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verysium · 4 months

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how bllk boys would react when u draw them, could either be rlly good or rlly SHIT u choose idk (plz include barou and the itoshi bros) 😊😊😊 i love you and ur works, and the way u write the boys and ur content makes me laugh fr, one of my fave bllk authors mwjahaja 😓 have a great day, ily:3 and the icks post made me smile like all of ur posts do!

thank you so much anon ♡ this ask had me contemplating very seriously, so apologies if it's a bit late:

sae is definitely awestruck in some way, even if he doesn't immediately show it. i think i talked about this in a previous headcanon, but he has a deep-seated admiration for artists who can grasp abstract concepts because he himself cannot. he would be somewhat flattered if you drew him since he's never considered his own appearance to be particularly inspiring. would be appalled if you considered him your muse. like....why? to him, his looks aren't anything of importance (clearly he is blind.) would probably say your drawing was inaccurate but then hang it up by his nightstand so he can look at it every night before he goes to sleep. if you're a full-time artist, he probably keeps a little stash of your gifts in a small box beneath his bed. sometimes if he's having a bad day or he lost a game, he goes back and flips through them just to make himself feel better. secretly loves the way you draw his bangs and the little swoop you do in your signature.

kaiser corrects every single detail in your drawing. stands behind you and gives you little pointers here and there. he should have an 8-pack, not a 6-pack. his jawline isn't sharp enough in your initial sketch. poses shirtless in front of you so that way you can encapsulate the full extent of his sexiness. shows off your drawing to every living creature in existence. "isn't he handsome?" like...🙄 yeah, michael we know. he's probably the hardest to draw because of his tattoo, so i think he genuinely appreciates it when you put in the effort to capture his intricacies. will never admit this but he's low-key proud of you and your talent (mostly just your ability to make him look good.)

rin is one of those people who doesn't understand hyperrealism. like why does he need a highly detailed sketch of his face when he can just take a photo and print it out? i don't think he understands art in general. probably despises modern art too. he'd take one look at a rothko painting and be like....i could draw this too...in my sleep. similar to sae, i feel like he's just numb to the sentimentality of gift-giving. doesn't understand why you would waste your time drawing a little picture of him, but it does make his heart feel strangely fuzzier, so maybe he'll keep it this one time. lo and behold, months later he now has a collection of your drawings he doesn't have the heart to throw away. refuses to let isagi or anyone see them because they're meant for his eyes only.

yukimiya has impeccable taste. in fact, he's probably an artist himself. i think it'd be cute if you both drew little sketches of each other throughout the course of your relationship. but neither of you ever knew until you gifted him your sketchbook for christmas, and he was like....guess what...i drew you too. thinks you're pretty even when you don't think so. sometimes when you're having a coffee shop date, he scribbles a portrait of you on his napkin because the sunlight hit your cheek just right in that moment, and the birds were chirping, and he fell in love all over again. i think it's also tragic that he's slowly losing his eyesight, so he won't be able to enjoy your drawings and the vibrant colors you infuse into them. that's why he treasures them even more. probably thumbs over the pages from time to time. memorizes every stroke and line.

isagi likes the way you always draw that little tuft of hair that sticks up on the top of his head. it looks like a cute little bean sprout. he pins your drawings up above his bed next to a polaroid of you two in germany. buys you a professional art set for your birthday. if you're a digital artist, he buys you a new tablet and stylus.

bachira adds his own doodles next to yours except he makes a chibi version of everything. always pesters you to include his little fangs. uses the boldest combination of colors. he would definitely be a messy artist. paint everywhere. fingernails perpetually stained a different color. you both draw during class, so when you two trade notebooks to actually study......there aren't any actual notes.

barou acts like he doesn't know what to do with your drawing of him but then the next day you visit his house, and he's already put your artwork in a fancy picture frame. refuses to let anyone else even stand within a ten meter radius next to it because he doesn't want their "nasty fingerprints" all over your beautiful masterpiece.

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thelovelyruin · 6 months

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𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖉𝖔𝖓𝖓𝖆.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘 : choso x fem reader

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖚𝖓 : you’re choso’s girl, and he makes sure to give you anything you want.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖔𝖔𝖓 : smut, love, porn with plot, vaginal sex, praise, teasing, fingering.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖔𝖙 : 3.6K

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗 : inspired by lyrics from primandonna by marina and the diamonds.

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖘𝖘 : hello lovelies, thank you so much for reading! i hope you enjoy it; if so, follow me for more. au revoir!

