#these are some like sketches from last month and I think they still hold up

[mimis9thcircle]

Lovers <3

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

The Tiefling Bachelors Taking Care of Sick! Reader Getting Treatment

A/N: This was sitting in my drafts, finished months ago, but I guess I never posted it? Oh well, it’s here now! 

No one asked for this but it came to me as I was getting infused the other day. I really wanted Zevlor to manifest out of thin air and hold my hand  😔. Anyway, without further ado… Here we go!

Characters: Dammon/Reader; Rolan/Reader; Zevlor/Reader

Word Count: 1.1k 

TW: Brief discussions of illness, some fantasy medical talk

Dammon- 

Dammon is probably the most fussy of the trio. He’s bumbling around the tent, ensuring you have enough blankets and water. Or do you want tea? Juice? Whatever it is, love, name it and he will fetch it for you.

He means to be helpful although his nervous waiting on you does create an air of anxiety in the room. 

If he gets too manic, the healers have to send him out on an ‘errand’, so that he can collect his nerves and so you have time to yourself. 

When he returns, Dammon is much calmer, having been cornered and given a pep talk by one of the elder tieflings or your companions outside. 

He’ll sit across from you, and distract you by showing you his latest outlines/blueprints for swords and lathes and such. 

If you’re particularly stressed, or truly not feeling well due to the side-effects of the treatment, he might even show you his jewelry designs. Dammon was, of course, planning to give them to you as a present after you’d finished your treatment, but in the meantime, he’d like you to keep them in mind to have something forward to look to. 

If you’re sleepy, he’ll just stay at your side while you rest, sketching in his book or making idle chats with the healer. 

Dammon excels at ‘parallel play’ kind of dates. He quite enjoys it when the two of you are each doing their respective thing within a shared space. He’s more than comfortable amusing himself while you just chill out right next to him. 

Of course, before you leave, he asks the healers a million questions, scrambling down all their answers. How long will this last? What side effects should you look out for? What happens if things get worse? He wants to be prepared after they take their leave, and he sees it as his responsibility to take care of you as you recuperate. 

He’s really so sweet, like a little puppy dog. He’s not always the most helpful, and he has a tendency to get in the way, but his efforts never fail to lift your spirits at the end of the day.

Rolan-

Rolan is such a stickler for being an oppositional brat all the time. He gives everyone around him whiplash by turning into the most overbearing parental figure. You’d think he’d been possessed if it wasn’t for that trademark smirk of his. 

He’s constantly making you drink. No, he doesn’t care that you’re not thirsty, the healer said to stay hydrated throughout the process. And no, he doesn’t care that it means you have to get up to pee every 15 minutes. Urinary frequency is a small price to pay! Now be a good patient and drink your chamomile tea without any more complaining, yeah?

He watches the healers like a hawk, mentally recording their every word/move. He’s not a cleric or druid, but that doesn’t mean he’s entirely naive to healing magic. He wants to make sure whatever spells or potions you’re being given are up to his standard. 

And if the healing isn’t magical in nature... Oh boy, he’s going to be even more of a pill about it. He still hovers of course. But he also makes the occasional ‘helpful’ suggestion like: ‘I know a spell that could do that faster’, ‘Herbs are nothing compared to the power of the Weave’. The healers just roll their eyes and work around him. 

If he gets really grouchy, you’re gonna have to put him in a time-out. If not for your sake, then for the poor healers who are just trying to do their job. Rolan argues for a moment, but ultimately agrees, leaving to gather himself. 

When he comes back you can tell either Cal or Lia have spoken some sense into him, since he’s calmed down a bit. Rolan will sit with you, read to you, hold your hand if you beg ask, he might even perform a few tricks for you if you’re feeling up to it. 

He ushers the healers away as soon as they're done, wanting to just be alone with you. He puts up a tough exterior, but deep down he’s afraid. He cares for you so much. You, Cal, and Lia are his family, he feels it's his job to protect you, but try as he might he cannot protect you from your illnesses, and that hurts him deeply. 

You’ll need to comfort him once all this is all over. It’s as much an ordeal for him as it is for you.

Zevlor-

Zevlor is a worry-wart, bless his old paladin heart. His mind is always racing with endless possibilities- about the tieflings, about the grove, about you… It can be a lot for the commander to handle. 

But because Zevlor is a paladin and former hellrider, he has a good amount of experience working under pressure. He knows how to keep a level head and act on what is good for those around him, unlike what seems easiest to accomplish. 

He’s a very disciplined man, and he tries to get that discipline extended to you as you heal. He sets up a regime, for diet, exercise, and socializing catered especially to your needs and current abilities. He wants you to utilize this time to maximize your healing, and just let yourself trust that you are doing all you can to take care of yourself. 

He trusts the healers implicitly, knowing their expertise is much better suited to you and your current priorities. He’ll cater his regime around their recommendations, taking into accommodation your current feelings/moods of course. 

He writes out instructions for you to read while he’s away, busy tending to his duties. In the event he’s especially worried about watching over you, he’ll send Tilly or another one of his soldiers to check in on you periodically. 

Zevlor would love nothing more than to spend the entire day with you, keeping you safe in his embrace, but he’s wise enough to understand that even amidst these kinds of things, life must go on. He cannot abandon his duties as leader and you cannot abandon your life. 

Zevlor tries to maintain the status quo as best as possible, he doesn’t want your illness and treatments to entirely define your life, just as he wishes Elterel will not solely define his. 

Once all is said and done, he comes to find you, a warm broth in his hands. He settles down next to you as you sip your meal slowly, his tail coiling around your waist keeping you close to him. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you, you don’t need to. It’s clear to you what’s in Zevlor’s heart. 

The two of you just sit silently together, enjoying each other's company, as you brace yourselves for yet another new dawn. 

I hope you enjoyed! 

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[bettyfrommars]

nightmare!eddie x reader

a Nightmare Factory blurb

I had several smut blurb requests to do with Eddie working his magic to give us a wet dream, including one from the lovely @jo-harrington that I will probably do something with separately, and it's literally all I could think about today, so I spit this out.

18+ONLY, somnophilia, smut, unprotected sex, squirting, reader receiving oral, pet names. Okay so, this is somnophilia because reader is actually asleep, but it's also...a dream. This is a consensual relationship, and they've been together for a while at this point (for those following the story, this is a time jump). It's a wet dream, but there is also evidence that they really had intercourse. wc: 1.3k

masterlist

authors note: I've decided we are going to jump around a bit in theis series because the non-linear way is more fun, I think. I still have a Headless Horseman Eddie coming soon, but this one felt very important xoxoxox

-------

Eddie got to work early that day and threw a sheepish grin down the hall at Kevin before plopping down in his chair for the group safety meeting to do with falling from extreme heights in dreams.  

He hadn’t been able to see you in weeks and—my god—he missed you so much it made his heart hurt.  

You’d been keeping your nightmare boyfriend a secret from your family and friends, but it was hard not to mention Eddie when you’d made sure his face was a fixture in your life.  It started out as a few sketches when you first woke up, trying to keep his image fresh, but then it progressed to paintings and even a few sculptures.  You had a whole journal full of notes and different ways Eddie had appeared to you, dating back to before you ever knew who or what he was.  

“Last night, he came to me as ghostly whispers that swam in my head, and sang to me a haunting melody.”

You weren’t afraid of anything anymore, especially not your nightmares.  Being chased by a masked killer? It was just Eddie, strolling by to say hello.  A glimpse of a shadow monster behind you when you stood at the bathroom mirror? It’s just Eddie, coming around on his way to another job.  A clawed hand grabs your ankle from under the bed? Of course, it’s Eddie—-he wants to tell you a story about something that happened at work before he forgets.

Two months ago, things had become more intimate between the two of you.  There had been some yearning kisses before that, a bit of hand holding, but it was always a gamble because he said he didn’t want to mess up and get “taken off your route” completely, as if he were delivering newspapers or soliciting magazine subscriptions.

That afternoon, you took a nap, and woke up in the throws of a wet dream so fierce, you were barely able to touch yourself before you were cumming so hard it made you shake.  When the wave subsided, you rolled over and looked at the ceiling with a smile spreading across your face: “Eddieee, was that you?”

You took that as a sign that he would return that night, and so you slept naked, ready to tempt him.  The anticipation made it hard for you to drift off to sleep at first, but it wasn’t long before you felt his calloused hands moving up your thighs.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, sweetheart,” Eddie whispered, waiting for you to acknowledge him.  “Did you miss me?”

You moaned, still half asleep, but cognizant of his presence in your dream.  

Your lower back bucked off the bed when his tongue sank between your legs, making your cunt throb.

“Damn, I love how wet you get for me,” he kissed your inner thigh and ran his nose along your slit, darting his tongue into your aching hole. His tongue was…longer than you remembered, and you could feel it fill you up and twist inside of you like a big snake on the run.

You whimpered and twitched, making him smile against your engorged pussy as it dripped for him and only him.

“You came so hard for me earlier today,” his whispers were far away but also right at your ear.  One mouth sucked at your nipples and licked them while the other latched onto your core—as if there were two of him.  “I need to taste it this time.”

Under your closed lids, your eyes moved from side to side and your jaw went slack as a long groan escaped.

You were close, and Eddie knew it.

He could feel your arousal bloom in his mouth, and he rutted it in the air of the celestial sphere the two of you were existing in.  

Your whole body stiffened as you came, gasping, hips bucking up to meet his mouth, to let him suck every last drop from you.

“God, I’m so crazy about you,” he mumbled against your slit as he lapped you up, licking all the way back and teasing there a little bit. 

You could feel your eyes fluttering open and you worried that you were waking up, “no no no no…” you repeated, becoming aware of the infinite blackness around you.

You saw Eddie’s head pop up from between your legs. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Eddie,” you breathed, relieved. You wanted to put your arms around him, to spread your legs wider so that he could be inside of you, but your limbs had minimal strength. “Where are we this time?”

It looked like you were floating in a dark night sky surrounded by a sea of bright, blinking stars. It felt like you were on your bed back in your room, but there was not a trace of anything familiar.  

With a grin still wet from your gift, he crawled up on top of you to plant a few sweet kisses on your face.  “We’re in the same astral plane with the rest of the soul suckers and the sex demons.  I’m doing my best to lay low, so the head Incubus doesn’t know I’m here.”  

Talking to your boyfriend and kissing him was great but you were suddenly hit with another blast of horniness so strong it made you clench.

“I need you, Eddie,” you whined against his mouth, finally able to move your hands up to undo his belt.  “Inside of me this time.”

His clothes were off in a split second, as if he’d never been wearing any to begin with. Your hole gripped at nothing when the tip of his hard length rubbed against it.  

“That’s it —fuck—just like that,” he held your hips up and sank in deep as your eyes fell closed again.  You drifted in and out of the astral plane as he made you his with long, slow strokes first, hitting that perfect spot inside each time.

You chanted his name as he worked his fingers in the right spot, just like you'd taught him to the last time you were together.  "You're doing so good, baby," you hushed. At one point, you felt like you were being lifted off the bed—becoming weightless—while he kept a steady pace.  

He hesitated abruptly, pausing there, and you managed to open your heavy eyelids to look at him. 

His expression was a serious one. “I’m about to cum, baby, but I wanted to tell you that I think I…I think I…”

But he couldn’t finish the sentence and your head rolled back as he continued, cursing at how good it felt.  

Your second orgasm hit with a sense of release you’d never felt before, and you cried out, trembling, as sunburst exploded at your core and a velvet whip cracked.

“You’re cumming…all over me…oh my god,” and the sight of your release spraying onto his cock made Eddie pour himself into you on the spot, stuttering as your walls milked him, each of you babbling incoherent words of worship to the other.

In the aftermath, he took you in his arms from behind to spoon you close.  He could feel your breathing change, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before you left dreamland through the magical door.  

“I think…” he started again, brushing his lips on the shell of your ear.  “I think I’m in love with you.”

—---

You took your time waking up, guiding yourself through another orgasm as the remnants of the dream lingered.  As always, you tried to hold onto the feeling of him for as long as possible, gasping his name as you came again, and your head lolled from side to side on the pillow.  

Once you were fully awake, the all too familiar sadness set in; the realization that he wasn’t really there, with you, like you wanted him to be.  

Your spirits soon lifted when you felt his seed drip down your leg on your way to the bathroom, elated at the realization that you had successfully kept a piece of him with you. 

One day, you’d figure out a way to keep all of him.

[kaeyas-beloved]

Holiday Happenings

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Freminet

— spending the holiday season with them is never a dull moment

CWs: gn!reader (no pronouns), fluff, modern!au, Freminet's is platonic/Albedo’s is romantic/Childe’s can be read as either-or, alcohol (Childe), kissing, petnames (love), reader is gifted a necklace in Childe’s but it’s design isn’t described, Freminet might be OOC this is my first time writing him!!

