#shoutout to my grandma for sending me

[max--phillips]

Sometimes u just gotta bake cookies at 1 am

[tidepoolalgae]

.

[aces-and-angels]

countdown to 2024 @choicesfandomappreciation

deadlines? we don't know her😗💅🏼 so many works to shoutout- so brace yourselves gang- this'll be a long one

now- without further ado- here are some writers that made my year:

🖤@thedistantshoresproject

sending love to the whole team on board who are working tirelessly to finish this magnificent project. i was so excited to read the demo this year! knowing how long the journey has been and reading the updates each week- i realize how weary yall must be and hope that i can convey my gratitude for bringing back our favorite pirates in one awesome sequel 🖤

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🖤@bloodboundsiege

another demo for the books- and another fanmade project that i am rooting for; i personally have only read through finn's demo but i'm already in love with all the characters. plus- who wouldn't be excited for the chance to romance gaius??? there is a ton of lore in op's blog for all the new lis that i 100% recommend to read through. excited to see what's in store in the new year!

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🖤@hashiedraws

the way i ran to play this story when it dropped😭 if yall are fans of ilw- then you may know that one of the artists released this wonderful vn this year. it's a story that keeps on serving 🎾 the artwork is incredible and the accompanying story is an absolute treasure. i was on the floor- in tears- jaw-dropped. trust me- it was an experience. one i recommend yall take too 😊

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🖤 @lovehugsandcandy

the queen of colt- and tbh- one of my literary muses. your writing is such an inspiration to me and having you back on the dash this year for blades was definitely a highlight 🖤 a snippet from one of my favorite fics this year:

read 'bound' here "Of course. We have plenty of time for that... don't we?" “Because you’re not leaving?” He squeezes her hand. “I’m not leaving.”  It’s a whisper more powerful than any rope.

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🖤@jerzwriter

the heart you have is so warm and inviting- and it shows with each work you've shared🖤 i've cherished reading your works for trystan x carolina- picking one to highlight seems cruel but i'll give it a shot lol. their banter/dynamic is so beautifully portrayed and never fails to bring a smile to my face:

read 'tricks and treats' here “There is no Trystan,” he snickered, playfully pulling her close. “Only the Big Bad Wolf..uh.. no.. I mean Grandma! I’m Grandma, trust me.” “Grandma? What big paws you have!” she beamed as he nuzzled into her neck and playfully growled. “The better to paw you with, my dear...” “Well, you can paw me once we get to the party. We’re very late.”

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🖤@theoriginaltortuga

your four part series- 'responsibility, rage, and recent resurrection' was such a good read and deserves some love. it ain't a secret i'm a big ilw fan- and a sucker for bonus scenes. reading a more fleshed out version of connor's eventual turning was *chef's kiss* immaculate- i shamelessly go back to this fic from time to time:

read 'responsibility, rage, and recent resurrection' here Grief and terror had been a part of Connor since the night Devon died. The feelings came and went, but they never left completely and Connor worried that he would never feel peace again. With Devon alive but unconscious, a massacre set for a few days, and the man who’d killed his mother on the loose; those feelings were more overwhelming than ever. Not to mention the anger that had been festering in his chest since his mom was killed. All of it led back to one simple thing: Westchester wasn’t safe. 

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🖤@linkysmommy

mother lincoln- i wanna thank you for blessing me with not only ilw itself but ilw fics (and some other works of yours i've recently had the pleasure of reading😉) though, imma pivot real quick from ilw and actually give some praise to another project of yours- and the reason i downloaded storyloom in the first place- open heart: a toxic situation. what a story full of mystery, romance, and ✨bryce✨ (there are multiple lis to choose from- i just really love bryce lmao)

read this beauty right here

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🖤 @saibug1022

the angst legend- i go to you for the hurt lmaoo. but really- it is a talent to write the way you do and i'm lucky to reap the benefits of reading your work. the time you put into crafting your mcs- making them fully fleshed out blorbos- then giving the most heart-wrenching scenarios to deal with- incredible✨ here's some love for the villain stories out there:

read 'a funeral of faith' here “I had no place in Undermount while humans and orcs treated me like an outsider. I was kidnapped and tortured while my friends and two of the men I loved gave up on me and left me to die. And the other man I loved used and betrayed me for power and disappeared when I still forgave him.”

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🖤 @professor-abeloved

prepare to be adored, admired, and appreciated- your mcs are everything to me. the way you write is so special and uniquely you- and i love your work dearly. i've got your fics seared in my brain- here's one of the many (bc we as a fandom silently agreed that linc angst just hits different):

read 'lincoln's bad day' here “Sorry,” Ro called out for what felt like the nth time with an awkward grimace. “You okay? I can get an ice pack or a salonpas or—” “It’s fine,” Lincoln says, clutching his aching jaw. In some weird way, it’s surprisingly… therapeutic? There’s something about a being confronted with such raw, unimaginable Power that has the capacity to utterly destroy you if it chooses, but instead it’s draping a small, lilac cardigan over your shoulders as it looks you over for bruises. read 'lincoln's bad day' here “Sorry,” Ro called out for what felt like the nth time with an awkward grimace. “You okay? I can get an ice pack or a salonpas or—” “It’s fine,” Lincoln says, clutching his aching jaw. In some weird way, it’s surprisingly… therapeutic? There’s something about a being confronted with such raw, unimaginable Power that has the capacity to utterly destroy you if it chooses, but instead it’s draping a small, lilac cardigan over your shoulders as it looks you over for bruises.

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🖤@mydemonsdrivealimo

bless your beautiful, magnificent brain- atp your hcs are my canon lmaoo. bryce and jensen are so special to me and it's no secret how much love you've poured into them through your work. slowly but surely, i'm getting around to reading all the fics of theirs. the ones i have read were amazing. time to shower praise for your most recent work (also i'm rooting for you- writer's block is a biatch):

read 'halloween' here “Hey, sorry,” Bryce said, giving his waist a quick squeeze before unceremoniously flopping into one of the chairs, the force sending it back enough that Jensen had to pull him closer. “You’re lucky I didn’t lock you out and eat it for you,” Jensen said with a quick wave to the food in front of him, taking a seat in his own chair. “M’fucking starving.” He was already shoveling crab rangoon into his mouth, ignoring the steam coming off of it.

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🖤 @aria-ashryver

a ray of sunshine- you deserve the world and more🥰 one thing on my to-do list for the new year is to finally sit down and read SICSIG. from the snippets i've seen, i know i'll treasure the heck out of it. when i do- i apologize in advance for the person i become lmao (give it up for the poly romance yall)

read 'snow in crimson, starlight in gold' here

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🖤@me

self-love, amirite? reading through old works is either a hit or miss for me lol- but the process of writing has been a welcome journey of mine. from the frantic word vomit to staring at a blinking cursor- it's been a ride. and i'm thankful to everyone above for inspiring me to keep moving forward 🖤

read whatever yall want here

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this list could go on and on and i'm definitely missing some people- but to the writers out there: you are the heartbeat of the fandom and we are lucky to have you 🖤

[fareehaandspaniards]

Once you get this, you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly. Then you have to send this to ten of your favorite followers ❤️

DEW IT DEW IT <3

Thanks Crow <3 I barely can think of more than prev 5 things but okay it might be good exercise for anti-selfdeprecation

Blushing too much, many people find it cute

2. My polish roots lol (shoutout to my grand-grand-grand-grandma and to my ma for my cool double name)

3. How I look

4. Optimism

Once husband asked me "what if we would die tomorrow?" and I answered "I wouldn't need to go to work yay"

5. My story "The sun of the Utt" with ocs and stuff. I love the idea, the OCs and the fact that if I finish this work, it would be reflection of everything I ever experienced. But saying this I use "if" - I can't say that I will have time and energy for this (yay girl better draw more shitposts phahah)

It needs to be reworked but after Bloodborne I feel much more energy for doing it.

[softlyspector]

Hi Becca!!! It's obnoxiously long asks anon again :) I hope you are doing well. Clouds and Strawberries had my jaw in the floooooooor they were so amazing. My heart felt heavy but in a good way, you know? Like I don't have HBO and I had never had any exposure to video games but I looked up every TLOU thing I could find online once you started writing for Joel just to be able to understand and girl... the way you made me care about the pixel Texan... I will leave proper commentary on all your Joel fics but I don't like leaving things unfinished and I'm pretty sure I'd only commented on the first 2 parts of Moon Struck so I'm back on that train!! (Sorry that there was a bit of a lag in sending you this love, life was hitting me right in the chest with multiple arrows going like 6272994 kilometers/hour so I fell off for a sec. Trust that I was reading and rereading your fics to get me through it but I just needed a min to have my meltdown and now I'm back!!)