18+ MDNI ADULT CONTENT

Primadonna girl, all I ever wanted was the world…

“Chosooooo…”

“Yes, princess?”

“I want it real bad!”

“That one?”

“Yeah, that one!”

“No problem, baby.”

When you and Choso originally came to the mall, it was to get a dress you saw in one of the catalogs that gets mailed to your place. You’d been excited all week, having to wait til the weekend to get it ‘cause that’s when it released. You were one of the first ones there, trying it on and walking out on the runway in the store. Choso was enamored with you, especially when you did poses at the end, obviously playing around, but nonetheless, he had it bagged for you and paid for by the time you got dressed again. Even though you knew he would get it for you, you were still really grateful, kissing him as he took the bag from the counter.

You’d decided to wear a pink tracksuit combo that day, a cropped jacket and shirt, and lowrise pants to show off your belly button ring. You wore your hair up in a ponytail, a couple of strands let out, and a cute pair of earrings. Then there were your bangles, clinking against your wrist as you walked in your pink Amiri’s. You called it “athleisure but way cuter!” (not like you were actually going to the gym), but despite what you wore, Choso thought you looked damn good.

I can't help that I need it all!

You and Choso have been together for about three years; it was pretty much love at first sight, at least for him. When he’d first seen you, it was in a magazine feature their team had gotten, getting a couple of models to take pics on the cars; you’d worn this cute top and shorts that left little to the imagination. Yuuji had given the magazine to him at a meet since he hadn’t gone to the photoshoot himself. When he landed on the page with you on it, Yuuji said:

“Dude, she’s a babe. She’s done a couple of shoots, but this was the first for our team. Just had to pick her; I mean, just look at those-”

“Look at my what Yuuji?”

You were standing in front of them now, manicured finger bringing the page down to look them in the eyes. Yuuji choked on his spit as Choso got flustered seeing you in person for the first time. You’d look past them and at the car they were sitting on, a G80 M3 with a candy purple wrap.

“Ooooo! This is so cute! Who’s is it?”

Yuuji pointed at Choso, who awkwardly smiled and gave you a little wave. You walked over to him, arms crossed as you looked into his eyes. Shamelessly, he looked you up and down, eyes landing back on your face as you smirked.

“And who are you?”

“Choso, nice to meet you.”

“Of course it is! Nice car, too bad I couldn’t shoot on it.”

You were a spicy one, but fuck, you were sexy.

“You can if you want to.”

You’d walked up to him, face inches from his as you looked up at him. Yuuji took that as his cue to leave, patting Choso’s hand as he walked off.

“Depends, do you want me to?”

“What I want is to take you out.”

“Yeah?”

“Definitely. Let me pick you up on Friday.”

“Hmm, I’ll think about it!”

You say that I'm kinda difficult, but it's always someone else's fault!

You’d walked away from him, leaving him licking his lips as you left. He’d seen you around for the rest of the night, talking to a couple of the other girls, then taking turns with them to flag for the races. Before Choso left for the night, he’d looked for you, but you had already left. He sighed in defeat and walked back to his car, but before he got in, he caught something under his windshield wiper—a napkin with your lipstick print, and your phone number right above it.

Choso did take you out that Friday, picking you up and taking you out for dinner, a little bowling after. He’d fucked your brains out that night, and you two were pretty much inseparable since then. Before you came along, Choso won a few races a month, then bought a dealership; pretty well off but didn’t have a lot of things to spend it on. But you had plenty. After about three months, he’d moved you out of your place and into his apartment downtown, bringing your cat with you. He’d gotten you a C6 convertible, of course, gloss pink wrap with custom cheetah print seats, which you’d drive to and from Pilates and Starbucks, always coming home to kiss him as he spoke to the employees at the dealership. You’d cook him a nice dinner and snuggle up to him at night, a true love story.

Choso fucking loved you and, as a result, had a thing for praising you. Friends would say he kisses the ground you walk on, but he tells them no. He makes out with it. You were his and loved it, wearing a little silver chain with his name on it, him having a tattoo of your initials behind his ear. He’d send you on trips while he went out of state to race, often to fashion weeks, always coming back with quite the list. Like that time you’d come home from Milan, and you just had to have that sparkly Versace dress you saw.

Choso got you everything you wanted, no matter the cost or size. That is until now.

Got you wrapped around my finger, babe; you can count on me to misbehave!