This is my contribution to the 2023 Genshin Secret Santa! @mechalily this is for you and I hope you like it!! ('m sorry for being a little late <3)

Albedo

"You're not seriously working during Christmas break, are you? I thought you finished all your assignments already?" When you entered your boyfriend's dorm room during the evening hours you really weren't expecting him to be hunched over and writing away at some chemical research… thing. Actually, you thought he’d be either sketching or reading. “Albedooo, you’re not supposed to be a slave to the education system for the next few weeks!”

Your little comment left him unfazed as he finished writing his thoughts down before glancing up at you. “This is no assignment love, just merely research I conducted on my own time from my own curiosity. It’s quite fascinating really, and I think it’s something you’d enjoy as well.” While your heart does indeed warm at the thought of him keeping you in mind during his day-to-day activities, and you'd be more than willing to sit and listen to him for hours, you came here with a purpose dammit!

Nonchalantly you stand behind him, draping your arms over his shoulders and resting your head beside his. He gives you a look, blank for the most part but you can see the underlying suspicion in them, a silent What are you planning?. You just smile like you’re not up to anything, even though you most certainly are. Subtly you move to grab something from your pocket, getting ready to reveal it along with your notorious plan.

“While I most definitely want to hear about your research, I think you should be relaxing just a little more and doing more holiday activities or your regular hobbies than something you’ve been doing nonstop for the last few months. And I’ve got just the idea for you,” and with that you pull what you had in your pocket out, holding it above the both of you.

“Kissing me under some mistletoe!! …followed by cuddles 'cause it’s cold please and thank you.” At first he blinks, then his eyes move between your expectant face and the plant and that was all it took for a small smile to find itself on his lips.

“You know,” he starts, shifting in his seat to face you better, “all you had to do was ask. There was little need to go to such lengths.”

“But that takes all the fun outta it!” You pout, still hoping he’ll humour you and fulfill your holiday wish. You even playfully try batting your eyelashes, intending to sway him.

Of course, Albedo never needs to be swayed to give you a kiss, or even cuddles. Besides, who is he to go against the ‘must kiss under the mistletoe’ rule? So, without much convincing, soft hands cup your cheek and lower you towards him, his lips soft and delicate as he gifts your long desired kiss. It’s not too short and not too long, just the right length to make you feel warm and your lips tingle with the memory of him.

When he pulled away he deftly plucked the mistletoe from you, placing it on his desk before looking back at you, his thumb stroking your cheek, eyes full of tender love. “If I recall, you requested some cuddles as well, yes? Let’s not waste any time then, as I too have been craving all that is you.”

Childe

The thrum of the music in the house vibrates deep in your chest, the cacophony of sound mushing together in your head, evoking the beginning of a headache. Leaning against the kitchen counter, you're left wondering how a noise complaint hasn't been made yet, positive everyone within three blocks of the house is ready to riot for their right to peace and quiet.

Taking a sip of... whatever juice mixed with vodka that was provided, your eyes bounce between the bodies and faces of the other university students, each having one thing in common: skipping the books in favour of having some end-of-the-year fun. There's one face you're looking for in particular though, and the moment his bright ginger curls catch your eye you're on the move towards him.

As if sensing your gaze, Childe turns and smiles, raising his own cup in greeting. “You actually came, I’m quite surprised."

You suppress an eye roll as you lightly bump shoulders with him, returning his smile with one of your own. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world. It’s been too long since I’ve gone out and had some fun.” You take a greedy gulp of your drink then, letting yourself relax now that you’re in the presence of a familiar face. Childe mirrors your action before setting his now empty cup on the coffee table, guiding you up the stairs to a quieter place. He takes you to the first empty, and most importantly quiet, room he could find before shutting the door behind the both of you.

“While I’m all for a good time, even I’m starting to get a headache from how loud it is. Hope you don’t mind.” You’re quick to dispel his worries with a smile and a shake of your head. Acting like you own the place, you set your cup on the closest stable surface and walk over to the other side of the room - a lavish bedroom now that you take a look around - opening up the balcony doors before stepping out. The cold hits you instantly, but it’s a welcoming sensation against the smothering heat of the party. Childe isn't far behind you, leaning against the banister as he gazes out at the snow-covered city, dotted with lights.

While you're more than content with sitting in silence, your banister buddy has something on his mind, so he's anything but hesitant to relight the conversation, "oh! That reminds me…” he pulls something from the pocket of his hoodie, “this is for you. Merry Christmas.”

He hands you a thin, rectangular box, red in colour and a white ribbon wrapped around it and tied into a bow. By weight and the slight noise it makes when you took it, it was clearly a jewelry box, and the moment you pull the silk off and lift the lid you’re met with exactly as you thought it’d be.

You whisper his name on a breath, picking up and examining the design that hangs on the chain. “Oh wow… this is lovely Childe, thank you!” The male smiles, glad he was able to pick out something to your liking. He watches with eager eyes as you put it on, everything about it suiting you to a T.

“Glad I still know what you like. Now..." He chuckles, a mischievous look in his eyes showcasing the clear tease he’s trying to make, "where’s my gift?” And really, he leaves himself open to your own teases. You can’t help but be a little mean.

“Nice try, but naughty boys don’t get Christmas gifts,” you snicker, crossing your arms and turning away from him. Cue the ginger’s normal antics of practically hanging off you, a smile and a pout on his face at the same time as he pesters you about forgetting to get a gift for your favourite person. These things don’t bother you one bit though, staying calm as an overgrown baby clings and pleads for the gift he knows you got him.

Finally, you give some crumbs, “Okay, okay, maybe, just maybe, I got you something. And maybe, it’s sitting at my house, waiting for you.”

When his eyes brightened, shining with pure delight as he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the party and towards your place, you can’t help but think his joy was the best gift you could get.

And if he’s this happy over hearing he got a gift, then you can only guess how over the moon he’ll be at the life size plush he’s gonna get.

Freminet

"This is your first Christmas away from the orphanage, right?" You ask softly, digging through your box of Christmas ornaments while sparring the young boy a glance. Wordlessly, he takes the miniature top hat decoration you hand him, nodding softly as he stands and places it on the tree.

“That’s right. It’s also the first one I’ll be spending without Lyney and Lynette… so I’m very grateful that you’re letting me spend it with you,” he said, smiling softly. You huff a chuckle, handing him another decoration.

“Of course, it’s my pleasure to have you here this year. I’m just sorry the snowstorm prevented your siblings from coming home.” your words are genuine in nature and for that the young boy nods in thanks, hanging a couple more decorations with you in silence.

Over the years of knowing the three orphans you've come to notice a lot about each of them, and something about Freminet was that he was a quiet child, quieter than his sister at times. It speaks volumes about his character, and through trial and error, you've uncovered the why and how to work your way around it. He's quiet, but that doesn't mean he has nothing to say. Coincidentally, this also works in your favour, a simple segway into your little surprise.

"So, did you have any Christmas traditions?"

"Christmas traditions?"

"You know, opening a single gift on Christmas Eve, the Christmas pickle, leaving cookies and milk for Santa, those kinds of things!" As you listed things off his eyes widened slightly, lit with understanding. He makes a small humming noise, obviously thinking how he should phrase his response.

“Well, I’ve heard of each of those, but the only one we ever participated in was leaving treats out for Santa and his reindeer. I did always want to open a present on Christmas Eve though, but I never asked if we could; I was content with just getting a gift.”

Your smile widens a bit, “why don’t you open one then? How about that one, the red, perfect square one?”

“Are you sure? Like I said, just getting a gift is enough for me…”

“I insist. Please Freminet? Pretty please?” Although reluctant, the boy finally concedes and picks up the gift you pointed out. It was light in weight, as if there wasn’t much or anything at all within. One last glance up at you and Freminet is carefully tearing into the wrapping paper, revealing a bland, brown cardboard box. Lifting the lid, the blond tilts his head, pulling out one of his brother’s signature magic cards. Flipping it over reveals a simple message: Merry Christmas Freminet &lt;3

Confused, he turns to look at you for an explanation only for his eyes to widen in shock at the familiar faces standing next to you.

Lyney flourishes his hat, bowing at the waist, “and just like that, with a little Christmas magic, Lynette and I reappear before your very eyes! Merry Christmas Freminet!”

Lynette smiles softly, not as eccentric as her twin, though the love behind her words is very clear, “Merry Christmas.”

Freminet stands at a loss for words, looking between his two older siblings before shifting over to you. "But... the storm... weren't they supposed to be...?" His lips part to ask you his burning questions, but all you do is wink and lift a finger to your lips. It wouldn't be magic if the magician told their secrets after all. He doesn't need to know you pulled some strings to get them home earlier than intended, simply because you knew Freminet wanted to spend Christmas with them.

And the young boy doesn't push for more from you, instead stepping forward and embracing his siblings, glad they could be home for the holidays. Now, he gets to spend it with all of his loved ones.

Tag list: @spoopy-fish-writes // @that-enby-alien // @xenuuu // @kaeyaloml // @mariposa666haruka // @quackquackmfs // @kunikuzushiii // @ajaxstar // @genshin-impact-writings // @ventisweetheart // @lordbugs // @leena-shi // @lemontum // @akiria12167 // @ari-the-wr1ter // @dontmindmebeing // @xiaos-wife // @irethepotato // @milkwithspiceyicecubes // @stygianoir // @francisnyx // @leemidnightmoon

[kybercrystals94]

Teal Paint

Read here on Ao3!

Angstpril 2024 | Day 18 | Prompt 18: Left Behind

Rated: G | Word Count: 1526 | Summary: Memories left behind... | Character Focus: Hunter, Crosshair, Tech, Wrecker, Omega, Echo

*some slight spoilers at the very end for Season 3*

Tech finds a reasonably tame city to spend their brief period of downtime between missions. It took several months, but they’ve finally scraped enough credits together, and today is the day. The streets are crowded with evening traffic, the Batch walking close together to avoid being separated.

“Did you know,” Tech says, informatively, “that facial tattoos are among the most painful, depending on the location on the face?” 

“Thanks, Tech,” Hunter grumbles, “that’s really helpful.” 

“You’re not going to talk us out of it,” Crosshair adds resolutely.

Wrecker nods. “Yeah, we’re gonna do it no matter what you say, Tech!” 

Tech huffs. “On the contrary, I’m quite eager to observe the process. I just believe that being well informed is beneficial when making a life altering decision.” 

“Maker, Tech, getting a tattoo isn’t life altering,” Crosshair says. 

“It’s awesome!” Wrecker declares. “You should get one too, Tech.” 

“I prefer modifications that can be modified,” Tech retorts.

Crosshair leans close to Wrecker, puts his hand up to shield his mouth from Tech, and loudly whispers, “He’s too scared.” 

“That is not true.” 

“Aww, Techie’s scared,” Wrecker crows, throwing an arm around Tech. “I can hold your hand, be brave for the both of us.” 

Tech tries to extract himself from Wrecker’s grip. “I am not scared! I have stated my reasoning clearly and concisely. Fear has nothing to do with it.” 

Hunter rubs his hand across the left side of his face, a fist of apprehension balling up in the pit of his stomach. He isn’t having second thoughts, he’s almost positive that he’ll be happy with the results. He and Crosshair spent hours with a pad of flimsi sketching and scheming. Crosshair wanted something subtle, meaningful, a reflection of himself. Hunter, to his brothers’ surprise, wanted something bold. A statement. Memorable. Of the Batch, he most resembles, in appearance and speech, a reg. But he is no more a reg than any other member of his squad. He might not be able to easily change his facial structure or vocal pattern; however, inking half his face with the dark contour of a skull seems like a good start. 

“What do you think?” Crosshair asked, holding up the sketch he’d made of Hunter. 

Hunter grinned, taking the pad and admiring the simple lined likeness to himself, the skull motif shadowed deeply with graphite. He loved it. It was perfect. Exactly as he’d imagined it. “Looks good,” he told his brother.

Wrecker, at the last minute, decided that he also wants a tattoo, although his ideas are scattered and untethered to any sort of theme. Even as they approach the tattoo parlor, he is still undecided, claiming that it is going to be a surprise. 

“A tattoo is permanent,” Tech tells Wrecker again, having resigned himself to being tucked under Wrecker’s arm for the remainder of their trek. “You should at least have some sort of idea.” 

“I do,” Wrecker says, “My idea is that it will be the coolest tattoo in the entire galaxy.” 

“That is not an idea,” Tech sighs. 