Ok SO. Can I talk about how much I love that 3 moons starts with Marc being self-conscious about how he looks? I love a man with a bit of a dark/rough exterior who is a fluffy ball of anxiety on the inside. Like the scene that truly made me fall in love with Moon Knight as a show was when Marc was trying to get Steven to calm down and Steven was hurling all these insults and yelling at Marc and Marc kept his composure right until steven accused Marc of abandoning Lyla and that's when he snaps and yells back, that's when it's revealed that Marc kinda ruined his entire life in an effort to keep Lyla safe. I mean his communication skills could use some refinement but that "I care so much it's eating me alive" undercurrent is so quintessential to Marc's character and just the way he is fidgeting in front of the mirror gets that across. When I read "he cares so much it makes him feel stupid and sick" I wanted to nod like a bobblehead!!! And scream "YES YES YOU GET IT"!! I believe I've mentioned this previously but to me you truly are such a queen when it comes to characterisation!!! We love to see it!!

Another thing that I adore about you writing the Moon Knight system? The way you get each alters' voice so RIGHT!! So distinct!! The vibe between Marc and Steven in particular is such a favourite of mine, feels totally believable after where season 1 ended and is soooo entertaining to read. The part about Marc intentionally misrepresenting what steven said gets me EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. It's just so cute and sweet and it makes me feel all giggly and soft.

I can't remember if I mentioned this last time but I looooooooove the jacket they gave her using Konshu's protective fabric being able to shapeshift. It's my Roman Empire, I think about at least like twice a week (aside. A younger friend of mine who is on tiktok had to explain that to me last week. I'm not even that old but I felt like such a grandma)

Shoutout to the part where both Steven and Marc are telling her how good she looks and you wrote this: '“You both just think that because I’m wearing something you gave me,” you tease, trying to downplay their compliments for reasons Marc won’t make himself understand.' Oh my GOD. Oh my god oh my god ohmygod. I think I am particularly weak for the "for reasons Marc won't make himself understand". Also the full-circle moment where Marc realises why Steven hesitated in kissing her? I WOULD INSERT THE POETIC CINEMA MEME BUT YOU CAN’T DO THAT ON ANON!!! JUST KNOW THAT I AM THINKING IT

Marc reflecting on how happy she looks, how happy he feels, how he denied himself (and her) happiness for an entire year bc he didn't think he deserved it, Steven saying "I bloody well told you so" SENDING YOU THE BILL FOR THE HEART MEDICATION I NEED BECAUSE OF THIS MA'AM HOW DARE YOU. Definitely not bc I too have denied myself happiness thinking I don't deserve it. Definitely definitely not. Nuh-uh. I would never. One of the many reasons I love reading your fics couldn't be that I see myself reflected in the people you write and it makes me feel like maybe I could be that happy too. Nope could absolutely not be one of the reasons. MOVING ON

The way you wrote her thinking about learning to read Marc, and how romantic and thoughtful and protective he is, the way he has been making an effort learn her in return and get better at communicating ("especially when it's hard" has my ENTIRE HEART), and her cataloging baseball as important to Marc? I am cradling them in the palm of my hand. I am feeding them like little baby animals. I am holding them close to my heart like a scared child hugs a stuffed animal. It's the off-the-charts adorableness that really does it for me, personally. Side note I now want to go bowling and have a TON of fries. I am really shit at bowling though so if the avatar of an ancient Egyptian deity was sgowing me how to do it I would not be faking my lack of skill 😂😂

The way the date got to be what Marc was hoping it would be in the beginning?? THE FACT THAT HE SAID HE WOULDN'T BUT STILL LET HER WIN, the way she thiught he was rejecting her touch for a sec but he was just collecting himself and listening to Steven for a sec, the kiss, the way she could feel Marc's heartbeat going insane? I am unwell. Please universe excuse I shall need 3-5 business days to recover.

Marc being protective because the dance company was making her feel like shit... as someone who had to quit something recently despite having invested a lot of time, energy, effort and care into it, all because it was having awful effects on my mental health, rereading this specific part of the fic was SO comforting. Also the 3-way convo between her, Dteven and Marc was brilliantly written. Callbacks, humour, genuine tension, Marc's "mean bc I care" moment... MISS YOU ARE FIRING ON ALL CYLINDERS 👏🏼👏🏼

JAKE'S INTRODUCTION!!! It was so intruiging bc you captured so much complexity! He is mysterious and she doesn't know him but still, like he says, she gets to the heart of him so quickly and intuitively! He got a third fish!!! HIM BRINGING HER FLOWERS WHEN SHE QUIT AND BEING KINDA HURT WHEN SHE IS A BIT COLD TO HIM?? But then they share a genuine moment... AND THEN JAKE BRINGING FLOWERS BECOMES A REGULAR THING AND HE REALLY DOES HURT THE DIRECTOR. But she still doubts his intentions and his flirting and his Spanish endearments bc Steven and Marc don't know about him and it breaks his heart over and over???!!! Becca be soooo for real rn am I supposed to be normal about this fic?? I am not. I never will be. I categorically refuse to be.

But THEN. But then but then but then but THEN. Jake has to grapple with his anger that she doesn't even seem to like him when he is totally in love with her, he has to sacrifice being hidden from his alters for her sake AND HE DOES IT. He explains to his alters and accepts Marc's anger and rearranges the flat and notices her depression he helps and he finally gets to see that she feels the same!!! The ending where Jake says the whole system feels complete now??!!! NO i am NOT crying there is just perfect-fic-shaped dust in my EYES and what ABOUT IT

In conclusion Moon Struck was engineered to make me a weak, soft puddle of a woman who just wants to sit on the floor with a warm cup of tea and think about this beautiful creation of yours. Call this fic a Taylor Swift song the way it never goes out of style.

The pixel Texan's charms know no bounds 😔✊ Also, please never apologize for not being around for awhile! I appreciate anything you send me and I'm sorry it takes ME so long to respond to such kind and thoughtful messages 💕 I know I still have at least two other asks from you to answer.

I'm really glad you liked the concluding part to the Moon Struck series so much! I think, for me, that "cares so much it makes them sick" thing is what characterizes so much of Marc's actions and personality. He doesn't really know any other way to go about it. He's wearing his heart all over his sleeve so much of the time and yet he's still not heard, and yeah, a lot of it is in the name of protection, for better or for worse.

Also, I'm so glad you feel I get Marc, Steven, and Jake's voices right! Jake is really left up to interpretation at this point, which I was a little worried about since we have so little to go on from the series and I haven't gotten around to reading any of the comics.

One of the many reasons I love reading your fics couldn't be that I see myself reflected in the people you write and it makes me feel like maybe I could be that happy too.

This made me just a tiny bit emotional. I'm really glad you can see yourself reflected in these characters. There's a lot of me in there, too.

how romantic and thoughtful and protective he is, the way he has been making an effort learn her in return and get better at communicating

I think that's what love really is so much of the time. It's just trying. It's finding ways to say I love you and I see you.

The way the date got to be what Marc was hoping it would be in the beginning?? THE FACT THAT HE SAID HE WOULDN'T BUT STILL LET HER WIN, the way she thiught he was rejecting her touch for a sec but he was just collecting himself and listening to Steven for a sec

AHHHHHH I'm really glad you liked their little date!! I loved getting to write it and I wanted it to be a little contrast to the kinds of dates Steven would take the reader on, and how they view romance differently but love the same.

But she still doubts his intentions and his flirting and his Spanish endearments bc Steven and Marc don't know about him and it breaks his heart over and over???!!!

He he. And again I wanted to show that Steven and Marc are also distinct in their romance styles to Jake. But he feels just as much, and wants just as badly.

Thank you again for these lovely asks. I'm so so so glad you enjoy these fics so much. Moon Struck was and still is really important to me for a lot of different reasons so I'm glad its important to other people too 💕

[comet160]

Shoutout to my grandma for sending me moths she finds in her yard

[settingtrends]

.

[nationalharryleague]

Work of Art

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: AU, Artist!Harry, fluff, angst if you squint

Word count: 4K

A/N: Hi everyone! This is my entry for @hsogolden​ ’s AU writing challenge! Check out their blog they are incredibly talented!!! ALSO, a MASSIVE thank you and shoutout to the lovely Miss Lu, @harrysgucciloafers​!!! I could have never done it without her!! Thank you so much for reading and remember, feedback is so so so appreciated!!! You can also send requests to my ask anytime!! I hope you enjoy :) More of my writing can be found in my masterlist :) 

***

Sleep was fleeting and you remained staring at your popcorn ceiling in your shitty apartment for longer than you would have liked. It was later than you would have liked when your phone buzzed and lit up the ceiling of your bedroom. Knowing sleep was still far off, you rolled over and examined the text from an unknown number, the bright screen blinding you in the process.

Hi, I was thinking of you today. I thought I would show you this piece that I made of you. Hope you’re doing well. Hx, attached was a slightly blurry photo of a beautiful painting of a woman.

The woman in the painting was made up of beautiful bright colors, her skin a mix of green, blue, and purple tones. Her eyes were a bright and captivating cerulean, standing out behind wide framed glasses, and she wore an intriguing and knowing smirk on her lips. Her hair fell down in blunt bangs over her forehead and framed her heart shaped face. She was young, looking to be only a little bit older than you.