“Baby, you already have that one.”

“Yeah, but not in pink! I got it last year in white before the new drop, so now I just have to have it!”

You looked up at him with puppy-dog eyes, which usually worked, but this time, he genuinely didn’t see a purpose in getting the same bag twice.

“It’s a no, princess. Sorry.”

Unfortunately for him, you were a fucking brat. Not that you couldn’t take no for an answer, but you weren’t gonna be happy about it. You’d walked off from him now, him tailing you to make sure you were okay. You’d walked into another store, real sweet to the attendant that walked up to help, but rolling your eyes at Choso as you looked through the racks.

“Princess…”

“Yes?”

“You’re acting like a brat.”

“Whatever do you mean? I’d like to try these on, please.”

Would you do anything for me?

With that, you walked away, the attendant opening the dressing room for you two as Choso sat the bags down. You’d put the dresses on the hangers as Choso took a seat on the bench in the room. Swiftly, you took off your jacket, hanging it on the door hook and taking off your pants, your shirt following. And what did you have on? One of those pretty lace sets he’d gotten you a month or so ago, a gift for your anniversary. You were wearing probably the only set he hasn’t fucked you in. You weren’t oblivious, taking extra time to get up from the floor while undressing. Choso felt pretty courageous, pulling you back into his lap as you gasped at the sudden motion. He spread your legs over his thighs, keeping your legs open as his hand walked itself down to your panties, which Choso rubbed through the fabric, making you squirm a bit. He brought his mouth to the side of your face, whispering in your ear as his other hand pinched your nipple through your bra.

“You’re pretty damn wet, princess. Want me to help you with that?”

“Mhm!”

“Gonna stop acting like a brat so I can eat your pussy?”

“Yes, baby, please!”

“My pleasure.”

Would you get down on your knees for me?

Choso set you up on the bench as he sat on the floor, pulling your panties off and gently sitting them down next to you. You met his gaze as he spread your legs, kissing the skin of your thighs as you bit your lip in anticipation. He chuckled a bit as he kissed the outside of your lips, excited to taste that familiar sweetness he’d indulge in every day if he could. Teasing you, he licked lightly into your slit, tongue barely grazing your pussy as you sat there whimpering. He’d brought his face back up, signaling you to quiet down as he tasted you. You shut your mouth, groaning into your hand as he began eating your pussy. He’d make it quick today, on a time crunch, before the attendant returned to check on you. He’d brought his face deeper into you, fucking his tongue into you as you gripped his hair. He’d heard you moaning his name into your hand, smiling into your pussy as you closed your eyes to center yourself from all the pleasure. With that, he decided to mess with you a bit. He took his tongue off you, replacing it with his fingers, you groaning from the lack and returning pleasure.

I know I've got a big ego; I really don't know why it's such a big deal, though!

“Move your hand.”

Hesitantly, you moved it, trying to moan as quietly as possible as his thumb rubbed your clit, the others pumping inside of you.

“That’s a good girl. How ya feelin’ baby?”

“So good, Choso…”

“Yeah? You like it when I fuck you here?”

“Yessss…”

His fingers had found that sweet spot inside you, throwing your head back as your body arched forward.

“God, you’re so fuckin beautiful, you know that?”

“So sexy, even when you’re pissed at me.”

“Look at you, lookin’ pretty as you fuck my fingers.”

All the praise was driving you mad. You brought your hand to your mouth, bracing yourself for the impending orgasm. Instead, choso brought his hand up to your mouth, pulling his body upward to kiss the side of your face as he pumped relentlessly inside of you, feeling you almost screaming his name into his hand.

“You’re so pretty when you cum, you know that? Let me see that pretty face. Cum for me, baby.”

With that, you lost it, body jerking onto his fingers as you moaned his name over and over into his hand. He replaced his hand with his lips, feeling you groan into his mouth as you came down. He kissed his way back down, putting your panties back on as you sat there panting, recovering from your high. Smiling, he brought his lips to your again, pulling away to get a good look at you.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, princess.”

Choso wiped your juices off his face, watching you fix your lipgloss. Damn, you were-

“Ma’am, you okay in there?”

When you give, I want more, more, more!

You opened the door, body adorned with one of the dresses you picked out, as you stepped out and did a spin.

“Do I look good in this dress?”

“Beautiful, ma’am!”

“Great, I’ll take it!”