At Tech’s direction, they turn off on a side street, the crowds petering off the further they walk. It doesn’t exactly feel like a bad part of town; however, it is less kept, the buildings showing their age and wear. Hunter is beginning to wonder if Tech got them lost when they turn another corner and a neon sign blinks the word “TATTOOS” at them, the flashing light practically searing into Hunter’s retinas. 

“They should get a brighter sign,” Crosshair snarks, “we almost missed it.” 

They step inside, and find the business deserted except for a human who stands up from a chair behind the counter. He is covered in colorful ink, his natural pigment completely lost under the tapestry of mismatched designs across every inch of his exposed skin. 

“Now that must’ve hurt,” Wrecker mutters to Tech, but he might as well have screamed it from the rooftops. 

Tech rolls his eyes. 

The man smiles, flashing white teeth. “Only hurts ‘til the pain goes away.”

“Naturally,” Tech agrees sardonically.

“I’m gonna guess you lot are here for some ink,” the man says. 

“They are, I am not,” Tech replies quickly. “I am here to observe.” 

“Not a fan of needles, huh?” the man asks. 

Tech opens his mouth to deny the accusation, but Wrecker gasps out, “Wait, needles?” 

Crosshair groans. “We went over this, Wrecker.”

“Yeah, well” Wrecker says, “it sounds different the way he says it.” 

“How?” 

Wrecker heaves his broad shoulders in a shrug. “I’ll just wait on my tattoo. Until I think of something good, ya know?”

Crosshair steps around Wrecker and jerks his head in Hunter’s direction. “He and I are getting tattoos. These are what we want.” He pulls two pieces of flimsi from his pocket with their chosen designs, pushing them across the counter. 

The man takes them, looking over the details. “Straightforward and to the point. I like that. C’mon around and we’ll get started.”

Hunter takes a deep breath. 

He’s not turning back now. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

Hunter and Crosshair decide to add to their armor to coordinate with their new tattoos. The next time they’re on Kamino, they find their leftover paint and set to work, Tech and Wrecker joining them. Inspired by Hunter’s new half skull tattoo, they decide to incorporate the symbol into all of their armor in some way. 

“So help me, Wrecker, if you tip over another can of paint…” Crosshair mutters, snatching up the at-risk bucket from Wrecker’s proximity. 

Wrecker is sprawled out on their barrack’s floor, taking up far more than his fair share of space. His paint brush flicks up, sending a spray of heavy duty white across the room. 

“You’re cleaning that up,” Tech says from his place at the table.

“No one will notice,” Wrecker assures them. “Maybe they’ll look like clean spots!”

Hunter sighs. “That’s not a good thing, Wreck.” 

Wrecker ignores the comment, instead dropping his paintbrush onto the tray Tech ordered him to use and holding up his helmet. “What do you think? It’s a skull.” 

“Not a human skull,” Tech points out. 

Wrecker shakes his head. “Human skulls are boring.” 

“There’s supposed to be red on your helmet somewhere,” Crosshair gripes. 

Wrecker reaches over and plucks Crosshair’s fine tipped paint brush out of his hand, the bristles still dripping red paint. Crosshair sputters a curse as Wrecker happily begins painting with the stolen utensil. 

“Hunter!” Crosshair cries, “Tell Wrecker to give it back.” 

 Hunter doesn’t even look up from his work. “Let’s share our toys like big kids,” he coos, earning a chuckle from Tech. 

“I’m gonna give it back in a second,” Wrecker says. “Almost done.” 

Crosshair growls something rude in Huttese. 

“There!” Wrecker says, tossing the brush back at Crosshair, the sniper catching it from the wrong end, paint staining the palm of his glove. Wrecker turns his helmet again to the room. “See? It’s perfect.” 

The number 99 is brandished across the forehead of his helmet in dripping red. 

“Subtle as usual, Wrecker,” Tech says. 

Wrecker grins. “Thanks!” 

Hunter sits back and admires his own helmet’s new design, carefully imitating his inked face. It’s exactly how he imagined it. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“I like this color,” Omega says, pointing at a swatch of teal paint. “Oh, and this orange is nice.” 

Tech glances at Hunter, clearly questioning the decision to let Omega choose their new armor colors. Hunter shrugs. At least it will look…different. Which is exactly what they want. 

“What about this one?” Wrecker asks, pointing at the yellow swatch.

“Yes! I like that one too!” Omega cries. 

They purchase the three cans of paint and some brushes before heading back to the Marauder. Omega is beside herself with excitement. “Do you think the paint will work on my helmet?” she asks. 

“Sure, kid, ‘course it will,” Wrecker says cheerfully. 

“I’m gonna use orange on mine, then,” Omega says. 

That evening, spread out under the Marauder’s wing, the Batch set about repainting their armor. Wrecker can’t bear the thought of covering up the skull on his helmet, so he settles for removing the bright 99 from it instead, sanding it down and repainting the area white. With Omega’s help, he uses orange and yellow to accent the rest of his armor pieces. 

Tech and Echo decide to monopolize the orange paint, leaving very little to Hunter. With a sigh, he picks up the teal paint, and pries it open. Omega beams at him. “I think that will be a very nice color on you,” she tells him sincerely, and suddenly, the color doesn’t seem so bad. 

<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>

“All the armor’s been stripped. But we’re still not gonna blend in,” Echo says, tossing Hunter his helmet. 

The colors of his past lives have been removed with finality. He knows it is necessary; however, he can’t help but feel the pang of loss as he stares at the familiar piece of himself he’s had for so long, devoid of the visible memories lingering like ghosts behind him. 

Maybe they’ll paint their armor again, when all of this is over. 

If they all make it back. 

END

@the-little-moment and @just-here-with-my-thoughts 🥳 I can't believe we've only got 4 more stories/chapters each to go!

✨Let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list!✨

Tag List: @followthepurrgil @isthereanechoinhere96 @amorfista @mooncommlink @arctrooper69 @nagyanna424 @proteatook @ezras-left-thumb @merkitty49

[niyana-the-ambiguous-mobian]

New Story time!

This one is dedicated to the ever so talented @cosmoshard, who made the rough sketch that inspired this piece in the first place,

also, this serves as some semi-revenge on her for making me cry on my birthday XD

This time, the story is focused the ARK siblings themselves, Shadow and Maria!

=========================================

“Are you almost done yet grandpa?” Maria impatiently rocked back and forth on her feet, earning a light wack on her head from a piece of paper. “Hey!”

“Hold still, Maria! Your back needs to be straight and still.” Gerald exclaimed, the marker he was holding nearly creating a mark on top of Maria’s head, taking a moment trying to rub the stain from her hair with his fingers.

Maria made a face at Gerald, moving her head away from his hands. “I am holding still, grandpa! I’m trying to make sure I’m getting taller!”

“Well, you’re not making it easier with you doing all this fidgeting.” He placed his hands and her shoulders to keep her still. “Now just keep still. And don’t stand on your toes either.”

The girl fought the urge to roll her eyes as her grandfather finally made a mark on the wall, drawing a straight line while she backed away, bouncing on her feet. “Ok, you’re all done.”

She looked among marks and lines from previous measuring sessions, seeing that the current one was hovering above the previous line.

She let out a gasp and started jumping up and down. “I grew! I got taller, grandpa! See, look at it!”

”Yes, yes I see it.” He gave a pat to her head, taking notes on his clipboard. He walked over to his desk with Maria following close behind him.

She moved in front of him while he continued to write. “I can’t believe the new line you drew was higher this time! How tall am I now?”

Gerald paused and lifted up one of the papers to read it. “Well, according to the results, you’ve grown…” He stopped mid sentence, a look of surprise. “Oh my, this is odd.”

Maria stopped her joyful skipping, sensing his change in tone. “What, what is it?”

”It says here that your height from this month is less than it was last month.” He hung his head down, sighing dramatically and placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m afraid that you're shrinking, my dear.”

His granddaughter’s face went from worried to annoyed in a second flat, pushing his hand away and rolling her eyes. “Grandpa….”

The man chuckled at her unamused expression. “I’m only teasing, you’ve grown about a total of 6 inches from last month. You’re about 4’3 now. Almost getting to 5 feet already.”

Maria’s face lit up and did a celebratory dance with some spinning involved, nearly bumping into Gerald in the process and tripping over her feet. He quickly caught her before she fell over, slinging an arm around her and pulling her close to his side.

”My goodness, I’ve never seen you so excited about something like this before, may I ask why?”

Wrapping her arms around him, she raised her head with a wide smile on her face. “Because! It’s the first time I’ve gotten this tall in awhile. You always told me that healthy kids grow big and tall whenever they eat their veggies and get enough sleep, it’s finally working for me!”

The smile on Gerald’s face faltered when she finished by hugging him tighter. Bless this child for keeping her hope high with a statement like this.

He always told her when she was younger that those things were important to do, eating as much healthy food to keep her immune system from failing, getting enough sleep so her body can get its rest, even those times where he told her not to tell lies otherwise her nose would grow long each time she did.

It made him grateful knowing that these little things were making a difference for her in her lonely life up here in the colony, even though it felt like it was wrong giving her such high expectations for her condition, since there was no cure for it but making her think that something like this is actually helping her illness when in reality it would barely make a dent in it overall broke his heart even more.

He forced a smile on his face and squeezed her back. “You're very right on that. I told you it would work out eventually.”

Maria beamed a wide smile, skipping towards the door. “Where are you heading off to?” Gerald called after her, making her nearly slip on the floor when she slowed herself down.

“I'm going tell him about it!”

“Who?”

“Shadow! He's been wondering if I was getting better, I gotta go and tell him before he gets worried!” She ran out of the room as soon as she finished, her pigtailed hair flying out wildly behind her as she disappeared before the doors even closed.

Gerald stood there in ear numbing silence, his hands clenched up into fists as those last words lasting through his ears like a forever frozen echo.

‘Wondering if I was getting better’....

A grim expression masked over his face. “Oh my child, if only it were as simple as that for you.”

Read the rest on Ao3!

[ritikajyala]

Can you write something about soulmates?

Aunt Maya showed me her old photographs one night, decades of her life divided in stacks. She had a black bob in the 80s and wore long pants dripping with youth. I was so pretty then. She sighed. Aunt Maya is 52 now and lives with 3 cats- Bob, Leah and Metatron. But she was 25 once, and had a blonde shag in the 90s. She rode a motorcycle. Oh, who's this?, I ask. The picture shows a man, young and tall, on a black harley, my aunt wrapped around him, a brunette this time.

"He's Connor, an old friend."

I wait for her to continue. She doesn't, so we move to the next page. I see the same man with her, in bars and beaches, at home and in a garage. They look good together, I think. And I look up at her, her eyes lost somewhere else, some other time. I flip the page again, and he's there again, in group pictures, alone with my aunt, with her best friends, lan and Sherly. A drop falls on the album and I see her face again, sketched with wrinkles and smile lines, a tear rolling down her left cheek.

I know what he is to her and what he means, a part of her past buried in albums becoming a part of her life once again.

"Look at him, he looks so happy here", she points to a picture of him in a cabin. He's holding her hand and they're giggling, her hair longer with blue tips.

"When I look at him, I'm 19 again, and he becomes everything, my past and my future. I always wondered what he'd look like when he was old. I wondered if he thought the same for me, I still wonder sometimes."

"Do you still love him?" I know the answer.

She's lost again, in old restaurants that have shut down, forests that don't exist anymore, in moments she has guarded as memories, refusing to forget them. Slowly, she pulls herself back to me.

"I did, once. I don't know, memory is a faulty thing and the past moves in circles. I don't think about some things for months, only to obsess over them for a week. Also, I don't think I know him now. I did once, and I loved him, loved who he was and who he could be. But I know he's a different person now, I am too."

We stay quiet for a while.

Quietly, she begins to flip the pages again. We silently watch her life, their life together. Seasons go by in minutes, hair changing from the brightest yellows to purple streaks, a glorious technicolor of Aunt Maya. I realise a while later that Connor stops showing up in her photographs. New men and women take his place, stay for a while and then disappear. She looks older now, and her friends change, people moving in and out of her life. The photographs change too, become more clear, vibrant, sharper. At one point, her hair stops changing, a tuft of grey emerging at the roots, getting longer and finally taking over. She still rides motorcycles and goes out with her friends, gets Metatron first- an entire album to his name. Bob and Leah follow.

At a point, the pictures stop. Mobile phones take over the empty pages in the albums. We sit still for a while.

"Was he your soulmate?"

She stared at me for a while, then smiled.

"That's just a word." She laughs, a hearty, full chuckle, her eyes shining with life. "Can I live without him? Yes, I already have. Did I love him the most? That's absurd, there's no scale for loving. Also, I think I love Metatron the most." Another chuckle.