The painting was captivating. It was crafted with such bright tones, using color blocking that blended the abstract with some elements of realism. It felt like someone poured all of their emotion and adoration or hurt (you couldn’t decide which) into it. You couldn’t decide if the artist loved or hated this figure staring back at you. One thing you knew was that whoever texted you was incredibly talented and had obviously dedicated so much time to this piece. You felt awful that it hadn’t reached its intended destination.

Um… Wrong number, you typed out, feeling a pang of sympathy for whoever ‘H’ was.

Oh… okay. Sorry to bother you., your phone screen lit up again.

Your art is beautiful, you quickly sent back, attempting to offer some sort of consolation to the mystery artist. Sorry I’m not who you wanted to talk to.

Don’t worry about it. Just looking for someone from a lifetime ago.

That last part kept you up for most of the night. You couldn’t stop thinking about what that could mean. Old friend? Estranged relative? Another artist? You let your mind dream up Oscar-worthy scenarios until you finally fell asleep.

***

“Please come to Scott’s art show with me,” Grace whined from across the table at your favorite coffee shop. Grace was your best friend from college and hadn’t figured out to get rid of you yet.

“You know how I feel about your shitty boyfriend and his shitty art,” you fired back. Scott was a pretentious “artist” who made “ironic” misogynistic sculptures and frequently “forgot” to pay Grace back for his share of rent. You hated his guts.

“I promise I’m going to break up with him soon. I just need to get to the end of the month so I get my money’s worth for rent,” she assured you. “By the way, I’m going to need some help moving out at the end of the month,” she mentioned nonchalantly. You let out a chuckle at her and playfully rolled your eyes.

“I will go to the show with you on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“You’ll hold my hand.”

A few hours later you walked into the modern and cold art show space, holding onto Grace’s hand for dear life, feeling unwelcome in this environment. Grace blended in easily, her bright blue hair and arms of tattoos suiting her well.  The edgiest thing you had ever done was getting your nose pierced… until your grandma threw a fit and your mom made you take it out. You were not an artist and you did not feel welcome in the art community, or at least the type of artists that hang out with Scott. You worked in an office, you dressed plainly and simply, and you didn’t think there was anything special about yourself. You were strikingly ordinary, a sharp contrast from most other people in the gallery. You felt like an outsider because you were one.

Walking around the gallery, you hung onto Grace while examining and appreciating the artwork. You took careful steps, as if to not take attention away from the paintings on the walls and spent time examining each piece as you moved through the room. As you moved from wall to wall, your eyes fell on a strikingly familiar painting. The same girl with the bright blue eyes and the bangs stared back at you, the devilish smirk still playing upon her lips like she knew you had met before.

Releasing Grace’s hand, you all but ran up to the painting in question, trying to take in all the details that didn’t translate over the slightly grainy photo on your phone. The painting took on a life of its own up close. The paint itself was layered thick and thin across the canvas creating a rough texture that made the girl come alive. You were half waiting for her to make eye contact with her captivating baby blues and start staring back at you. You felt like you could reach inside the canvas and hold the beautiful woman’s face in your hands.

“Do you like it?” a deep British voice asked after clearing their throat behind you.

“Oh, it’s so beautiful,” you murmured, still staring at the green and purple woman. It took you a moment to rip yourself away from her piercing eyes and look towards the voice, only to turn around and find an even more captivating set.

They were bright green and belonged to a tall, dark haired man that was breathtaking. He had chocolate brown curls that seemed to be sticking in every direction, like a purposefully perfect bedhead, and stubble that moved up his jaw and down his neck. He had plushy pink lips framing his bright smile and his two front teeth came down the tiniest bit too far. He was wearing a white tshirt that was painted to his fit body as it was a size too small for him, showing off his arms of tattoos, and a pair of orange corduroy flares. His ensemble was topped off with a pearl necklace. He arched a brow when your mouth hung open slightly, trying to take all of him in.

“The painting is gorgeous,” you eventually were able to spit out. “I feel like I know her.”

“I’m glad that I was able to create something so captivating,” he smiled at you. So he was the one that painted it, meaning he was the one who had texted it to you. After getting over the initial shock, you gave yourself an internal high five for having this guy’s number. “Harry,” he introduced himself, reaching out a perfectly manicured hand to shake yours. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m Y/N,” you smiled back, debating if you should tell him that you had kind of met before. It felt creepy to tell him, like you were some sort of voyer on an intimate part of his life. “I love her. Can you tell me a little bit more about it?” you asked. You had to figure out if it was worth being creepy about.

“So did I,” he said with a light chuckle. “She’s someone that I used to know,” he elaborated looking over your shoulder, surely making eye contact with the woman. Maybe you were reading into it too closely, but you thought a flash of hurt passed across his features.

“Do you always paint mysterious people from your past?” you teased, wanting to break the slightly awkward silence and also willing to do anything to talk to him further.

“Actually, I’m mainly a landscape painter,” he smiled at the ground, hands shoved deep in his pockets. Looking back at Harry’s wall of paintings you realized that the girl was the only person on the wall, flanked by beautiful landscape paintings depicting all different areas of the world. You quickly picked your favorite, a monochromatic green scene of the Eiffel tower.

After you asked if he traveled a lot to paint, the conversation began to flow. You strolled around the mainly empty studio space, footsteps falling in sync, him teaching you about his paintings and you asking questions, desperate to learn anything you could from him and just wanting to hear that beautiful accent. You learned he grew up in Cheshire and moved to New York for school and never left, but he travelled to Europe often to see his family and to paint. He told you about how his ultimate goals in life were to have one of his pieces in the Museum of Modern Art and to find his soulmate. He was a hopeless yet hopeful romantic. He also had two cats, Evie and Stevie (the latter was obviously named after Stevie Nicks).

He was so beautiful. He had this magical twinkle in his eye that you just couldn’t get over. He looked like he was one of the sculptors’ in the room’s life work. He was just as much of a piece of art as anything on display in the studio.

When the crowd started to thin, Grace came and found you, still rolling her eyes from something stupid Scott had said, him trailing not far behind. “Hi my love,” she greeted you, kissing your cheek casually as always. “We were getting ready to head out but I can see you’ve made a friend.”

“Harry is the artist behind all these amazing paintings,” gesturing to the long wall displaying his artwork. “This is my best friend Grace,” you said, turning back to him. “And that’s her soon to be ex-boyfriend, Scott,” you laughed and pointed to him staring at a blank white canvas in the corner that was obviously not part of the exhibition.

“Wait,” he began, shaking his head and laughing, pointing accusingly between the two of you. “You two aren’t together?”

“What? No!”

“It’s just that you were holding hands for a while when you came in and then she called you ‘love,’ and then kissed your cheek,” he continued laughing, his cheeks a bright red. It was adorable. You felt your cheeks heat up just as bright red as his.

“Oh my god, no.” You broke out into a fit of giggles of your own.

“Well, in that case, would you like to grab a drink or something sometime?”

***

You decided to order a martini when you got to the bar the next night. You thought it would make you look fancy and you hoped it would impress your worldly date. You had put on your favorite red dress (the one that hugged you in all the right spots and hid the wrong ones), praying he would dress up like you did, and slid carefully onto the barstool. Bouncing your knee nervously, you sipped your drink slowly until you saw his well dressed figure enter the bar, making your heart skip a beat.

He was dressed in high-waisted wide-legged tan pants and a bright red cardigan printed with small white hearts that was held together in the front by a single button, leaving his chest and signature pearl necklace on display. His chest tattoos were now slightly visible, the faces of two swallows looking back at you, as well as what you thought might be some sort of antennae peeking up from his stomach. He also wore an award winning smile and shot you a wink when he spotted you from the entrance of the bar. Once again, he took your breath away.

“Hello darling,” he greeted you as he made his way over. You began to panic when he started leaning into you, relieved when his lips found their way to your cheek and quickly moved to the other. When he kissed your cheeks, it sent sparks through your body. Oh my god, he is so British, you squealed inside your head, unable to suppress your American excitement. “I like your color choice,” he smirked looking between your outfits of almost the exact same red. You could only hope your cheeks didn’t match as well.

“Great minds dress alike,” you remarked, earning a laugh from the gorgeous man in front of you. Turns out, your joke was enough to break the ice. Soon the conversation began to flow freely, without anxiety or trepidation, like you were a pair of souls reunited after lifetimes apart. You were two martinis in when you decided to break the news that the art gallery was not the first time you had spoken.

“I think I have to break something to you,” you giggled, everything seeming a little funny after a few drinks, “the art show was not the first time we met.” His eyebrows knit together in slight confusion so you decided to elaborate. “The night before the show you sent a picture of that painting to a wrong number, and that wrong number was me. I promise it was all a coincidence and I am not stalking you.” You held your breath while you waited a moment with bated breath for a reaction from him, but released the stress that had found its way into your shoulders when his smile returned to his lips.

“I knew you had more interest in Amelia than most people,” he chuckled. Amelia, you repeated to yourself, now having a name for the face of your mystery woman.