After you got dressed and the attendant checked you out, she gave a wave and smile to both of you as you left the store. You held tight onto Choso’s arm, smiling up at him as he guided you towards the mall parking lot. He’d opened the car door for you, sitting you inside as he put the bags in the backseat. Starting the car, he looked over at you.

“Ready to go home, baby?”

“Actually, can we get ice cream first?”

I wanna be adored!

Get what I want 'cause I ask for it, not because I'm really that deserving of it!

Choso always went all out for your birthday, going above and beyond to make your day special. He’d started the morning by getting a private chef to come up to the apartment to make you breakfast. Before that could happen, though, he was having trouble getting you out the bed, especially with how you’d woke him up.

“Choso…”

“Yeah, baby?”

“Wanna fuck you, can we?”

Usually, he’d be more than happy to feel your pussy first thing in the morning, but you two had overslept (or, as you called it, beauty sleep), and the chef was gonna be there in the next 45 minutes, which you’d take the whole time to get ready.

“Want to, baby, promise, but your first surprise is about to get here soon; go start getting ready.”

When you’d heard surprise, you’d pretty much forgotten about morning sex, instantly hopping out the bed to start getting ready. You were so excited for your birthday that you got your hair curled the day before, lashes too; they were the finishing touch after you’d done your makeup. You decided on a cute pink tennis dress to match your pink Dolce sneakers, holding off on dressing up until later this evening. With a couple of sprays of perfume and a little gloss, you were ready just in time for the chef.

When you were done eating, you looked up to Choso, waiting to see what came next. He gave you a kiss and a smile, walking you to the living room, a bunch of boxes wrapped in pink paper on the middle of the floor. You squealed as you ran and sat down, waiting for him to come over.

“Oh, baby, you’re too sweet!”

“No problem, princess.”

You went through your gifts: a couple of pairs of heels he’d seen you looking at on Pinterest, one of those new hairdryers you saw on TikTok, jewelry, lingerie, the usual stuff. You’d give him a kiss between every present; lips probably had more gloss than yours did at this point. Some of the stuff you’d try on and walk around in like you were modeling, like the Chanel sunnies he’d gotten you. It always made him so happy; he could tell you loved every single one. You’d always take care of anything he’d gotten you, everything down to the first thing he’d gotten you, a sterling anklet you’d found online. After two years time, the chain snapped, and you had quite the fit. You’d been sad for days. Unfortunately, he couldn’t fix it, but he’d been there for you to reassure you that even though it broke, his love for you wouldn’t.

As you closed the final box, you wrapped him in your arms and kissed his cheek repeatedly, making him giggle as he almost fell over.

“Got one more thing for you, baby.”

Choso walked to the room, returning with a box with a big bow on the top. You looked at him skeptically, intrigued that this gift had been separated from the others. Still, you took it as he handed it to you, setting it on the couch next to him as you opened it. There was a layer of paper on it, followed by a simple dust bag, presumably to hide what was underneath it. Before you opened it, you looked up at him; he nodded to you to finish unboxing it. You slowly opened the dust bag, pulling-

“BABY, OH MY GOD, OH MY GOD!”

Choso had gotten you the pink version of the Vivienne Westwood bag you’d seen at the mall! You pounced at him as he smiled and braced himself for impact.

“You like it, baby?”

“I like it? I like it? I LOVE IT!”

Going up, going down, down, down!

You’d put your lips on his now as he brought a hand around you to sit the bag down gently. You completely straddled him, body pressing to his as you made out with him. He’d brought his hands to your ass, bringing your hips closer to him as you kissed him deeper. You’d pulled away, looking at him with half-lidded eyes, biting your lips.

“Baby?”

“Yeah, princess?”

“Wanna show you how grateful I am.”

“Yeah, how you gonna do that?”

“You're gonna take me back to the room so I can-”

Choso cut you off, throwing you over his shoulder as you playfully slapped his back, him slapping your ass next to his head. When he got you to the room, he laid you down quickly, taking off your sneakers and outfit; hate to mess up such a cute dress with cum stains, ya know? He’d removed his clothes, lifting your body to sit on the bed so you rested your head on the pillows.

Anything for the crown, crown, crown!

Choso brought his lips to yours, kissing you softly and then rushing down to your tits, making you laugh. He’d wrapped his lips around your nipple, looking up at you as he rubbed his hands up and down your body, tickling you slightly.

“You like that, baby?

“Hmm, maybe…I think your lips would feel wayyy better somewhere else.”