"I think we loved each other with the kind of love that lasts lifetimes. But I've loved many people with different kinds of love that would last lifetimes. We had our time and we lived a beautiful life. Is that enough to become a soulmate? I don't know. 

"I guess that's it. You love someone in the moment, and you make more of them and then you hope those moments will last forever, knowing that they won't. So you gather those moments in your memory, hold them close and cherish them and make new ones.

"I think that's what soulmates are, moments of your life that you want to keep forever."

-Ritika Jyala, excerpt from The Flesh I Burned

[onesidedradiostatic]

I’m so sorry for this anon 😭 no due date on this! or ever. Maybe delete. Its passing on brainrot, like rabies

Imagine, if you will… dust is settling after vox and alastor have kicked major overlord ass. rubble and corpses still on fire. dramatic not-last-jedi music swells as they both catch their breath and their eyes meet. Vox closes the distance between them… there’s a beat of suspense (popcorn noises)

“I want you to join me. We can rule together and bring a new order to Hell”

“Don’t do this, Vox. Please don’t go this way.”

“N- no, you’re still!! Holding on!! Let go!! Do you wanna know the truth about your marketing reach? It’s LIMITED. You have no professional marketing training, you come from nothing. You’re nothing. But not to me.” OK SIKE I CANT DO THIS BIT ANYMORE

but imagine if Vox pulled out a PowerPoint Presentation with stonks graphs, logos, matching power-couple costume sketches, merch, HQ tower blueprints that he’s had in development for months etc. Or he’s like “we could make beautiful content together you know what I mean? like, an… intimate merrrgerrrr. but nothing full on if you’re not into that haha, I mean you’d set the pace, or I could..? I guess what I’m saying is… I’m gonna be candid here *wipes sweat, shakes nervous fanboy energy from his hands* Alastor The Radio Demon, would you do me the honor of accepting my proposal, and being partners with benefits” cringecringecringe typing all that was a copypasta nightmare. the bit never ends

And alastor says something like “haha you couldn’t pay me to! You think I’d lower my standards? Throw away my integrity? How deluded!” Throw some shame and humiliation onto vox’s emotional dumpster fire. Or really to the point: “I reject your business proposal. I’d rather die.” all because

1. ego, and

2. he thought the logos were ugly

I need it to be an UNHOLY, CRINGE DISASTER. Like i wanna be drafting my WILL from the secondhand embarrassment I want it nuclear.

but at the same time a really simple non-event would also be hilarious, considering what a huge issue Vox has made of it. Mountain out of a molehill

this reads like it escaped my immortal im so sorry

LMAOOOO NAH dw I love vox just being as cringe as humanly possible when it comes to alastor, like it could've been something simply or maybe he did make a huge show out of it, a really dramatic """business proposal""", something he poured his whole heart into a blunt "ha! no" from alastor. yeah if he was that cringe and ended up being rejected anyways making it all be for nothing I think I'd understand why he ended up being so salty

[llvmos]

Hi! I have a request. Would you be alright writing some realtionship headcanons for Dalton [like “dating him would include..”]

HI! Thank you so much for the request, I had a lot of fun writing these!

Warnings: slight jealous!Dalton, NSFW content, mentions of blood and knives for NSFW section

a/n: im working on another one shot so here is thing until i finish it! i added a NSFW section under the cut for the people who are interested in that. i do write NSFW content for headcannons and maybe blurbs but not for oneshots. if you have anymore headcannons or requests you can request on my blog!

Not proofread!!

Word count: 669

!!NSFW warning under the cut!!

Dalton Lambert Headcannons

SFW !

⭑ I think we had established this in the last oneshot but mans is so clingy. If you are gone for any more than 1 day, he will spam you with texts, calls, facetime, anything to talk to you.

⭑When you would first start dating, he wouldnt really be the biggest fan of physical touch until about a month or 2 into the relationship. After that, his hands will never leave your body.

⭑He is not a PDA person, but if he sees a guy looking at you in any way he doesnt deem as respectful, he will pull you closer to him and hold your hand.

⭑I feel he would be jealous if you were assigned a male partner in class, but he doesnt say or do anything because he doesnt want to be THAT type of boyfriend.

⭑He would draw quick sketches of you in his sketch book when hes bored. Of course he wouldnt realize he was drawing you at first but once he looks at the finished sketch, he realizes.

⭑If you guys are watching a movie or hes drawing or something, he will sit in between your legs in front of you on the floor while you sit on the bed and let you braid his hair :,)

⭑OK, so backtrack to before yall are dating, he would be so clueless.

⭑You could literally kiss him and he would say something stupid because hes just THAT clueless.

“What…You…Was that in a…friendly way?”

⭑If you wear shorts when youre at his dorm, he will grab a pen or a marker, and draw on your legs.

⭑You will walk back to your dorm with drawings going from the top of your thighs alllll the way down to your shins.

⭑He is quite literally an insomniac when hes by himself at night, but when you’re around, all he wants to do is sleep.

⭑He literally just gets so slumped and will fall asleep on your shoulder within the first 5 minutes of you being there.

⭑Even though he doesnt project frequently anymore, he still has nightmares quite a bit. When he does have these nightmares, he instantly facetimes you so he can fall back asleep.

⭑Hes a cat person. His reasoning being:

“They are just there, you know? They dont jump on you and slobber on you.”

NSFW !

⭑Ok, to get it out of the way, hes a munch.

⭑Now, when he does go down on you, his hair stays down.

⭑But if he decides to put it up, it’s half up half down like in the movie. (AHHH)

⭑He absolutely LOVES when you play with his hair when he does so.

⭑He also loves leaving hickeys but only in secret spots such as collarbones, chest, stomach, etc.,

⭑Hes definitely a switch.

⭑He cant always be in control. Sometimes he just wants to BE controlled.

⭑ This man will praise you like youre something of a higher power. (ofc you are to him, he thinks you are the most beautiful. loveliest thing hes ever seen)

⭑Sometimes he will hold your hand while you guys make love. (omg i hate that term)

⭑Then other times, his hand would be around your throat instead :)

⭑Ass or tits? Nah. THIGHS!!

⭑ Dude, i cant even express how in love this man is with your thighs. He will constantly being grabbing, touching, kissing, holding, or laying on your thighs.

⭑ He also loves finishing on them.

⭑ I dont think he would be a sadist because he wouldnt EVER want to hurt you in anyway.

⭑But….

⭑He is 100% a masochist.

⭑He wants to see scratch marks, bite marks, hickeys, red marks, blood, cuts, ANYTHING on his skin when you guys are done.

⭑Now stooping into the blood and cuts topic….

⭑Knives.

⭑He wouldnt want to cut you unless you guys talked about what your comfortable with before hand.

⭑ He probably wouldnt leave lots of cuts. He probably just use the knife to ‘scare’ you. Just because the way you look at him when he puts the cold knife against your face turns him on <3

[dalessandra01]

Between love and family — Chapter 1

By @dalessandra01

Prologue

Benophie being oldies in love, minor description of abusive household, post-canon, Julian and Violet are minors here

Summary:

“Benedict and Sophie discuss about their daughter's future.

Meanwhile, a now twelve-years-old Violet goes to the lake to find some peace and sketch some more, however, she ends up meeting a funny stranger, Julian, in the most odd of ways.

Would this meeting change her view of life completely?”

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

The story of the mysterious lady in silver had become her favourite.

Violet had lost count of how many times she'd asked her mother to tell it.

By now, any moment was a good time to hear it again: at lunch, at dinner, even at tea time.

As soon as the opportunity presented itself, Violet would bring the subject up with a new question to ask, almost fearing she had missed an important detail.

And indeed, she had every reason to think so.

The story became richer in detail each time it was retold.

The reason was obvious—her mother had deemed it appropriate to leave out certain parts until Violet was old enough to fully understand them.

And in return, she had ended up drawing the scene of the masquerade ball countless times.

That was definitely her favourite part. She filled entire sketchbooks, used up dozens of charcoal pencils, and ruined a few dresses in the process. She had become the maids' nightmare for this reason, though none of them ever complained openly.

Young Miss Bridgerton had a way of getting forgiven with just a flutter of her eyelashes, and if that wasn’t enough, she often repaid the maids' patience by creating miniatures for each of them—taking the liberty to embellish them a bit—after all, it wasn’t unlikely she’d end up making a mess again. Then, around the age of eight, she started to branch out with the subjects of her sketches, and there was probably no family member who hadn’t been captured on the pages of her albums at least once.

Sophie still laughed when she remembered her brother-in-law Gregory telling her how Violet had offered to watch over her baby cousin, only to find her sketching the sleeping infant. And then when Colin and Penelope had sent her a copy of Giorgio Vasari's ‘Lives of the Most Excellent Painters, Sculptors, and Architects’, her passion for art was finally solidified. Not even her mother, as avid reader as she was, had ever managed to read a book as quickly as Violet did with that volume.

She had found a kindred spirit in Leonardo Da Vinci, and this was evident from the fact that she never stopped talking about him.

Benedict had even reached the point where he wasn’t sure whether to feel proud or disappointed at the thought that he was no longer her favourite artist. «But Papa, he was a versatile artist, a real genius.» she would protest whenever the topic came up. «Perhaps, but at least I paint women with eyebrows.» he would mutter, earning a glare from his daughter. Charcoal sketches were something she certainly didn’t lack. The drawers of her desk were so full of sheets that they could hardly hold anything else. Yet, she still refused to pick up a canvas. Benedict had tried a few times, but she turned him down each time. She wouldn’t use a brush until she had experienced the same feeling that drove him to paint her mother over and over. It seemed like an absurd rule, condemning herself to charcoal until she discovered love, but it allowed her to keep her eyes open. She would keep observing the world around her, so that she’d be ready when the time came.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

During the summer months, Benedict and Sophie would usually steal a few moments in the morning before starting their daily routines.

With four children, the moments they could actually spend alone were reduced to the early hours of the morning or the last moments of the day before going to bed.

And when the boys came home from Eton for the holidays, it seemed like they didn’t get a moment of peace. They adored their children, from the eldest to the youngest, but when they were all together under the same roof, it was inevitable that quarrels would break out, and it seemed as though they took turns interrupting their parents at every opportunity, asking them to play the role of judges.

Benedict was thankful that their bedroom maintained a certain sanctity within the house—especially after that time Charles had caught them in a situation no child should ever witness.

Those four walls were their little retreat, where they could steal a few moments to pretend they were still the newlyweds they had been before the arrival of the children.

«Stop it, will you!»

Sophie was doing her best to stifle her laughter.

«And why should I?» her husband asked, his smile evident as his lips brushed against her skin.

«I'm simply stating a fact, Mrs. Bridgerton,» he continued, resuming the soft kisses he had been trailing down her neck.

Sophie laughed again, warmth spreading to her cheeks.

«You're nothing but a flatterer,» she teased, making him pause to look into her eyes. That look still made her knees weak, she was grateful she was already lying down.

«What exactly was flattering about what I said?»

«Benedict, I'm forty.»

«And?»

«I'm old.»

«Oh... well, I hadn't noticed that.»

«Benedict.»

Her husband sighed and shook his head again, though Sophie didn’t need to hear him say it to know he found her words ridiculous.

«And yet you don't have a single grey hair, unlike me.»

«I'm lucky.»

«You're beautiful.» And though he had said it to her dozens of times, she still blushed.

It wasn’t the word itself that had that effect on her, but the tone with which he said it. He was so confident in his statement that if he had now revealed that donkeys could fly, she would have believed him.

«I think…» she murmured, «that perhaps this adjective is more suitable for our daughter.»

He chuckled as his lips once again brushed her skin. trailing a slow, soft trail of kisses that went from her chin to the hollow of her breasts.

«Our Violet is beautiful,» he said, lifting his gaze to meet hers again, «precisely because she resembles her mother so much.»

Sophie found that remark quite unfair.

Yes, it was obvious that mother and daughter looked alike; it would have been strange if they didn’t. But every time she looked at their younger daughter, no matter what she was doing, Sophie saw only Benedict.

In the way she wrinkled her nose, in her little smiles, and in her expressions when she was bent over her drawing pad sketching whatever was in front of her.

Violet was very much like her father, and perhaps that was the secret behind their special bond. Sometimes, Benedict seemed to understand her in a way that even Sophie couldn’t.

Even his aversion to Da Vinci was a testament to how exclusive their relationship was, and Sophie had reassured him many times that he would always hold an important place in their daughter’s heart. It was amusing to see how unaware he was of how much Violet admired him.

«I know you believe it’s the opposite,» he interrupted her train of thought as if he had been observing it. How he could predict what she was going to say before she even spoke was still a mystery to her.