“When Grace dragged me to that studio and I saw her again, I just had to know more. But then I met you and got a little distracted,” you flirted, “accidentally” nudging his leg with the point of your stiletto.

“I’m glad I’m just a distraction to you,” he feigned offense, clutching his pearl necklace with the hand that wasn’t hanging onto his neat tequila.

“Meeting you tonight was actually just an elaborate ruse to learn more about your Amelia,” you sarcastically confessed, sending him back one of the winks he had been shooting you all night. Your wink wasn’t met with his typical laugh, but a slightly pained smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You worried you had hit a nerve.

“She’s not my Amelia anymore. Actually, I don’t think she ever was,” he spoke gently, taking a sip of his drink and breaking eye contact for what felt like the first time tonight. Oh no oh no oh no, you began to panic in your head. What did this woman do to him?  

“I once had an ex tell me they had cancer so I wouldn’t break up with them,” you offered, forcing a laugh and praying you could brighten up his mood again. Thankfully, it worked, bringing back the crinkles by his eyes that appeared whenever he smiled or laughed.

You breathed a sigh of relief when the rest of the night went smoothly. It was better than smooth actually, it felt easy and exciting. Harry made your heart sing and your stomach flutter. He was a perfect gentleman, walking you all the way home (even when he lived on the other side of the city) and even up to your apartment, insisting he needed to make sure you made it inside safe.

The pair of you were standing in front of your front door when he leaned in and pressed his blushed lips to yours. He tasted like the lime that sat on the rim of his drunk and smelled like shampoo and vanilla. Every hair on your body stood up on point and everywhere he touched you felt like your skin lit on fire; you never wanted this moment to end. He gently held your face and you could feel his lips turn into a smile as he pulled away, his beautiful green eyes meeting yours once again.

“I had a really good time tonight,” he breathed, unable to wipe the smile off his face.

“I think we should do this again,” you said, still catching the breath that he took away.

“I promise you’ll be hearing from me soon. I already have your number,” he chuckled, still beaming. You watched as he walked down the hallway away from you, winking and blowing you a kiss before turning the corner. As soon as you entered the apartment, you slid down your front door, dizzy from the haze he had created in your head. You couldn’t wait to see him again.

***

After that night, you couldn’t believe someone like him kept coming back to someone like you. You insisted you were too boring for someone who had such an incredible personality and background. Yet three months later, he was yours and you were his.

You spent almost all your nights together, crammed into one of your small New York City apartments, wrapped in each other’s arms and hypothetically solving the world’s problems. You had learned in this time that Harry was incredibly intelligent and well spoken, no matter how long it took him to get his words out due to his slow cadence. In your conversations, you had come to the agreement that most of the world’s problems could be solved with a little empathy and that green was definitely the best color.

Tonight you laid naked in his bed, your head resting just above your favorite butterfly, and played with his fingers as you listened to him speak about postmodernism and how it rocked the art world. You didn’t understand a thing he was going on about but you loved to hear him speak, his voice vibrating through his chest and how he pulled on his bottom lip when he was thinking. You scanned the studio apartment from his bed, trying to pay attention but losing that battle. The floor was littered with finished and unfinished paintings leaning up against the walls and you noticed one familiar face you had grown fond of was missing.

“Where did your painting of Amelia go?” you asked when he took a second to breathe during his diatribe.

“I sold it,” he said curtly.  You hadn’t talked much more about Amelia after that first night, the woman obviously being a sore spot, but you couldn’t help but wonder what happened.

“Oh, okay. I liked that painting a lot,” you spoke cautiously, trying not to hit whatever nerve you had previously.

“It was nice, but I think she should haunt someone else now,” he said with a sigh. Haunt?, you thought to yourself.

“H,” you began, rolling yourself off him to look him in the eye, “can I ask what happened with her?” You held your breath, afraid you might lose him to the heartbreak again.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s long gone.”

“Harry,” you lightly scolded him by using his full name which you rarely did, thinking back to when you agreed not to keep anything for each other. With a sigh, he began to speak.

“I was with her for a couple months last year and when I look back at it, it was really messy. We fought all the time and kept a lot from each other. But I had my rose colored glasses on and I would go as far as saying I was probably in love with her. I was even looking for engagement rings.” You felt a pang of jealousy within you at the idea of Harry loving anyone else. “That was until I found out that she already had a husband.”

Your heart broke for him after your initial shock, resting your hand on his warm cheek in an attempt to soothe him. He didn’t seem sad recounting the story or at the mention of her like he was before; he was now dealing with the remaining hurt of rejection.

“I painted her while I was still really mad,” he continued. “My original plan was to send it to her husband and tell him what had happened. But I decided that three lives didn’t need to be ruined instead of one. And then I was just kinda stuck with the painting. I thought selling it was a good way to get her out of my life and it’s more productive than lighting it on fire,” he finally said with a light chuckle.

A lot made sense all of a sudden. You now understood why Harry always got a little jealous when he saw other guys looking at you. He would loop an arm around your waist and press a kiss to your cheek while he stared them down. He thought you didn’t notice but you always did. You also understood why he was so open with you about how much he cared about you. It was a good thing you were equally as obsessed with him.

“I’m sorry, H. You didn’t deserve to go through all of that,” you said softly after a moment, unsure of what else you could offer.

“It’s okay. We grow from our past,” he shrugged. “And if I hadn’t painted her, I wouldn’t have found you,” he smiled sweetly, pulling you back into him and pressing his lips onto yours.

***

“Oh my goodness, what are you doing?” you giggled when Harry asked you to close your eyes.

“I have something to show you. Please close your eyes,” he asked again.

“What if I don’t want to close my eyes?” you teased, poking the dimple in his cheek caused by his cheeky grin. He rolled his eyes and began his plea again.

“Close your eyes, please. Do it.”

You gave in this time, closing your eyes and letting your heart flutter in anticipation. Harry knew you loved surprises and often took advantage of that fact. You felt him gently rest his cupped hands over your eyes, obviously not trusting you to not peak (he probably shouldn’t). He pressed himself to your back, urging you to make your way further into his apartment.

“Styles, if you let me walk into something, I swear to god,” you continued your giggling, overcome with excitement. Harry mumbled an ‘Oh, hush,’ in your ear before he stopped you both and lifted his hands away.

Your breath caught in your throat as you took it in. The painting was in Harry’s signature style, layered bright colors and varied textures across the canvas. Staring back was your own face, painted in a bright red monochrome with the exception of the color of your eyes that remained the same. You were posed with a bright smile that crinkled the skin by your eyes and you were wearing the red dress that you had worn that first night at the bar.

“Harry, oh my god. It’s so beautiful,” you managed to get out, still in shock.

“I know you don’t think you are, but are the most extraordinary person I’ve ever met. I wouldn’t want anyone else in the world to be my muse.” You felt as if you could explode or melt with the amount of love you had for this man. You held him up on such a pedestal, and now you knew he did the same for you. “From the moment I saw you, I thought you were a work of art. So, I thought I’d actually make you into one.”

Your cheeks burned from the smile you couldn’t shake if you wanted to and you felt yourself get a little teary eyed. You felt as if you had spent the majority of your life thinking you were nothing special and just another person walking down the street. Harry made you feel like you were the center of the universe. You wanted to love yourself like Harry loved you; like you loved him.

“I love you,” you blurted, small tears rolling down your face, wiped away by Harry’s talented hands.

“I love you too,” he murmured softly, pulling your body to his. “I’ll always have your face hung up high in my gallery.”

There she is!! I hope you enjoyed it!! You can let me know what you think here!! :) 

[kuroororo]

