next morning, Rafe and Kelce already packed into the backseat with one set of clubs, the other two in the trunk.

"Morning boys." You smile sarcastically, climbing into the front passenger seat.

"Good morning mamas." Kelce smiles. "Thank you for coming."

"Hm, y'all better make it worth my while." You joke.

"Getting to spend time with your best friends isn't worth it?" Rafe asks, feigning offense.

"Shut up," You groan. "You guys know I love you. Even when you make me golf."

They all made a big deal about your new Lululemon golf dress, and promise to take cute pictures of you in the golf cart, all by the time you pull up to the country club.

You juggle your sunglasses, phone, and water bottle once Rafe opens the door for you.

"Thank you Rafe," You smile, reaching up to pinch his cheeks. "You're such a gentleman."

You wait with Kelce while the other two go to get the cart. You let their clubs stay propped up against your legs so that don't fall to the ground.

Topper takes the purple Stanley--that he got you for Christmas--from your hands and sets it into the cup holder. You help them load up their clubs then you're making yourself comfortable in the front again.

"Do they sell cocktails at the beverage carts?" You wonder. "Or should I grab one now before we go?"

"Think they only sell beer, babe." Kelce frowns. "And they don't allow open cups on the course."

You groan, leaning your head back. Rafe digs around in his golf bag, brandishing a small bottle of champagne.

"Don't worry bestie girl, we didn't forget about you." He smiles, shoving the bottle back inside. "Gonna get you some orange juice from the bev cart and you can make a mimosa."

"Rafe!" You cry, throwing your arms around him. "You're the best!"

"I know, I know," He smirks. "Aren't you glad you came with us, now?"

"I guess," You grumble, playfully rolling your eyes.

You sit comfortably in the golf cart, while your friends play, sipping on the mimosa Rafe mixed you, scrolling on social media, and occasionally reminding the boys to reapply their sunscreen.

Kelce even dragged you out to take a swing and they all cheered you on when you failed miserably, taking a sloppy bow before skipping back to the golf cart.

Once you’re back at the club, seated at your favorite table, you’re lightly clasping your mimosa glass in your hand—this one prepared by your waiter and not Rafe with his Blender bottle.

“I think it tasted better when you made it, Rafe.” You frown, taking another sip anyway.

“'Course it did.” He grins smugly. 

You pull a lip gloss from the handy pocket in your golf outfit, coating a thick layer over your lips. You take your napkin and work it over the rim of your glass too, even though you'll get more gloss stuck to it on your next sip.

"You're just one of the boys, aren't you?" Topper teases, just to mess with you.

You cap your gloss and set it on the table, narrowing your eyes into a glare at Topper. "No, I am not."

 "Yeah, she's like our bratty little sister." Rafe pipes up, reaching over the table to steal a handful of your fries. 

"Yeah, I'm the bratty one." You smack Rafe's hand, grinning when he whines. "And I'm literally older than you, Rafe."

"By like two months!" He argues.

"Okay and?" You retort. "Still older."

He makes a point by stealing more of your fries.

"Brat. You know you're the one paying for those, right?"

© witchwyfe 2023. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.