«But if our daughter is even half the woman you are, I will consider myself a satisfied father,» he said, taking her face in his hands and pressing his lips to hers.

In that kiss, Sophie was transported back to that day nearly twenty years ago by the lake.

To that moment when, in the height of desire, their lips had met again after two years of separation. It was a bittersweet memory, she couldn’t deny it.

At that time, she thought that everything she was experiencing in that contact was destined to cause her more pain. A servant, no, an illegitimate daughter, could never marry a Bridgerton. Even though being in his arms made her heart race just like it did now, she was afraid. Afraid that sooner or later the enchantment would fade and that Benedict, having got what he wanted, would repudiate her, finding a wife more suitable to his class.

How happy she was to have been wrong.

That man, that crazy man, had been willing to do anything to have her.

To be hers and hers alone.

And Sophie had soon discovered the freedom that came from being able to kiss her husband whenever and however she wanted, without having to be ashamed.

Many said that passion waned after thirty, yet she didn’t know if that was just a lie or if she and Benedict were the exception to the rule.

She shivered as he slid a hand along her thigh.

«Benedict…»

«Relax,» he said in a tone that brooked no argument.

«But they’ll all be awake by now.»

«As if they’re not used to it.»

«Benedict!»

He burst out laughing, kissing her ankle.

«If you didn’t agree, you’d say something other than ‘Benedict!’»

Sophie laughed as well. He was so good at imitating her.

Then, suddenly, their little bubble burst, and something else demanded their attention.

It had been almost like a bolt from the blue, a shriek so piercing that if it had been a couple of octaves higher, it would have shattered every window in the house, echoing from the end of the corridor.

«Should I grab the rifle?»

«Don’t be foolish!» Sophie gave him a gentle nudge on the shoulder as someone knocked on the door.

«Mr. Bridgerton! Mrs. Bridgerton! Miss Violet is missing!» shouted the frantic voice of their daughter’s personal maid.

Evidently, poor Ruth must have gone to wake Violet as she did every morning and must have been quite alarmed to find her missing from her room. They had thought she’d gotten used to it by now.

This was the third time that week alone that their daughter had ‘disappeared’ in the morning, and they hadn’t minded it all. They knew Violet well, and in a house full of older brothers, she occasionally needed a little space for herself, and they felt secure knowing she was just a few steps away.

«When will she learn that there’s no need for hysteria?» Benedict asked with an exasperated tone.

«She’s doing her job, Benedict; I can’t bring myself to scold her,» Sophie said, even though she had reassured the woman multiple times that they knew perfectly well where their daughter was and that she wouldn’t be held responsible.

«Neither can I, but I hate being interrupted when I’m about to make love to my wife.»

«Benedict!»

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Julian felt his heart pounding in his chest as he gripped the reins of his horse tightly. Every muscle in his body was tense, as if he expected something to jump out from around the corner, and even his mare seemed to sense the tension.

The beast neighed and snorted, tossing her head in an impatient gesture, almost as if asking him to loosen his grip. He let out a long breath and, with a gentler movement than before, gave the reins a slight tug.

It didn’t take long for the mare to understand the command and come to a stop. Her hooves thudded once against the ground, the dull sound almost a form of protest from the animal.

Julian sighed softly, running a hand down her neck in apology. Then he dismounted.

«Forgive me, Periwinkle,» he murmured in a low voice, pulling a lump of sugar from his jacket pocket.

The mare looked at him with big, dark eyes, and with a quick movement of her lips, took the treat, chewing it noisily.

Another sigh escaped his lips. Whatever the right direction was, he would have to proceed on foot, at least for a while. He clicked his tongue, and Periwinkle followed him obediently, the sound of her hooves now muffled by the moss and leaves beneath them.

At this point, all he seemed to be doing was running away.

Every boy in his class at Eton was more than happy to go home for the holidays; Julian, on the other hand, was counting the days until he could leave.

He still felt shaken, in fact, downright terrified, as his father’s voice echoed in his head.

Phillip Cavender had returned from London just a few hours earlier.

His heavy footsteps and harsh, disjointed laughter had sent chills down his spine.

He had been drinking, and when that happened, it was never a good sign.

Julian had remained frozen, not daring to utter a single breath.

He had almost considered hiding in the wardrobe, as he had done as a child, but he knew that the footsteps of a sixteen-year-old boy of his height were hardly considered imperceptible.

No matter how hard he tried to make no sound, he never was completely.

It was absurd how his father scared him to the point where the ten centimeters that now separated them did nothing to increase his courage in confronting him.

Phillip Cavander was no more intimidating than other men. Yet facing him was almost like confronting the giant Goliath for Julian.

The sound of shattering glass made him jump, and when he heard his father scream his name, almost as if it were his fault, he had grabbed his boots and jacket and climbed out the window.

His father would still be angry later, but maybe the remnants of his drunkenness would make him more lenient.

Periwinkle neighed again, bringing him back to reality. He hadn’t considered how exhausted she must have been. Julian turned to her with a shy smile.

«Are you tired?» he asked, and the mare snorted, tossing her head.

«I understand,» he looked around before pulling on the reins again, inviting her to follow him.

The mare complied, though at a slower pace.

The breeze brushed against his ears, bringing a bit of serenity to his troubled heart.

He tried to focus on anything that could distract him from his precarious family situation.

He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes.

In a family like his, listening was crucial if you wanted to survive.

Since his mother had passed away, silence had become a constant companion. Especially when it could be a harbinger of many misfortunes.

He shook his head; he shouldn’t focus on that now.

He inhaled again, hearing the chirping of birds.

Another breath, and he heard the rhythm of Periwinkle’s hooves.

Another breath, and he perceived the sound of running water.

He opened his eyes and finally noticed a small clearing where he could let Periwinkle rest. He wasn’t an expert, but the grass seemed lush enough for his mare, and this was confirmed when she lowered her head to the ground.

Julian patted her head again before tying the reins to a lower branch.

«Stay here, okay?» he asked, and though his mare couldn’t speak, her snort was more eloquent than a thousand words.

The morning was particularly warm; dipping his feet in the water wouldn’t be too bad, especially since he hadn’t had time to cool off that morning.

But as soon as he took a few steps, a sound much sweeter and more melodious than the rest caught his attention. A voice, or more specifically a song, sweet as honey.

Before he could think about what to do, his feet moved on their own.

A curiosity he was sure didn’t even belong to him took over:

«Lavenders blue, dilly, dilly Lavender's green»

The closer he got, the clearer the words became.

And the more he advanced, the more he felt transported back in time, to a moment in his life when he could still afford the luxury of sleeping with his head resting on his mother’s lap.

When his childhood still held the hope of being carefree.

In an instant, he found himself beside her as she guided his small hands along the ivory keys of the piano. His father became a distant memory, and it was just the two of them in the world, with the music, accompanying their tranquility, even if it might last only for an afternoon.

Unfortunately, those melodies had been buried with her in the Cavander household. Julian hadn’t touched an instrument in years, but that voice—it deserved to be accompanied by a melody worthy of it, and he would willingly offer his faded talent.

«When I am king, dilly, dilly, You shall be queen, Who told you so, dilly, dilly, Who told you so?»

He had recognized the source of the voice coming from behind a large tree and was tempted to meet the mysterious singer to thank her.

«'Twas mine own heart, dilly, dilly, That told me so.»

But what would she think? What if she mistook him for a creep? How reliable could a sixteen-year-old in nightclothes early in the morning in the middle of the countryside appear?

He would surely come off as having just fled from some unknown place rather than being at home. No, it wasn’t worth the risk; he was about to turn on his heels and head back.

But fate can be quite unkind.

It took just one step—one damned step, and his foot landed on a twig. At that point, the melody stopped, and the singer stepped into view.

Julian swallowed hard as a pair of brown eyes met his silver ones.

She couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen, and judging by her expression, she hadn’t expected to find anyone else around. Especially considering the way she had flinched.

«Who are you?» she asked warily, holding the sketch pad she had in front of her like a shield.

«I…»

And for some strange reason, the words wouldn’t come out. How could he be so awkward in front of a girl much younger than him?

He took a few steps back, regretting acting so suspiciously. She had surely mistaken him for a pervert.

«If you don’t tell me who you are right now, I swear I’ll start screaming,» she warned him, «I have three older brothers; you’d better not try to harm me.»

Julian swallowed again; the collar of his nightshirt suddenly felt too tight.

«Julian…» he introduced himself with a small bow, «Please forgive me, miss, I’m here by pure chance and didn’t mean to interrupt what you were doing.»

The girl tilted her head and examined him from head to toe.

«Why are you dressed like that?» she asked with a hint of curiosity. His attire was certainly not suitable for crossing the countryside.

«I didn’t have a chance to change before coming out this morning,» he admitted, feeling his cheeks flush with embarrassment.

«Were you perhaps in a hurry for a swim?» the mysterious girl asked, glancing at the lake. He stiffened again, desperately trying to change the subject.

«Shouldn’t you introduce yourself by now?» he asked, crossing his arms.

«I’m still not sure if I can trust you,» she said. At this point, it was clear she had stopped being afraid of him. The question seemed intended solely for her amusement.

«If I were ill-intentioned, I would have already harmed you, wouldn’t I?»

«You might be a very cunning one.»

«I assure you that I am not.»

«So you’re saying you’re stupid?»

«Yes—no!»

At that point, his interlocutor burst out laughing heartily, unfortunately at his expense.

Julian sighed, feeling his cheeks burn.

Now confident of his intentions, the girl tucked the album under her arm and made him a curtsy. «Violet Bridgerton, sir.»

Bridgerton?

Julian had never been interested in gossip, but it was impossible not to hear that name at least once in a lifetime. Whether at Eton or in London, that surname was on everyone’s lips.

He often wondered what it must be like to be so prominent on the London scene as a Bridgerton; he certainly did not envy them. Far from it.

The only thing Julian Cavender wished for more than anything was to disappear.

And he could only imagine the pressure on the shoulders of the members of that family.

But Violet had a carefree, even serene air about her; he could tell from the way she had sung earlier and from how her tone was cheeky and light, despite her initial caution.

And he couldn’t really blame her; he would have done the same in her position.

But there was something about her that made her different from anyone he had ever met; there was a sense of freedom in her attitude that made her stand out.

«So, you’re the daughter of the Viscount…?» he ventured.

«No, that’s my uncle,» she said, crossing her arms with a somewhat indignant air.

«Look, we are many,» she muttered, and at that childish gesture, Julian let out a faint laugh.

«I had heard about it.»

«And yet you immediately thought I was the Viscount’s daughter,» she pressed.

«You said yourself that there are many of you,» he replied with a shrug.

On another occasion, he wouldn’t have dared to provoke, but he found it rather amusing how she wrinkled her nose.

«As far as I know about the Bridgertons, you could be the daughter of anyone.»

«It seems you’re not a very good observer,» she said, shaking her head.

Julian’s eyes widened.

«Excuse me?»

«You’re not a good observer; if you were, you would have understood immediately who my father is.»

It was so strange to hear someone speak so proudly of their father. He could say everything about his own father except that he was a loving parent, even though he was good at playing the part in front of others.

Instead, the warmth with which she spoke of and admired her father was palpable in the way she used the same term. It was clear that this girl had grown up in a much more loving environment than he could have ever dreamed.

«Forgive my ignorance, then,» he said with a slight bow.

«So, you are the daughter of…?» he asked with renewed curiosity.

«Benedict Bridgerton.»

‘That’s why the album,' he thought.

He had heard that the second son of the dowager Lady Bridgerton had a couple of landscapes exhibited at the National Gallery in his name. It was no surprise that his daughter had a similar inclination.

And in Julian’s modest opinion, only an artistic soul would have had the courage to sing by a lake as she had. Many girls of her age showed such a talent just to be admired.

«You’re right; I should have realised it,» he admitted with a half-smile.

«See?» Violet said with a lopsided smile. «And you’re Julian…?»

At this point in the conversation, he considered whether to reveal his surname or not, especially since he had always considered it more a burden than a mark of belonging.

It was perhaps the first time he felt so at ease talking to a complete stranger. Violet’s voice and her playful tone made him feel calm, as if he could trust her completely.

It was more than evident that the affection she had received in her family was reflected in her mannerisms. He had no intention of ruining it by mentioning his father’s name.

Perhaps it was a silly fear; given her age, it was unlikely she knew who his father was, but it was a risk he preferred not to take.

For once, Julian wanted to indulge in the luxury of pretending that Phillip Cavender didn’t exist.

«Hawkins. Julian Hawkins,» he said, offering his hand.

«Very pleased, Mr Hawkins,» she said with a smile as she returned the gesture.

«Julian is fine, and please call me by my first name.» he reassured her

Had only he felt a strange sensation when their hands touched?