birthday special (t. kuroo x reader)

~~~

there wasn’t much that made you excited. save for the occasional premieres of new anime and the bubbly feeling you’d get at the end of every semester, there was hardly a time you were ever excited for things to come. perhaps it had to do with your loneliness. events are only memorable if you have someone to share it with, right? maybe it’s because you didn’t have someone to be excited with that made you less than numb on days like today.

like your birthday for example.

for the past couple of years, you’ve spent your birthday alone. before that, you had your grandma of course, who made you favorite cake by hand every year until her death. you never realized how many people you DIDNT have in your life until she was gone. now, you celebrate your birthday with a day old cupcake and the same candle you’ve been using for the past two years.

this year wouldn’t be any different. you’d think that with Kuroo now in your life you’d have at least somebody to celebrate your birthday with. instead, nekoma had a practice game with nohebi and he reaaaaaaally couldn’t miss this one. he offered to let you tag along, to which you declined saying you had some test to study for and you really couldn’t skip out on studying or you’d fail the class. kuroo only shrugged it off.

“alright, whatever you say.”

and then it was just you. again.

you couldn’t blame him for not knowing. you guys had only started dating recently and you never came across the topic of birthdays before. besides, it’s not like you would have told him anyways. your birthday wasn’t important then and it isn’t important now. so why did you feel a strong pain in your chest.

even before you started dating, you’ve always put effort into his team. whether it be yaku’s birthday or kenmas volleyball-aversery, you did your best to help make them feel special. gifts, balloons, at least a special shoutout on chatsnap, you did what you could to brighten up their day. because, that’s what friends do, right?

well, maybe they weren’t your friends. yet, at least. you only started hanging around tetsurou months prior, his friends joining you both along the way. at first you were only being cordial, them only having a connection to you via kuroo, who you could hardly call a friend at the time. but as the months passed, you felt as if you were part of the warm, deep bond that was his team.

Maybe you were jumping the gun. maybe you guys weren’t really friends, only acquaintances. makes sense— maybe you imagined your friendship with them all along. the moment kuroo came out of the picture, you would be back to strangers. that’s how all your past “friendships” ended like. once faces you tried to brighten turn to blank canvases, like you’ve never touched them before with the colors of your palette. like you’ve never bought them gifts, set up balloons, made them cake. the whole nine hundred. maybe kuroos and his friends will end up the same way.

it was nearing midnight, the days drawing to a close. as per usual, none of the people you’ve put so much effort in even thought to send you a birthday text. typical. you only sighed and lit up the used candle in front of you, readying you birthday cupcake to finish the night.

“happy birthday to me”

your voice cracked. it’s never done that before.

“happy birthday to me”

you felt warm droplets slip down your face. perhaps there was a leak in the roof?

“happy birthday dear (y/n)...”

you paused for dramatic effect but ended up hiccuping on your own breath. when you looked at the clock, it read 11:58. two minutes until your birthday was over.

“happy birthday to me”

and you blew out your candle.

~~~

a knock on the door. this late at night? then loud banging.

“what the...” usually, opening your front door at 11:59 pm at night would seem like a bad idea. but you were in such a hysterical state you couldn’t be bothered with logic and fear. so you got up, braced yourself for the worst, and swung the door open.

"SURPRISE!”

all of nekoma’s volleyball team stood outside your door. balloons, gifts, a piñata, they all had something to carry. and in the middle, tetsurou stood holding out a terribly decorated birthday cake with the words “HAPPY BIRTHDAY Y/N” in shaky frosting.

you could only blink. “...guys?”

“happy birthday y/n!” your boyfriend sang proudly. “you didn’t think we’d actually forget.”

“he did forget.” quipped kenma. he had a cat plushy with a birthday themed bow in his hands. “i had to be the one to reminded him.”

“nooooo” tetsurou denied. you only giggled. you weren’t mad at him. not at all. you were just surprised the whole team pitched in to help.

yaku, who was wrangling the balloons, chimed in. “either way, we’re here now y/n. why don’t you sit down and relax while we set up.”

as you were about to deny they work so hard, tetsurou silenced you with a kiss to the cheek and pushed his way in. and who were you to deny the whole team.

balloons, streamers, banners and homemade posters littered your walls and you couldn’t be more grateful. and every member of the team had something to give you as a gift. yamamoto got you hair ties, fukunaga gave you a book full of knock knock jokes, kenma gave you the cat plushy— you were thankful for it all.

finally, tetsurou presented to you his homemade birthday cake lit with candles.

the fire cast a glow onto his face. “i’m sorry we were so late.”

you smiled at him, a light water in your eyes. “you guys are here now, so.”

everyone gathered around you both while inuoka turned off the lights.

“happy birthday to you”

levs pitch was off.

“happy birthday to you”

yamamoto was a little too loud.

“happy birthday dear y/n”

kai was undoubtedly the best singer of them all.

“happy birthday to you!”

you blew out the candles.

as the boys cheered in the dark, tetsurou leaned over to give you a kiss.