«Same goes for you,» she replied with a radiant smile.

He found himself staring at her for a couple of seconds. That girl could have competed with the sun.

«So... I see you're an artist too?» he said, clearing his throat.

«I try. Although I've never painted on canvas,» she admitted.

«Why not?» he asked again.

It wasn’t like him to be so nosy, but Violet seemed to urge him to know more almost as much as he needed to breathe.

«I don't feel ready yet,» she said with a shrug, sitting on a rock.

Julian raised a questioning eyebrow; he didn’t know much about the art world, but he had never heard an artist say they weren’t ready.

«If you’ve never tried, how can you say you’re not ready?» he asked, sitting down opposite her.

He saw her fall silent suddenly, her gaze lost on the grass, giving her a few moments to reflect. Meanwhile, he made sure not to utter a sound; it wasn’t hard, it was practically what he did for a living.

«I think... that art is something that has to be lived,» Violet replied thoughtfully,

«I can’t paint something if I’ve never experienced the feelings I want to convey.»

«Yet you draw with charcoal, as I can see,» he said, noticing the black smudges on her fingers.

«Those are just sketches.»

«But you do it.»

«But it’s not the same thing.»

«I don’t think so.»

«Yes, it is.»

«And, actually, you’re wrong. Art, as I see it at least, is always a way to explore something unknown.»

He felt quite satisfied seeing her open her mouth without having anything to counter, and seeing her at a loss for words, he decided to continue.

«Let me give you an example,» he began, looking at the lake's water, «I don’t know what it’s like to be a fish, yet I can imagine it by listening to the sound of the waves.»

Violet laughed, bringing a hand to her lips, a smile on her face.

«Do you want to be a fish, by any chance?»

«I wouldn’t mind,» he admitted with a faint smile.

«Their life is much less complicated than ours.»

«But they face many dangers.»

«I’m used to that.»

And silence fell again.

Julian bit his tongue, realising he had said too much.

«What do you mean?» she asked, her brown eyes scrutinising him from head to toe, searching for confirmation of his words.

He cleared his throat again and turned his head.

«Never mind.»

Before Violet could say anything else, they both turned their heads towards another voice calling out for her. Julian was the first to jump to his feet.

«I think it’s time for me to go.»

«Look, my father won’t eat you, you know?»

«I don’t think so, but do you really think he’d be happy to see his daughter alone with a stranger?»

Violet fell silent.

«Well... maybe it’s better if you go.» with a nod of his head, Julian moved to leave.

«It was a pleasure, Ms. Bridgerton. I hope to see you again,» he said politely.

But before he could take another step towards where he had left his horse, she stopped him again, surprising him, if possible, even more.

«Maybe tomorrow?»

«Tomorrow?» he repeated.

«Yes, maybe tomorrow afternoon,» she continued, «I enjoyed talking to you.»

He almost thought he noticed a slight blush on her cheeks, and her voice had suddenly become softer. But he brushed it aside to reflect for a moment.

After all, it had been a pleasant conversation for him too, and she had the ability to bring out a side of him that he thought was buried for years. And perhaps it was better to give her an answer soon, as the sound of her father’s voice was growing nearer.

«After lunch?» he asked. Violet nodded.

«Alright, I’ll do my best to be there.»

«You’d better, it’s bad manners not to show up after receiving an invitation. And maybe this time dress appropriately.» Julian laughed, an audible laugh without shame.

That girl was truly something special.

«I wouldn’t dream of it, Ms. Violet.»

«Violet. Just Violet,» she corrected him, and that only made him smile more.

«See you tomorrow then.» he said before disappearing among the trees.

As he made his way home, he didn’t care how his father would react to his escape.

For the first time in his life, he could hope for a bit of serenity.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Benedict continued to call for his daughter until he reached the lake himself. Not receiving any response. He knew that Violet had a tendency to shut out the world when she was absorbed in her sketches, but it wasn’t like her to give no sign of life after the fourth or fifth call.

The lack of response made him quicken his pace.

He was still her father, for heaven’s sake, and he had every right to be concerned.

When he finally reached her, he was relieved to see that she was safe and sound. However, noticing how she was staring blankly to her right, he couldn't help but look at her in confusion.

«What are you looking at?» he asked, curious.

Violet shook her head and looked him in the eyes with a polite smile.

«Nothing, Dad. I saw a hare running in that direction and wanted to see where it was going.» Honestly, he didn’t believe her at all, especially since he found it hard to believe a hare would be around there. But there was no point in arguing about it.

His mother would arrive any moment now, and the time he could spend investigating was better used taking her home so she could change her clothes.

«Maybe you'll find it again tomorrow. But for now, let’s go. We don’t want to keep Grandma Violet waiting, do we?» he said, offering his arm.

His daughter chuckled before accepting the offer.

It felt almost strange that she was finally tall enough to walk arm in arm with him, as a young lady should. It was moments like these that made him realize how much his little girl was growing up.

They continued along the path in silence for a couple of seconds before she turned her head towards him.

«Dad?»

«Yes?»

«Have you ever imagined being a fish?"

«A what?»

He looked at her with evident confusion, adjusting their pace.

«And where did that come from?»

«The hare told me.» she replied, laughing.

«Maybe you shouldn’t talk to hares,» he joked, ruffling her hair.

«Why not? They’re very intelligent beings,» she said with a smirk that matched his own.

Benedict rolled his eyes with a sigh.

«Will there ever be a day when you’ll listen to me?» he asked.

«I doubt it,» Violet said, «I’m your daughter, aren’t I?»

[educatedsimps]

01 Affettuoso

≪ our last summer masterlist | fics masterlist

[it.]: tenderly Written in the form of a letter.

August 2021

Dear Tōru

I distinctly recall the first time we had met each other. It was the second year of middle school, and I was doodling in my sketchbook, seated at the grandstand in our school's sports stadium. I was enjoying my time of solitude, because I was a shy introvert who only spoke when spoken to.

I was in the middle of my sketch of an unknown male, partially because I did not have the inspiration nor a muse to get my creative juices flowing.

Well, that was until you entered that indoor stadium. It was really more like a scene from a high school drama.

The bright afternoon's sunshine shone down onto your being while your smile rode high across your face. You had your favourite turquoise volleyball bag slung across your shoulder, and your hair was slightly tousled - like you had just ran your fingers through it after a shower.

You really made my jaw drop, and from then on, I always referred to you as My Golden Boy.

I had found my muse, and I ended that day with a sketch of your face, even though I never found the courage to show it to you.

Isn't it amusing, though? Now, upon reflection, I still have no idea why you chose me back then. I was far from the ideal match for someone like yourself.

What we had shared, however, gave me a brief taste of happiness. I think schoolmates to lovers would be the most apt way to describe us. And yet, as we grew and matured even more in high school, we realised that our goals were gradually diverging from each other. And that, I suppose, was what pushed us away from each other.

You had always wanted to become a professional volleyball player, and I had always wished to eventually pursue my artistic endeavours. The more time we had away from each other resulted in an irreconcilable chasm between us. We ended up cancelling our dates because something always popped up at the last minute, and it only became worse when you got the offer to work in Argentina. I was left behind in Japan, and I don't think you know just how agonising it was for me to not be able to see and touch you for months on end.

I know it was never something we wished for, but our split was ultimately inevitable. I remember crying my guts out, wondering why and how we had reached such a low point.

I never thought that I would lose myself, when I lost you.

Seeing you today, however, made me feel nothing but pride and joy and hope. You had accomplished your lifelong goal, your dream, as a star player in the Argentinian volleyball team. And amazingly, more and more brands were lining up to get you to endorse them.

For me, well, I had ventured into the unknown for a while, but soon I was given the rare opportunity to work as an Art History Professor in The Juilliard School in New York. My specialty is now art in the form of words, rather than my original drawings and paintings.

I arrived in Argentina several days ago on a self-care vacation, only to see your once familiar face plastered all across Bueno Aires. I see you've become quite a household name.

It first came as a shock to me, since you had decided to relocate to Argentina, but I soon realised that you had finally found so much joy in this country. Much more than you did in middle and high school, in hindsight.

Perhaps, our breakup had been kinder to you, and allowed you to find yourself in both volleyball and in your soul.

I don't regret that we have ended, I only regret not letting you go sooner. I could have propelled you to an even better position in life had I done that earlier. I only see that I was holding you back from your dreams.

Penning all of this down now, at the age of 27, is perhaps too late.

I would never have the chance to give nor mail this letter to you now, since we've lost contact. Additionally, seeing you on practically every billboard and screen prompted me to do some research on you.

It seems that you are now happily engaged to an Argentinian-born Japanese badminton player, who attained her first Olympic medal when she was only sixteen.

So yeah, this letter will be mine to keep until I'm gone.

I just wanted to use my words - the ones I never said - to tell you that I truly loved you then, and to this day, I still do.

Love always Y/N

© educatedsimps 2024. do not repost, copy, translate or plagiarize any work from this blog on tumblr or any other platforms. if you do, the simps will hunt you down. but likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[vampsquerade]

Hey, can you write a little story where Gaz s/o is an artist, they both go on an artist date (painting together, visiting museums together). Just a big art day. Thank you ❤️

YES oh my god art dates are so cute 🥹 i used some inspiration from a museum date i went on a couple years ago. i hope you enjoy! thanks for the request pandora 💕

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gaz x GN!Reader: Sketching The Day

Trigger Warnings: none, all fluff

“Hey love, do you want to go on a date today?” Kyle asked, looking across the table at you. You perk up slightly, smiling widely. “Yes, please! I’ve been wanting to go on a proper date with you for so long since you’ve come home.” you say. “Grand. I’ve got a good set of things we should do today before it’s over.” Kyle says. “Oh yeah? Are you gonna tell me what, or is this going to be one of those surprise dates?” you ask. “Hmm,” Kyle hums, tapping his chin with his finger before grinning and nodding at you, “definitely is. You’ll just have to wait and see. Now go get yourself ready, alright?” You can see the warmth on his face, and it makes you happy to be able to finally go on a date with Kyle.

His last mission was pretty tiring from what he was allowed to tell you and it didn’t help with the fact that it was one of those that took up more than half the year. Months had passed and finally, you were able to be with your beloved boyfriend again. After getting yourself all readied up an hour and a half later, you go back towards the kitchen and see Kyle’s already changed. You smile and give him a hug, inhaling a bit deeply because he put on a cologne you really liked. “All ready to go now love?” Kyle asks, giving you a kiss on the head. “Can I stand here and just smell your cologne a bit more?” you ask jokingly as you continue to sniff him. “You’ll have plenty of time to smell it once we get back, I promise,” he says.

Pleased with this deal, you pull away from him and the two of you head out to have what you considered your first “mystery date.” After a bit of driving, you see your first stop is what you assume to be a family-owned art supplies store. “We’re doing an art date, aren’t we?” you ask excitedly. It was something you had wanted to do for so long, and seeing Kyle surprise you like this made you happy that he remembered. “We are indeed! Now then, let’s get ourselves inside and get what we’ll need for the most important part of today’s date.” he says cheerfully. Kyle helps you out of the car and continues to hold your hand as you walk inside of the store. You’re amazed by everything inside, as there are paintings, sketches, and several other little art displays made by patrons and the owners themselves.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Kyle asks, chuckling softly at your amazement. “Yeah…and it smells so nice in here.” you say softly. “But does it smell better than me?” Kyle jokingly asks. “Nothing could ever smell as good as you.” you say, letting go of his hand and wandering off. Kyle stands there for a moment, a bit stunned despite the warm sensation in his heart before he follows after you. The two of you discuss whether or not to buy some watercolors alongside the sketchbooks that Kyle planned on purchasing for the both of you. “Have you tried using watercolors before?” you ask him. “I have, yeah. It’s a bit more tedious than I thought it’d be when I first tried it.” he says. “Would you be willing to let me teach you some more? I’m pretty good with watercolors myself, plus I think it’d be a fun way to bond some more.” you suggest.

Your lovely boyfriend then turns to you, the watercolor set still in his hands, “I reckon I’ll have to take you up on that then. Nothing better than getting to spend time with you.” Kyle says, giving you a wink. You fluster a bit, taking the set from him and putting it in the little basket you had grabbed. A bit more of looking around and gathering things you’ll need, the two of you then pay and make your way out and to what Kyle considered the most important part of your date: a museum that was the closest to your shared flat. Sketchbooks and pencils in hand, the two of you pay to enter the museum and begin your date sketching the various sculptures and paintings you see.

It definitely helps with your sense of perspective once again, as getting to see the bottom half of the sculpture gradually gets further and further away from you the larger it is. The shadows and highlights in the paintings also made for good practice in shading again while giving you that nagging question wondering why you had ever stopped focusing on it as much as you had. The two of you decided to fill up as many pages as you could before the museum closed, considering the two of you went a bit later in the day, heading out into the rain. “Tsk…typical England, am I right?” Kyle asks, making you laugh. “One learns to live with it,” you say as you carefully step further out to reach your hand out of the shelter of the porch of the museum and into the rain, “and thankfully it isn’t too hard. We’ll be able to make it to the car!”

Trusting you fully, Kyle then removes his coat and drapes it over you. “Even if the rain isn’t too bad, the cold definitely is. Let’s head home for a nice tea, yeah?” he suggests. Smiling and giving him a kiss on the cheek, you nod and the both of you quickly and safely make your way to the car. Kyle helps you in by opening the door and taking his coat off your back to put it in front of you to help you readjust to the cold interior of the car. Shivering a bit, you reach back and put your sketchbook into the backseat to make sure it didn’t get any more wet than it possibly was. Kyle then gets into the car and does the same before starting the car and letting it warm up.

“I had loads of fun today with you, Y/N. I’m so sorry that we can’t just have more of a normal life to do things like this more often.” Kyle apologizes, abruptly breaking the silence between you two. “Don’t be sorry. Whether you’re here or not I’ll always love any time I get to spend with you. Even if it’s something as simple as getting to just wander around a museum and sketching the things we see—any time I just get to have you makes me happy.” you say. Kyle smiles, leaning forward to gently cup your face with one hand before giving you a kiss. You kiss back, bringing a hand of your own up to caress his cheekbone with your thumb. “Let’s get home, I don’t want to risk you getting sick from the cold.” Kyle says once he pulls away.

You stare out the window a bit as you pass by the now dimly lit streets of England, watching the rain fall as it falls past the streetlights. The soft pitter patter combined with the lights and movement of the car relaxed you enough to cause you to fall asleep the way back home. Kyle glanced over at your sleeping form briefly, smiling softly to himself as he continued driving. Eventually arriving back at your shared flat, you’re carefully carried inside and woken up once you’re laid onto your shared bed. “Hm?” you hum softly as you come to, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. “We’re home. I’ll bring you your pajamas then help you to our room so you can get dressed. I just wanted to set you down real quick so you could try and sleep a bit longer while I got them.” Kyle says.

The amount of care in his voice makes you smile, reaching both your arms up to try and get him to embrace you. Kyle immediately clings to you carefully, rubbing your back and kissing your face all over. “I love you lots, Y/N…truly…I’ll be right back with those pajamas.” he says. You’re let go of and left alone for a moment as Kyle goes to the dryer and comes back with your pajamas. He made sure to warm them up a bit so you’d feel better after being in the cold rain earlier, and the amount of attention that Kyle put into caring for you showed you exactly why you stay with him despite him constantly being away. “You’re the absolute best boyfriend, Kyle. I really can’t express how much I love you but I wish I could…” you say sleepily.

Kyle flusters a bit and you just barely catch it, as you love the way his eyes just shine a little bit more than usual when he does. You yawn softly as you change into your pajamas; Kyle’s turned away completely from you so you don’t have to see him fluster again as you change in front of him. “Oh come on Kyle, you’re gonna see me naked someday. Maybe I could even let you sketch me nude for anatomy practice.” you tease. “I-I know that! It’s just…you know, rude of me to look at you without your permission…” he says, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. “I know, I’m just teasing! But do know, you most certainly always have permission to look at me when I’m changing.” you say. Kyle nods and sighs then gets his own pajamas and changes in another room, much to your dismay.

You liked when he took his shirt in front of you.

Kyle then steps back into your room and finds you laying down half asleep, the blanket resting halfway on top of your body. He smiles softly and turns the light in your room off before going to join you under the blanket. He readjusts it so it’s properly covering you and the action itself has you nuzzling up to him for extra warmth. Kyle chuckles softly, completely wrapping his arms around you. “Did the museum date really make you this tired, Y/N?” he asks. “Mhm…it was just so fun and relaxing…let’s do it again someday…” you mumble sleepily. “We will, I promise. Get some proper rest now.” Kyle says, kissing the top of your head as you nuzzle further into his chest.

[chatisthisfr]

sketches

Percy Jackson x FEM! Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none. Clarice is mean ig

Summary: You are Hephaestus's daughter. An artist. One day Clarice finds your sketch book and shows off a particular drawing that wasn't to be shared. and someone in particular was around to see it.

Your Pov

Mornings where your favorite, especially during the summertime. The beautiful camp lake was the best view that nothing could beat. Well it was also the best view because if you look to your left about 100 feet away was Percy Jackson, your crush sense you got here 3 months ago. He was practicing, but failing miserably, at archery. He was alone since it was pretty early so he didn't have anyone to accidentally shoot in the head with an arrow. you backed up against a tree and instead of facing toward the lake, you faced more towards Percy. I mean like not all the way so its obvious you're looking at him but, kind of angled. You grabbed your sketch book out of your little tote bag and grabbed a pencil. You knew it was risky. Someone could be watching and seeing you draw this sight. But who could resist. Percy did look pretty. He was falling pretty bad at archery bad but the sun was beaming on him just right. His eyes looked beautiful even from a distance. So you got to work. You quickly sketched a position he was in where he was carefully picking up his last arrow and looking up at the target with anticipation. you got the sketch down and started getting the details in and erasing certain guidelines. you took time with this drawing. making the shadings practically perfect. making every detail better than you've ever before. you weren't even thinking about it that much but there was just something about Percy's presence that made everything just feel easy.

After about an hour, your drawing was done. and not to be selfish but it was amazing. You where naturally a great artist because you where the daughter of Hephaestus. Craftsmanship and art came easy. But nothing this great has ever come from your own hands. You looked up to see where Percy was. If he was still shooting arrows or otherwise. And you did freak out when you realized said boy was coming closer to you. walking your way. and your sketch was out. Your eyes widen and you quickly turn to another page and pretend to be drawing a flower from the other day.

"Hey Y/N. Watchy'a drawing." Percy asks a sits next to you on the tree. "Oh just a flower. Kinda boring but I couldn't think of anything" I smile at him. "No it's beautiful." He points down at a certain spot. "That detail is really impressive." "Thank you. I was watching you uh do archery. I think you're getting better." I say, trying to hold back a slight laugh. "You don't have to lie it's al- wait you where watching me?" Percy says with a small smirk. my face heats up. "Wha- no that's not what I meant. I-I just glanced over there. It's not like that." "Hey hey chill I was just messing with you. " he smiles over at me. "Anyways it was nice talking. I have to get to a meeting real fast. Catch ya later." He said with a quick smile and a wave. "Alrighty bye." I wave back.

Percy didn't have a meeting. He was just so completely and utterly mesmerized by your beauty that he thought if he was there for another second he would go insane. Though, truthfully, Grover did ask for Percy to talk to him about something Percy didn't know what though.

Percy's pov

i made my way to Grover in the dinning area for some late breakfast. I knew he would be in here because well Grover never passes up a good meal. I open up the door and find him there and I make my way over to him. "Hey man, so what was it that you wanted to talk about?" I ask him as I sit across from him at a table. "I know your secret" ".....What secret?" Really, I didn't have any secrets with grover......Except my crus-"I know who you like." oh crap. "What do you mean? I don't like anyone. That's crazy grover." "Oh really? Because when you look at Y/N L/N with those longing eyes, I can tell that that's not true." He smirks at me. Just the mention of her name has got me nervous. And he can definitely tell I'm lying when I say I don't like her. "Oh come on, Percy. You don't have to deny it. You are pretty obvious." "I AM?! DOES SHE KNOW?!" Grover calmly shushes me. "Chill chill. If she didn't already she will now. wow man that was loud." I glared at him "That's not funny, Grover." He laughs "It was a little funny come on." "No but seriously, do you think she knows?" I look at him with a worried expression. "Luckily, no. I think literally everyone else knows but you two are some of the most oblivious people I know" I thought about what he said...and then It hit me. "Wait what do you mean you two? As in also Y/N?" Grover looked nervous for a moment. "Ummm nothing I meant to just say you." Grover was a terrible liar. I knew he was hiding something but I just let it be for now. "Okay. So was this the only thing you had to say?" "Uh yeah yeah that was it." "Alright then. I'm gonna get going. get on with my day"

with that, the two boys separated and they did go on with there day. It was a beautiful day and very relaxing. nothing was really planned so everyone just did there own thing. It wasn't until the bonfire after dinner that things got interesting.

Clarisse pov

Y/N L/N was never on my list. She never did anything great but she never really did anything wrong. But how can I help it when I find out valuable information about someone and not make something out of it. She was out practicing in a field. when I found this information. many people where in this field so it was hard for her to focus on her bag that was strewn over a bench far away from where she was practicing. It was hanging out and I saw a page folded over, presumably so she could come back to it. I found something on that page that I was never expecting but man Could I use this information greatly.

Your pov

I made my way down to the bonfire after dinner. We didn't have these every night but it was kind of a boring day so we decided to have one. I sat down and took my sketch book out and sketch the fire. I had been sitting there for a bit and suddenly my sketch book was snatched out of my hands. "Hey wha-" "Come on Y/N. Come and get it." It was Clarisse. She was taller than me so she used this for her advantage. "Clarisse please give it back." I asked her. "Aw why? Huh.. are you hiding something in here." "Hey come on Clarisse. give it back to her. I looked over and saw Percy. "Percy Jackson. You are just the right person to come over here to help little Y/N." she smirked down at him. "What do you mean Clarisse?" Clarisse flips to a page, with her hands still up in the air. She brings the book down and shows Percy. His eyes widen and I know exactly what she's showing him. I quickly took my sketch and run away. I run to the lake. The same place from this morning but only its dark. The stars shine against the water. I bring my knees up to my chest and sit in my thoughts.

after a few minutes I hear rustling behind me. I assume it's an animal so I don't think about it much but when I hear it again but closer I turn around. Percy. I quickly whip my head back to where I was looking earlier. Not daring to look at him again. "Hey" I hear him say. I don't say anything back. "Hmm we've found ourselves here twice today." He laughs. I can tell he's trying to lighten the mood. I give a small laugh just so he knows I'm alive. "Um so I'm sorry about what Clarisse did. That wasn't fair of her. But the drawing it was-" "Please don't. I don't want your pity. Look, I know it's stupid that I like you. You probably have like ten million girls begging to be with you and i'm just another one. I know all of that so you don't have to feel sorry for-""the drawing was good. I was a great drawing Y/N. I don't think I've ever seen anything like it and you know why it's so amazing? Because It was made by you. You make it ten times more special. I-I like you too. That fact that you made that drawing makes my stomach do flips. I'm thrilled that you drew that." I sit there in silence for a minute. "You..Like me?" "Yes Y/N yes I like you so can I please do this thing that I've been wanting to do since the day I met you? Please let me kiss you." My eyes widen. I nod my head. and he pulls me in.

My day started great and ended great and I can't believe i'm saying this but..Thanks Clarisse!

[accio-victuuri]

Like The Sunshine creation timeline.

( this will include facts and cpn ) ☀️

Last 11.30 - 12.2 WYB participated in the Wuzhen Theater Festival and lots of people were able to photograph him there. He was thought to be there as a friend/guest since one of his co-stars in Nameless is an organizer of the event. Interestingly, Chen Zihao (choreographer) had a show there that ran from 11.25 - 11.27. Even if there was no way for WYB to watch the production, CZH and the team who did the stage design KINOi could still be there for the rest of the festival. This show, “29” was mentioned in his post for Yibo and was the same one shown in Wuzhen.

At this point, he probably already had bits of LTS song and needed people to help him perform it. Maybe someone showed him what 29 looked like or he is already familiar with CZH and his work. Meeting CZH and people from KINOi might not be his main reason to attend WZTF, but since they were there, it’s the best time to talk about this project. He must have wanted to see the actual show but his schedule will not allow it.

There is a common cpn/assumption among turtles that WYB did not stay at Wuzhen on 11/30 but rather met with GG at @ Amanfayun hotel at Hangzhou. I personally am very wary of people talking about them meeting in different places especially with the covid restrictions. but it’s very close and in the same area. My only problem here is that there were a lot of people following Yibo around Wuzhen as soon as he arrived. Tho 11/30, people were still surprised that he did come and then more people went there the next day/s to see him. So I feel like, someone might have noticed and “reported” if he left. From what I understand, his hotel at Wuzhen was crowded too but maybe that was in the latter days. I know WYB has the means to slip out and hide if he wants but let’s treat this as fake. Even if they didn’t meet in person, they could probably be already talking about his single.