“happy birthday, my love.”

~~~~~

optional:

before he smashed your face into the cake. and licked it off in private

[antisocialxconstruct]

so this is really happening I guess

[cg29]

Mainly screenshots :D Had to remove some so I can post...

I posted 3,172 times in 2021

284 posts created (9%)

2888 posts reblogged (91%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 10.2 posts.

I added 7,023 tags in 2021

#thunderbirds are go - 1818 posts

#thunderbirds - 1092 posts

#virgil tracy - 994 posts

#scott tracy - 624 posts

#gordon tracy - 534 posts

#thunderfam - 513 posts

#thunderbirds fanfiction - 498 posts

#thunderbirds 2015 - 336 posts

#alan tracy - 308 posts

#john tracy - 306 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#i love tumblr but lately it’s been hiding my posts from the feed and unless i physically click onto a mutuals page i will miss stuff

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Best Grandma 💜

80 notes • Posted 2021-01-29 22:25:16 GMT

#4

The Long Reach Part 2 aired a year ago today...

And was therefore the last time we saw these adorable faces...

I am not okay with that! 😭

💙💚🧡💛❤️

89 notes • Posted 2021-02-22 10:38:17 GMT

#3

Thunderfam Roll-call 👋

Hello you beautiful lot - Noticed a few have not been appearing on my feed lately. Not sure if it’s Tumblr hiding stuff from me again or you’re spending less time on here. So thought: ‘Hey, why not do a Thunderfam shoutout and see how everyones doing!’

Big Tracy hugs to you all 🤗 🥰

95 notes • Posted 2021-09-26 15:13:44 GMT

#2

STOP POSTING VIRGIL!

Wait... Do you mean this Virgil

Or this one...

Exhausted Virg, Virg in danger or injured Virg...

Then there’s shy Virgil...

And wrapped up warm Virg...

Mmm 🤔 All of them are loveable, oh and if you’ve not yet worked it out Anon the answers No! No, I will not stop posting anything containing this wonderful guy.

If you don’t like it then you know where the unfollow button is!

99 notes • Posted 2021-02-26 20:00:16 GMT

#1

Last night I visited insomnia city. As I was lying awake I began contemplating the amount of fluffy prompt vs whump lists. Now, I adore fics where my favourite characters get hurt and then (sometimes) fixed at the end. However, lately I’ve been needing the comfort more. I began considering what I could do to inspire my own and others output of fluff which inevitably led me to the conclusion: ‘why not create my own list.’ So, I did, and here it is now for anyone to use…

... ...

Bring on the Fluff

100 prompts for fanfiction, your own stories and any style of art.

Prompts are for fluff, comfort, humorous, romantic, comedic, and any other aww moments. Hurt can feature but should  only be used to aid the soothing comfort.

Prompts can be mixed together or used on their own.

Stories can be of any length.

The list can be used for your followers to send you requests, or if you prefer to work through at your own pace. (I will, very slowly, be doing the second option)

Enjoy 😊

1. Angel 2. Anniversary 3. Art 4. Back Rubs 5. Beach 6. Bedtime 7. Birthday 8. Blind Date 9. Bonfire 10. Breakfast in Bed 11. Brother 12. Cake 13. Camping Trip 14. Carnival 15. Cherished Memory 16. Cherished Item 17. Chocolate 18. Cottage 19. Coffee 20. Cookies 21. Countryside 22. Cuddles 23. Dad 24. Date Night 25. Dinner for Two 26. Drunken Conversations 27. Enchanted 28. Engagement 29. Family 30. Fireplace 31. Fireworks 32. First Dance 33. First Date 34. First Kiss 35. First Steps 36. Floor is Lava 37. Flowers 38. Forest 39. Game Night 40. Gift 41. Grandma 42. Grandpa 43. Handmade 44. Holidays 45. Holding Hands 46. Home 47. Horse Riding 48. Ice cream 49. Island 50. Journal 51. Jukebox 52. Kaleidoscope 53. Karaoke Night 54. Lake 55. Moonlight 56. Mother 57. Mountain View 58. Movie Night 59. Music 60. Napping 61. Nature 62. Ocean 63. Oneness 64. Painting 65. Pet 66. Picnic 67. Pillow Fight 68. Pillow Fort 69. Playing Twister 70. Playground 71. Portrait 72. Prom 73. Quilt 74. Quiz Night 75. Radiant 76. Reunion 77. Road Trip 78. Sand 79. Secret 80. Sharing Clothes 81. Sharing a Blanket 82. Sharing an Umbrella 83. Sister 84. Snowman 85. Stars 86. Summer 87. Sun 88. Swapping Beds 89. Swimming Pool 90. Talent 91. Telescope 92. Truth or Dare 93. Universe 94. Valentines 95. Victory 96. Whisper 97. Wingman 98. Wish 99. Yawning 100. Zoo

129 notes • Posted 2021-03-04 15:51:12 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[keijikunn]

All Of Your Soul

Part of the @babythotshq mini collab!! You can check the other parts here!

Pairing: demon!Tsukishima Kei x gender neutral!reader Genre: angst, crack if you squint for like 2 seconds  Summary: Your superstitious grandmother always told you not to get involved with demons, but how could you not when Tsukishima Kei, the one you’ve summoned, was so alluring? Word count: ~3.4k

Author’s note: Happy Halloween!! I hope you enjoy this piece, and a massive shoutout to @hidden-otaku-stuff  @kaitycole  and of course @babythotshq who helped me out during the process of writing this fic! Love you all mwah mwah 💞

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, minor and major character death, yandere!tsukki, mentions of violence, mention of sex, swearing

Ever since you were a kid, your grandmother warned you about the evil creatures that cohabited the world you lived in. She was often called crazy because of it - after all, she was an old lady talking non-stop about demons. However, that topic amazed you rather than giving you chills down your spine. Your curiosity grew progressively as she told you the same thing over and over: “Don’t mess up with them, or else they’ll take your soul away”.

You always thought grandma told you those stories just to scare you off, to make sure you would stay in line. But the way you’d laugh it off at the age of 7 almost like daring the threat hinted your disbelief. 

"The entire hell can come get me, they won't be able to touch me!" you once told your grandmother, which earned you a scoff and a flick on your forehead. 

"Oh, Y/N" she cooed, almost in pity, patting your head. "You will regret it when you're older," 

And once again, you laughed at her. 

It became part of your childhood, long forgotten as the years passed by and the concept of believing in demons appeared to be silly. Your memory permanently buried it in the depths of your mind after your dear grandmother passed away, leaving this world with her tales from underworld creatures.

A long time since she passed,, you remembered the spooky way the old woman would tell you different myths when you were packing your belongings to leave for college. The old box stuffed inside the attic filled with dusty and thick books lit a lamp in your head, concluding your grandma used to tell you those stories. 

Not only did she have short terrifying ones, your grandma seemed to be way more superstitious than just believing in simple tales. Some of them had different symbols, with many side notes written - assumably - by your late relative. The barely readable handwritten overlapped one another, all information mixing into a big mess that you could hardly understand. 

“Granny was really into it, huh?” 

It wouldn’t hurt reading them - after all, it would be for the sake of your childhood. 

And just like you found yourself drawing strange patterns inside a circle on the floor of your bedroom with chalk, it hardly appeared but you didn’t mind. It’s just some made up stories, you thought, proceeding to let an airy laugh just thinking about your grandmother tossing and turning in her coffin. Your disbelief in these surely came from your young age. After that, all you needed to do was a single drop of your blood and say some weird phrases. 

“If it doesn’t work, it’s because of these freaking sentences,” you muttered, pricking your finger with a needle. As the red liquid fell on the center of the circle you drew, the difficult words slipped out of your lips.

A few minutes passed by after you finished the ritual and the bedroom was engulfed in silence. How you wished you could talk to your grandmother right now, just to rub it in her face that she was wrong - even though you had a mess to clean. Tossing the old book aside, you laughed at the situation you had put yourself in and undid a part of the draw. 

“You know, ever since you were a kid your sassy attitude got me on my nerves,” a second voice echoed, a male one. 

You have never turned your head so quickly in your life, looking for the person who just spoke to you. A tall, blonde guy stood on the other side of the circle; the black dress shirt had the first three buttons undone matching with the black slacks. He was handsome, and you wondered if it was your mind’s work to show you one of the hottest men you’ve ever seen (and imagined) in your life. “It’s rude to stare”

“I must be crazy,” you laughed, rubbing your eyes, when you opened them again, he was still there, with an annoyed look on his features. “Granny must be pranking me, there’s no fucking way I summoned-”

“A demon, actually you just did, haven’t you read the book, dumbass?” he hissed, rolling his eyes. The blonde man crouched to look at the poorly drawn summoning circle and scoffed. “I wonder how you managed to summon me, this shit is terrible, not to mention your Latin”

“Well, I’m sorry if it’s fucking hard to draw it, let alone speaking goddamn Latin!” This guy, this demon was pissing you out, and he had only been in your room for less than five minutes. “Okay, I guess you’re real, my grandma was right, go to hell”

“A lot of people have already told me this joke, and I have to remind every single human that it sucks,” he snapped angrily, before sighing in defeat and looking at you. “What do you want from me?”

“Me, nothing,” you chimed sarcastically. “I was serious when I told you to go to hell, demon.”

“Can you please not call me demon?!”

“So how should I call you? Rex?”

“Jesus, you’re so annoying-”

“I thought demons couldn’t say Jesus’ name, Rex”

“For fucks sake, it’s Tsukishima!” he said louder than he wanted, his voice vibrated inside your body sending chills down your spine. “You’re the worst human that has ever summoned me, and it was just for fun!” 

“Then stop complaining and return to hell, it’s not that hard!” you shot back, just as annoyed as him. A part of yourself, the superstitious one, the same one that had believed for a short while in your grandma, was screaming at yourself for picking up a fight with a demon, but your prideful one wouldn’t let that go easily. 

“I can’t just do it when you fucking used your blood while summoning me!” Tsukishima exclaimed, rolling his eyes. “Don’t you know how to read? It clearly says that blood rituals are strong, they tie your soul to me.”

“You’re telling me you, a demon, can't undo this shit?” you asked, at the sight of the male shaking his head sideways you groan frustrated. "What kind of shitty demons are you?"

"A demon that is way smarter than you, idiot." he mocked angrily.

"What am I going to do with such a pain in the ass?" The question didn't look for a proper answer from him, but either way he grunted in protest. "If I pray to whatever god, will you be repelled?"

"You're really the dumbest human I’ve ever met," Tsukishima stated as he rolled his eyes. "Of course not, what do you think I am? An ordinary demon from a shitty movie?"

"Well-"

"You know what? Don't answer it," he cut you, shaking his hand as if the gesture would shut you off. "Clean this mess, it's giving me chills seeing such a bad job." 

"Use your demon powers to clean it all!"

"I'm not a fucking fairy!"

Tsukishima was just a single demon, but his presence seemed to bring the whole hell to you. His witty and unnecessary comments easily threw you off the edge, and as if he noticed, which he probably did, the man made sure to say at least one provoking statement every single time he opened his mouth.

It wasn’t easy to get used with his presence, especially when Tsukishima made sure to remind you every minute you were awake that “it’s your fault”. 

Yet, the demon did not tell you how to break whatever bond you established with him. You came to the conclusion that his duty whenever he was summoned was to annoy people out. What a useless demon, you thought once, just to hear him screaming profanities and insults inside your head.

You have never imagined that this situation would drag for so long. Tsukishima was there on your first day at college, and he made sure to make you embarrass yourself in front of your class. He was also there to ruin your first date with a cute guy from one of your periods, Inuoka ended the night a bit paranoid about someone following him around.

“I think you told me you weren’t a fairy to do this kind of thing, Tsukki” you commented sarcastically, feeling the anger bubble inside your chest. 

“You heard it right, Y/N,” he answered, throwing himself at your not-so-comfortable sofa, stretching his legs over the coffee table in front of it. “That guy looked like a little boy scared of his own shadow!”

“Why did you do it?!” The question came out more desperate than you wanted it to be. Inuoka wasn’t the first man Tsukishima pulled a stunt on, and by the way your personal demon (as you address him) acts it’s not going to be the last. “He was so nice, he didn’t deserve this childish attitude of yours!”

“Well, he doesn’t have part of your soul like I do,” Tsukishima muttered quietly, but his eyes spoke volumes about his feelings. The possessiveness shone in his golden-brown orbs, a hint of jealous maybe, and you wondered once again if he had feelings like you.

“Tsukishima…” 

All words left your brain as the tall man walked over you, holding your face with his hand. He ran his thumb over your lips and squeezed your cheeks with his grip, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “What are you-”

“You’re mine.” He spoke firmly, not giving a chance to say anything back. “I have a part of me in you and part of your soul is mine. You are mine”

Without a warning, Tsukishima leaned down to smash his lips against yours. His movements were harsh, but it didn’t take too long for you to give in into the heated kiss. Your head was empty, and all you could feel was his mouth on yours and a slender hand travelling inside your shirt. The lack of air in your system made you pull away from the contact, locking eyes with him with a clear question mark above your head. 

“What the hell was that, Tsukki?” The anger vanished, leaving behind confusion and a bit of… desire inside of you. 

“I’m just showing you who you belong to.” 

At that moment you couldn’t see all the red flags on that simple statement. The frustration of many failed dates piled up on your nerves to the point that you were not able to see the meaning behind those words. The mere thought of a man desiring you probably the same way as you did blinded you, and that made you snake your hands around Tsukishima’s neck and bring him down to another feverish kiss.

The rest of the night passed by like a blur, Tsukishima’s touch was hot on your skin - and you enjoyed it. The sane part of your brain didn’t have enough room to question your actions: what on Earth were you doing hooking up with a demon? Were you that desperate to be intimate with someone? As quickly as those thoughts invaded your mind, the man towering over you proceeded to take your focus to himself

You don’t know when you fell asleep, but once you woke up, feeling sore as fuck, you noticed Tsukki lying next to you. His eyes were closed, yet you knew for a fact he wasn’t in a deep slumber-  he didn't need sleep. Nevertheless, you took a few moments to appreciate the view, at the same time flashes of your previous activities together came to you just like a fever dream. 

“You don’t have a brain to think too much, dumbass,” he said without even looking at you, a sly smile graced his face nicely and you wondered if he was, at some point in his life, an actual angel. “Do you know who you belong to?”

“I’m not really sure,” you replied shamelessly. Tsukishima’s eyes opened to look straight at yours, arching his eyebrows at your daring tone. “All I remember is a very annoying demon being a bitch about a guy I was interested in”

Messing with Tsukishima became one of your favourite things, because his immediate response was to pin you on the next hard surface and engage in a messy kiss. Being with him was way different than any other relationship you've had, which weren't many since that demon was on your ass ever since you started college. 

Either way, you loved the push and pull between you two. The constant bickering would eventually turn into a heated make out session, and sometimes even more than that. You completely forgot that the man you were in a sort of relationship (if you could call it that way) was a supernatural creature; your mind chose to bury the important information of who Tsukishima really was: a demon.

His actions started to change after over a month or two since you fucked for the first time. Although the snarky and teasing comments were far from coming to an end, you found yourself curled next to him every night. Tsukishima would hold you before you sleep, even if he had to spend a few hours in the same position (which never lasted long, he learned in the hard way that you toss and turn a lot). 

You also changed around him, much to your surprise. You no longer found other men at college attractive; your Friday nights were spent on your couch with Tsukishima next to you, with a random movie on the TV while the two of you kiss. He was your getaway when things got too rough for you, with his hot touches and endless desire. 

Maybe it was the attention Tsukishima gave you, or perhaps that he has been with you for so long, but he managed to win your heart completely. Every time the blonde demon hissed “you’re mine”, how he always satiates your desires and even the awkward moments when he tries to cuddle you. Every little thing this man does pull the strings attached to your heart and mind. 

And you knew Tsukishima noticed your change of demeanor as well, how you got clingier as the months passed by, the soft tone on your voice and the lack of sarcastic responses to his mean comments. You were falling in love with him, and it was the most obvious thing Tsukki has ever witnessed during his whole life dealing with humans.

“I think I love you, Tsukki” you managed to say, your body trembled due to the intense pleasure the man above you just provided. His eyes were unreadable as he looked down at you, but you could dare to say there was a hint of fondness swimming in them. “I never thought it would be possible to fall in love with in all creatures, a demon”

“Yeah?” he caressed your cheek, tracing down to your neckline and pressing on the reddish marks on your skin. “And you were the almighty kid who didn’t believe in demons”

“A pretty annoying demon changed my mind, I have to add” the smile on your face was small, but held so much meaning. However, Tsukishima didn’t mirror your feelings, displaying a rather sadistic one instead. “And you, have you changed your mind about humans?”

“Who knows?” Tsukishima asked rhetorically, letting his body fall next to yours on the bed. "You're the most… interesting human I've met." 

You laughed at his comment, pressing your face against his side in a loving manner. The fact that Tsukishima stood still instead of responding to the display of affection went unnoticed by you; he was being himself, you tried to justify his stiffness. 

Your relationship with him was just like that: you being overly affectionate and Tsukishima… being himself, the hard to approach demon with beautiful looks and with a magnetic aura. You fell easily for him, like getting used to a new daily routine. In a matter of time you found yourself being more vocal about your quick paced heart, the butterflies flying inside your stomach and even the high pitched tone of your voice whenever you couldn't retort one of his comments. 

The man, on the other hand, didn’t follow this demeanor - in fact, Tsukishima started to act the opposite way. He would avoid your touches like the plague, leaving your apartment late at night and returning near the afternoon with purple marks on his neck and collarbones. Something inside you, jealousy, lit up like setting something on fire: wild, uncontrolled and destructive. Once it starts burning, it won’t stop easily. 

“Can’t you stop fucking other people around?!” You screamed at him, not caring if the clock on the wall just hit three in the morning. “Am I not enough for you?”

“Stop making a case out of it, Y/N” Tsukishima rolled his eyes trying to pass through you, only to be blocked by your body. “Jesus, why are you being so jealous?! We have nothing between us”

“I am fucking in love with you, dumbass!” Your high pitched voice was followed by a dead silence. Tsukishima stared at you blankly while you took deep breaths in order to calm yourself, but the adrenaline of your confession didn’t help you stay quiet. “I’ve been head over heels for you for the longest time and you proceeded to hook up with other people every night… Am I that easy for you? I love you with all my heart, a part of my soul is yours- why can’t you do the same?”

All you could hear at first was your erratic breathing pattern, then the room was filled with his laugh. He was laughing as if someone had just told him the funniest joke he ever heard, the way his torso bent forward to accompany sick amusement creeped you out. Tsukishima pretended to wipe a tear and smiled at you. 

“Oh, Y/N… You’re definitely something else, huh?” He said rhetorically, stretching his arm so his hand could cup your face. You stood still, suddenly unsure about his actions and words. Tsukishima has never used such a cold and psychotic tone with you, let alone that sadistic smirk hiding so many feelings. “So you finally accepted that you’re mine, right?”

“H-How can I be yours if you don’t give yourself to me, as well?” Never in your life have you felt so terrified, something in Tsukishima’s demeanor screamed that he wasn’t joking around. He was about to do something bad, and it would be against you. “Isn’t my love enough for you?”

“Well, to be honest? It’s almost enough” he agreed, his index finger traced down your cheeks, following down your neck until it pointed directly to the left side of your chest, above your beating heart. “So, shall I claim what is mine?”

The time seemed to be slowed down, your heartbeats were loud in your ears and your limbs were numb - you couldn’t move them at all. Regardless, it would be impossible for you, a mere human, to stop Tsukishima from slamming his hand against your chest. You didn’t feel physical pain, but the sensation of something, someone wrapping slender fingers around your inner self made you scream. 

“Tsukishima, w-what are you doing?” Your trembling voice made him laugh, the same hand he used to hit you fully on display for you to see him close it. The immediate reaction of you was a shriek, as if the demon was squeezing your insides. “What the fuck, Tsukki?”

 “Why are you so surprised?” Tsukishima asked with fake innocence, wiping the tears you didn’t know you shed. “You just told me you loved me with all your heart, that a part of your soul is mine… So I’m claiming my belongings, after all, this is the kind of demon I am: whenever a stupid little human like you summons me with blood, they sell their souls to me. It’s a matter of time for me to get it”

“I… I trusted you, Tsukki…” Your sobs interrupted your own speech. All the intimate moments you two have spent together were pure acting, meaningless, just to make you give your everything spontaneously to him. 

Your grandmother was right. You regretted every single interaction you had with Tsukishima, the demon you summoned before entering college. 

“Well, it’s your own fault.” With that, Tsukishima harshly pulled his hand backwards, leaving behind only an empty body with no soul. 

TAGLIST

crossed users are the ones i couldn’t tag!

@jovialnoise @paripedia @angmarwitch @shinhiromi @mariachiiii @elianetsantana @moonlightaangel @vicassa @boosyboo9206 @shrimpypenis @sunshine-hina @kozupresh @humanitysbiggestsimp @atsumubabe​ @sachirou-senpai

[thatonebirbnerd]

Characters I still have no clue what to do with. Send help.

- Kyveli - Druid. Olmakhan heal grandma. If I get back into raiding I’ll need her and her gear. I made her too monochrome though; I guess her best shot is probably a makeover. I was playing around with some concepts recently but nothing’s hit quite right.