12/6 was when ZZ was photographed arriving in Chonqing with his lion-strapped bag and an IPAD. He was holding it because his bag was too small but like, he usually uses small bags. If you see those airport photos, he doesn’t hold his IPAD. Turtles went on maximum clowning spotting it cause it’s already the month of WYB’s single release. ZZ was probably working on some sketches of what they talked about. 12/16, WYB was back in Beijing and allegedly recorded the song on 12/17. GG was also already in Beijing at this time, so it’s possible that GG was there when he recorded. After that he practiced his live stage for 10 days ( allegedly ). 12/29, he left Beijing for Shanghai for rehearsals.

So to sum up, WYB participated in the drama festival and found a choreography team and visual studio suitable for his new song stage and shared this with ZZ that night. After it was finalized, ZZ acted as Party A together with him to review the manuscript. The stage elements that are finally presented are based on their common intentions. The album art and other design elements are claimed but that doesn’t mean WYB came in those meetings empty handed. So yeah. Power Couple working together. I think the reason why turtles love to CPN that ZZ helps in some ways for WYB’s singles is that it’s a personal project. Their dramas and movies are all professional and they have their own process for that. The yearly song tho is more hands-on and a way for them to collaborate secretly. 🤍

"After a long period of loneliness and wandering, I met you, and you brought home."

-END. / source /

[allyendergirl]

Just saw a TikTok about the time in the Justice League show Superman got that weird “makes you experience your greatest wish in a dream” plant on his chest and it focused about Kal’s relationship with his fake son Van, and now I need to hc about it.

Here is the vid ⬇️

Clark picks up drawing a few months after the incident because he can’t get Van out of his mind, and it hurts to only have memories of this dream son. So over the course of a year whenever he can, Clark practices realism and semi realism portraits with Van as his muse. Decides that semi realism is better because technically Van was never real in the first place.

He has hundreds, maybe even thousands of drawings of Van, even makes portraits of them sitting together in their kryptonian garb. He draws Van’s first steps, he draws the first time he held Van in his arms from his pov, and all the other memories he can remember and think of with Van.

Eventually the art therapy that he’s been inadvertently working through starts to work. Through art he sees Van live again, through art he makes Van real, through art he gets to experience memories with his son, even if those memories are from a short time, or are even all together made up for an original scene. He begins to let go because he has all he needs of his son now. The last portrait Clark thinks he’ll make of Van is sometime after Clark starts taking responsibility for Kon. He draws himself, Lois, Kon, and Van together as a family, Van being older than Kon. An adult.

It isn’t until Jon is born that he starts thinking about Van a lot more. It starts off with holding Jon for the first time, and the memory of holding Van flashes before his eyes when Jon reaches out for his finger. The scene that Clark created of Van’s first steps hangs over Clark when he watches Jon’s first steps, so on and so forth. It bubbles over when playing outside with Jon, Clark keeps seeing flashes of Van in Jon. He has go inside and take over making dinner so Lois can watch Jon because it’s too much for him. So Clark picks his pencils back up and starts drawing again, it takes about a month to get fully back into his style, but draws and he draw and he draws. He draws Jon and Van playing together as kids, he draws them together with Van being his real age and playing with Jon, he superimposes Van into some of his memories of Jon. He feels guilty about that, so he doesn’t do it often.

But one day his secrets gets out to the boys. Lois knows partially what Clark draws about. She only see what Clark shows her, which isn’t a lot, but he has told her what he draws about, he’s told her about his experience… “meeting” Van. But the boys don’t know about that. So when Kon pages through a sketch book Clark left out on the table and sees and family portrait he never posed for with an added member to the family he’s never seen in his life, he has questions. Reasonable, innocent questions. Jon quickly comes over to look at what Kon found and has similar questions.

“Dad, who’s that?” Jon asks.

Clark is confused for a second by what his son means until he turns around and his stomach drops. There at the table Kon and Jon are looking at a big family portrait he’d just finished, rather puzzledly. It had his mother and father, Ma and Pa, Lois and Clark, Jon and Kon, and of course Van. Van’s standing behind Clark but in front of his mother and father to his right. Lois is sitting next to him with Ma and Pa standing behind them off to his left. Kon and Jon sit at Clark’s and Lois’s feet.

“This is really cool, who drew this?” Kon tries, since Clark has still yet to answer Jon. Clark is still panicking.

“Um, I drew that,” Clark manages to blubber out.

“Wow dad, I didn’t know you could draw like that. But who is that?” Jon points at Van. “Is he another kryptonian relative? Why haven’t you mentioned him?”

“Um, because he… we’ll never technically existed.” Clark says with a sorrow in his eyes.

The boys look at each other and go quiet. Clark sighs and sits down, taking the portrait into his hands and looking at it. He still needs to set the picture so it doesn’t smudge.

“Back when the Justice League was still newer and there were only its founding members. We had a run in with Darkside. He used this, plant creature thing to incapacitate me, and a few other members of the League. This creature, when it gets a hold of you, makes you go into a dream like state and experience the life you always wanted, a life that you could only dream about. Mine was to have a family on Krypton. I had a son in that dream, his name was Van-El. And I loved him very much. Just as much as I love you two. I had memories of raising him, when I first held him, when he first flew, taking him to school, having holiday dinners with all of my kryptonian relatives. It all felt so real, to me it was real. And then Batman was able to get the creature off me and it all came to an end. I felt like I had lost everything all over again, but it wasn’t until after we defeated Darkside that I even realized I felt that way. That I realized that I had lost my son. And it truly felt like that. I felt the exact same way when Kon died. I promised myself I would never forget him. And so I took up drawing, portraiture and scenes from everyday life. It served as therapy. Through art I could live through moments with Van that I would never have, and I could “relive” the moments I remember with him. I thought I drew my last portrait with him a little after I took Kon under my wing. It was a portrait with me Kon and Van. Van was an adult, maybe five years older than Kon. But after Jon was born, I just saw so much of Van in him. And it hurt, so I took up drawing again when he was around 4 and haven’t stopped since. Over the years I have refound my peace with Van-El never having existed, but I still like to draw him, especially with my real family.” Clark looks up from the portrait and smiles sadly and lovingly at his two boys.

Jon looks moved to tears and dives to hug his father tightly. Lois comes up behind him and places a hand on his shoulder, leaning to place a kiss on his head. Kon walks around them and peels Clark’s hand away from Jon to squeeze tightly.

“That must’ve been so hard,” Jon coos in his shoulder. Clark himself starts to tear up.

“It was, but I got through it. And I have two beautiful boys that I can see and talk to and hold everyday, which is something I would never trade away for any other life.”

“Glad to hear it,” Kon smiles, Clark manages to smile back. Jon squeezes him hard one last time and straightens up to wipe his tears, sniffling.

“Can we see your other drawings of him?”

Clark smiles, “I’ll have to unbox them from storage at the Fortress, and there’s a lot of them. But sure, you can start with this one though,” Clark hands over his sketchbook to Jon and Kon squeezes Clark’s hand one more time before sitting next to Jon to peruse the book.

[eiseryn]

2023 Art Summary

I can't believe 2023 is almost over and it's been a whole year! These past few months have passed by in a blur and so I feel like I'm barely holding on 😭 I had a lot of time to draw in the beginning of last year but considerably less time now...

But overall, I'm really proud of my progress as an artist this year! I had more time to draw than usual so I honed some skills and worked on some things this year! You can tell from the first Lei and the last Lei I drew XD I learned how to use filters XD to blend the character into the background!

You can also see that I started the year with Nova (Feb-Apr) and then it became Lei in my fave pieces after LMAOOO. Seriously, the last 4 months just being Vail and Lei alternates is so funny to me XD. This year was truly the year of Lei. I suspect 2024 will also be the year of Lei with vis novel development XD

Going through the months:

January: First illustration of Lei back when the campaign first started. She was supposed to be a cold b*tch but uh... that did not happen. She turned out to be a soft and sweet girl, which also reflects in my later art of her. I still want to revisit girlboss Lei though cuz the shots she took in the campaign were like 😳😳😳

February: Pink Valentines Nova~ Nova is a blue girl but soft pink Nova hits differently. I think this art was cute and I love all the heart elements I put in! (Like in her eyes~)

March: Bubble tea Nova! This was my business card for the first art market I sold stickers at! <-- artist feat of the year? Otherwise didn't draw much art this month XD I was stressed out about my first art market. SOMEONE AT THE MARKET SAW THIS ART, ASKED IF IT WAS MY VTUBER MODEL, AND THEN TOLD ME I SHOULD BECOME A VTUBER. The best compliment I got about this art XD I will remember it forever.

April: Idol Nova… technically I drew it in May but shhh the sketch was done in April. I did this because I did some bday karaoke and this was the piece I got inspired to make after having so much fun there! Here is where I started learning how to use filters to help blend the character into the background!

May: Mermaid Merrow for Mermay! This is the only Mermay piece I did but it remains one of my top art pieces this year… just all the colours are so gorgeous in this one + the BG I'm proud of! I did not post it on tumblr cuz I started posting on tumblr in Aug... LOL. But anyways it's gorgeous and took me like 2-3 days.

June: Bad art month… it was between this and the Leticia sketch I made. I ended up with this one even though I don't like it as much as the sketch because it was at least a fully rendered piece with a background and everything... I don't like the face in it, but I worked hard on the hands! (One of my weaknesses) so there's that! Sometimes it's the little things you're proud of.

July: I really like this outfit I drew for Lei! It's the one I use for refs for her now XD I'm also particularly proud of this one cuz it's a fullbody and it's hard to draw fullbody pieces... But also I just think her outfit looks really good here! And I love how dead and tired her eyes look XD which is her mood by the time she got this outfit during the campaign.

August: It was really hard to pick for August because I had two really good pieces... (actually 3 it turns out) but I picked this one in the end because I think the artist composition was just really good. There are parts I don't like about it anymore, but the lighting was good! And I'm proud I drew all her friends in this too XD the pieces of her heart -- as this art piece is called.

September: Made a GIF of disappearing Vail! Not my first GIF I've made but I like how it turned out + I'm especially proud of the background XD It's not great but I put some effort into it. I could have worked on his pose a little more... but I don't have many good Sept pieces 😭

October: Spent too much effort on a meme. But really proud of the hand and lighting. Especially drawing the cyberpunk lighting cuz that's hard... Also yeah I think I spent close to an hour sketching the hand/ making the hand look decent XD So of course this piece is the one I choose. I also worked on making the BG look decent... and Vail's backview was hard... man... I spent a long time on this piece XD

November: Yandere Vail 😳😳😳 One of the hottest Vail pieces I've drawn and it's for a mafia AU Vail LMAO. I used a reference for this XD which is why the pose looks good.

December: Most recent piece! Had to finish the year with Lei cuz we started with Lei~ This one is a modern AU Lei so it can't quite compare to Lei's canon cyberpunk universe but still~ You can definitely see improvement in my art! Or so I'd like to think. I used a reference for the pose (kind of) and also used a picture for the BG. I'm going to do that a lot next year LMAO just take pics and use them as BGs XD Work smart not hard, right?

Runner-Ups

They're all from Aug + Dec LOL… my most productive art months this year XD

Aug 2: Flash piece! I didn't post this on tumblr either... but it is my former best boy from the campaign (Former b/c Vail took his place LMAO he's too sketchy now). I used a reference for his pose so it turned out pretty good in my opinion? I also like the lighting I did for him! I forgot his earrings though... and his necklace... oops... I'll fix that for the vis novel (cope) -- I do want this to be a CG you get from the vis novel XD cuz I think it looks good XD

Aug 14: Pink Neon Nights - First Vail x Lei piece 🥺😳🥺😳 I gotta admit the hand looks hella funky for Lei BUTTTT I am in love with Vail's smile here 🥺🥺🥺 His fangs and I like how I designed his hoodie~ Plus I like the pink neon lighting from the bar they're at~

Dec 21: Nova's birthday piece~ I hadn't drawn a full illustration for her since August so this piece turned out super good. For some reason her hair became more and more grey as the years passed in the way I drew her XD She's supposed to have white hair with grey tips (oxidation???) But UHMMM I think it's hard to do highlights on white hair so I've been making her hair more and more grey as time passes XD but her hair is white, guys.

Dec 22: Lei's Happy Holidays Card - TBH I don't like how her face turned out here, BUT I like her pose and the way I did her clothing folds XD and I put effort into the BG so there's lots of other elements on this piece I like~

And of course, my most popular piece this year was worm on a string Nova.

A classic TBH. She is still so sad and gorgeous in this piece XD I made it into a sticker to put on my laptop! :)

To more years of art and art improvement! ✨ To a 2024 filled with more self-indulgent OC art ✨ Happy New Year!