- Tyra - condi Mirage. The class is fun and I’m still happy with her visual design (shoutout to virtue-of-justice and their gorgeous norn for inspiring me), but I cannot figure out how to make Tyra a character I want to play. My best shot at that went down when ANet decided not to make Drakkar nearly as scary to norn as I’d hoped. So right now she’s just sitting here wearing almost nothing...

- Hawys - Berserker. Teragriff-inspired. A new addition to the bunch, and I love what I did with them visually, but I have hit a total wall trying to come up with a reason to keep them around.

- Siofra - Chronomancer. Nightmare Court. Possibly my favorite visual concept I have ever made, but I can’t Chrono for the life of me - nor does she feel like she has any personality to me.

- Elainyn - Scrapper. Again, adore her visuals (one of my few characters who has had visuals stay as is for several years!), and this one’s got some personality, but the class hasn’t stuck.

- Andromache - Renegade. Blood Legion. One of my oldest characters in concept but not in-game (rerolled her some time ago). I made her more visually coherent with that reroll, but just like with Siofra, nothing’s really coming to me. Maybe once I catch up on the story, something will?

- Ryxxi - Herald. One of my actual oldest characters. Gave her a makeover relatively recently. I came up with her plot hook years ago, but nothing’s ever come of it - and the apparent need to farm out a few Dragonsblood weapons to complete her new look is just not exciting me at all.

[stealikeanartist]

So my mom posted my new car on Facebook and some lady was like “Way to go, Mom!” and my mom was like “Actually, we have her grandma in heaven to thank for this *angel emoji*”

Actually no, that was me. I paid for the car. 

[nikatyler]

Simmer - Get to Know

I was tagged by @mysimsloveaffair​, @poisonfireleafs​ and I believe @desira-sims​ too, but my activity feed just isn’t showing it at the moment. Thanks guys!

Your name: Veronika

Languages you speak: Czech, English, Slovak and a little bit of German

Are you a mermaid: It would suck if I was one because we don’t have a sea in my country D: Love swimming tho

Your play style: Pausing every five seconds to get a screenshot, yelling at my game to stop lagging

Your Selfsim picture: (guess what, she played with the fire)

Stories or gameplay, builds, lookbooks, edits or cc: Stories and gameplay

Your favorite age state: In the game? Young adult. In my own life? Make me a toddler again and send me to like 2002 please

Your favorite season: Summer

Your favorite holiday: Christmas

How was your day: Not bad! I’m at my grandma’s house and I pretty much spent the whole day playing with her dog.

Your favorite career: I really enjoyed the Scientist career when I played it in NSB, even though it got a bit repetitive with time.

Your favorite aspiration: I'm not sure. But I use the creative ones a lot.

Your favorite EP, Sp or GP: EP - Seasons, SP - maybe Movie Hangout? idk, GP - Parenthood or Vampires, don't make me choose haha

How old is your simblr: It will turn four this August! Though technically its 4th birthday is in January or February, it just took me a few months to actually find the courage to post.

Have you woohooed: Lmao nope. Neither did my simself. I'm not even all that interested to be fair. Shoutout to all my followers who are also somehow under the ace umbrella! I love you and we’re valid!

Your favorite skill: Guitar, painting and...singing is fun, even though the first few levels are painful.

The size of your Mods folder: 2.0 something GB and we’re going down babey!

Your 3 favorite mods: MC Command Center, UI Cheats Extension and Pose Player. Where would I be without you, honestly.

Your interests (other than sims): drawing, writing, reading, history (especially 20th century), pilates and music (not making music, just listening to it and reading facts about musicians and genres and whatnot, I'm actually not musically talented at all)

Your favorite sim (picture if possible): I have a few but ultimately I think I have to say Tyler.

Which Sims games you have played (including mobile games): TS2 (two or three times in my life), TS3, TS4, The Sims Mobile (on the day it was released, then never touched it again) and that game that was on Facebook like ten years ago - The Sims Social it was called, I think? God my cousin and I were obsessed with that

Propose a crazy scheme: How about we don't accidentally leave vampires in the sun? :o

Best part of simblr: The fact that I can share my obsession with people who feel the same way. Literally no one else would listen, but you guys would.

Worst part of simblr: When someone makes their petty drama with another simblr public and people who most definitely shouldn't care because it's none of their business come in with their smartass textposts, spreading the fire and accusations. Just...keep it in your messages, talk it out with them and if nothing else heps, block them and move on. It works wonders. Don't drag them, don't drop their name, don't tell your followers to go ruin their life, don't start an anonymous blog saying "hey this person is stupid" and then tag a million simblrs who have probably never even heard of them (I wish I wasn't speaking from experience but these are all things I've actually seen over the years). You're better than that. Sorry, rant over.

What other games you play: Life is Strange and sometimes Garry's Mod with my sister. Subway Surfers on my phone when I'm really bored. Or Picrew games.

Other websites or accounts (origin, twitter etc..): I actually left twitter because it was putting my head into an unhealthy mindset, leading me to question everything and probably contributing to my already bad overthinking habit. Also I was just generally a bitch on twitter, something pissed me off, I immediately tweeted about it. Ten tweets, then I calmed down, few hours later I deleted them. But you can still follow @simmeronnie if you think I might come back. What else...I'm veronika2212 on the Gallery. My other social media accounts are not related to sims at all, so I won't list them.

Are you single: Single and lowkey craving some kind of love and care but hey it's fine I'm fine I'm not a sad little human being or anything

I should’ve waited until tomorrow to answer this tag, I’m so tired. Oh well. It’s done now. Besides we all know that I’m a bit of a clown so :D Goodnight.

Consider yourself tagged if you wanna do this!

[lovelylapins]

boarding school

day 20: boarding school for @auyeahaugust

ko-fi

haha i had originally planned to have this posted as a nice shoutout for chlonette week but uhhh my queue had other plans! :)

Marinette came back in the third week of July. She came back with a new handbag on her shoulder, manicured nails, and her regular pigtails gone, a neat, way too stylish bob in its place.

Needless to say, she had an effect on everyone.

“Boarding school?” Chloé practically spits out, looking over at Marinette, watching how she walked into the café and made for their table. Each step was sure and without a falter, very different from the Marinette she knew. From the Marinette they all knew, who a few months ago would’ve walked in with last season flats and would probably trip over her own feet before she even made it to the table.

This Marinette had on Jimmy Choo’s.  

“Yes, boarding school,” Alya says, pulling out the seat next to her out so Marinette could sit. “I’ve told you like a dozen times this summer. And so has Adrien. And Nino.”

“I thought you all were joking!”

“Chlo, you were there when Marinette got the acceptance letter, and when we sent her off at the airport for New York. What else did you think she was up to all summer?”

“I don’t know! Maybe traveling with her family! She has that one uncle, and that weird grandma who always traveling around.”

“They have names, you know.”

“You act like I’ll say any of them even if I knew them,” she points out. “It’s been, like, three months since I even started using Marinette’s first name.”

“I’m surprised you kept up a good fight with the hyphenated last name.”

“It’s called tradition.” Chloé frowns as she sees Marinette near, continuing, “Getting my nails done every Tuesday. Buying new clothes only when it’s not rainy. Marinette not being… like that!”

“Thanks,” Marinette says, close enough now she heard the last end of the sentence. She set down her bag on the table and sat down, scooting in to Alya. “Glad you noticed the change.”

She gets an eye roll in response, which last year would’ve prompted a well-placed insult but instead gets a small smile in return, a long way from where they used to be. They had long since abandoned the rivalry after being forced into a room alone and confronted with the fact that hey, maybe you aren’t so bad. Now, they blended well together, the usual envy and spite coming out in curt comebacks and blunt honesty that no one else in their social circle would provide to either.

Which was why Marinette didn’t bat an eye at the next to leave Chloé’s mouth.

“Since when did you have money?” Chloé glared at her shoes, the same flats she had sitting in her walk-in closet and yet to be broken into, which would most definitely have to be returned now.

“She didn’t mean it like that,” Alya says, sending a look her way.

“She didn’t?” Marinette asks, looking over at Alya and arching a brow. A perfectly plucked brow at that, with a nice enough arch Chloé had to bite her lip and make a mental note to get hers redone.

“Yes, I did,” she says, ignoring Alya. “Marinette, where did you suddenly come in contact with six hundred euros? Because I know very well those Jimmy Choo’s didn’t just magically appear on your feet.”

Marinette merely blinks, cool and collected while she lifts one foot up and moves her head to gaze down at them. “Oh these?” she asks. “They were a gift.”

“A gift?”

Marinette smiles, and it’s the same kind of grin that leaves Chloé wondering if she’s challenging her or simply looking nice. “At the school, we won prizes if we ranked top in our weekly projects. Drawn up designs, or quickly sewn up outfits were the usual project.”

“How many did you win, girl?” Alya asks, eyes widening.

“How long was I gone for?”

“Two months and a half,” Chloé answers, a bit too fast for her liking.

Marinette counts the weeks down on her fingers, knocking down all but four. “Then six projects,” she says, looking up at them.

“I am so digging through your closet on our next sleepover.” Alya leans back in her chair, arms crossed. “Also, care to clue me in on why you suddenly got a haircut, Mari? I knew it was short but didn’t think it’d be that short. C’mon girl, give me the details.”

“The school promoted changing our looks to show how cutting edge and innovative we could get about ourselves. I guess I took it to the next level.”

This is ridiculous, Chloé thinks. Utterly ridiculous. Where did she go, America’s Next Top Model?

“Anyways,” Marinette pushes her hair back and smiles at the two when her fingers meet the end, “it’s cute, right?”

“It’s alright,” Chloé says, cutting in before Alya can agree. “I mean, it frames your face well, if that’s what you wanted to hear.”

Marinette blinks. “Oh. I guess that’s a good thing, right?”

“Duh. Don’t tell me the American water did something to your brain. You need every braincell you have.”

In a typical setting, something like that would’ve prompted a good comeback, one that sent Chloé reeling and working her brain around for something snarky to say back. In a typical setting, she would’ve found herself caught with either a glare or eyes narrowed, staring her down while Alya sought to diffuse the situation.

Instead, she gets a laugh out of Marinette, eyes crinkling and the laugh lines showing. It’s a laugh Chloé hadn’t realized she missed, one that reminds her of the plenty of good times they had just started to share.

“So I guess I was missed, huh?” she asks, an elbow coming up to lay on the table and her chin coming forward to sit on her open palm.

Chloé sputters, caught off guard. “As if,” she responds, cheeks going red. “Come on, you aren’t that important.”

She’s lying, of course. Not that she’ll ever give Marinette the satisfaction of finding that out.