“Oh yeah? Suddenly, I’m really hungry.”

He brought his body down in between your thighs, in one motion, bringing your thighs up to your chest, spreading you open for him. You whimpered when his tongue found your pussy, holding your legs firm as he fucked his tongue into you. Choso was having a lot of fun, seeing you squirm in the position you were in as he all but devoured your pussy. He let all of your juices spread his face, anything to taste more and more of you. When he started sucking your clit? You went nuts. You moaned his name over and over, gripping the shits as you were able to be as loud as you wanted. You felt that fire growing inside you as his nose rubbed against your clit, tongue sinking further and further, exploring you as you fell out above him.

“Baby…”

“Baby, I’m about to cum!”

“Baby, fuck, I-”

You came for him, closing your thighs out of reflex, nearly suffocating him. He brought his face up, letting your legs down, smiling down at you as you tried to catch your breath. Choso was pretty damn cocky. He knew that his tongue sent you flying, having to center yourself as you came down. He brought his body over yours, kissing the side of your face as you came to.

“You okay, princess?”

When the lights dim down, down, down, I spin around!

In one fall swoop, you flipped Choso over, straddling his waist as you brought yourself down on his dick. He was gone, shocked at how fast you’d maneuvered but also from how fucking good you felt. He brought his hands to your hips, fixing his legs so he could fuck into you. You were on top of the world, literally. He was thrusting into you rapidly, one hand on your tit, the other holding your ass as he slammed you down on his dick. Fuck, you two were in love. Bodies sweating against each other, both getting turned on by the other's face, flustered and fucked out as you brought your bodies against each other. You’d shifted your hips slightly so he could fuck into you at that angle that made you scream his name.

“Princess, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”

“Choso, fuck, right there, don’t stop!”

Got you wrapped around my finger, babe…

He was hellbent on making you cum on top of him; he could make you cum in missionary or doggy style later, but right now? He couldn’t get enough of your face, lips quivering and eyes forced shut as you tried to hold on to any sort of balance you had.

“Princess..”

“Mhm?”

“Look at me.”

Hesitantly, you looked in his eyes, knowing at that point you were about to cum. You were completely self-indulgent, and Choso loved it; you’d brought your body forward, resting on your hands on either side of his head as he fucked into you. Shit, he wasn’t gonna last much longer either with your face as close to his, getting a front-row view of your reactions to how good he was fucking you. He’d gripped your ass as leverage to slam you down harder, slapping the skin there every time you said his name. When your arms started to shake, he knew you were about to cum, so, like a good boyfriend, he talked you through it.

“Look how pretty you are, fuck I love you.”

“Gonna give you the world, baby.”

“You’re mine, yeah? Cum for me, then baby, give it to me.”

You lost it right then and there, arms collapsing and body laying down on his as you came hard all over him. God, you were an angel. Whimpering for him as you milked his dick, pussy spasming around his shaft. Choso came at that point, holding your hips against his as he filled you up, groaning as he sat his face into your shoulder. Panting, he brought you into a hug as he fucked you through your orgasm, smiling as you moaned his name softly.

You can count on me to misbehave!

Choso felt a little bad for fucking you so hard, your curls had fallen a bit, and your mascara had smudged a bit when you came. You lifted your hips slightly, letting him know to pull you off and lay you down. You turned your body towards him, running your hands through his hair. He swore at this moment he could marry you; watch you walk around with his ring on your finger, but right now? He was a little too fucked out to think about it clearly.

“How was it princess?”

“So good!”

He smiled and picked you up, taking you to the bathroom to get washed up. Looking at his watch, it was 10:45. Depending on how long you took to ready again, you guys could make the lunch reservations.

“Hey, baby?”

“Yeah, princess?”

“So, there was this LC500 i was looking at…”

“It’s yours.”

Primadonna girl!

♱ the song used in this story is primadonna by marina and the diamonds. 🖤

♱ masterlist.

♱ all fics playlist.

𝖆𝖚 𝖗𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖎𝖗, 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖞𝖗𝖚𝖎𝖓.

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into-the-lokiverse · 6 months

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Who You Really Are (Loki, God of Stories x Reader)

Summary: When all appears lost to an aspiring novelist, the God of Stories sends a message of hope.

(credit to @lokitvsource for the gif)

You weren't sure how much further you could go on, or if you could go on.

For years, one of the biggest things you desperately wanted in life was to be a novelist. To entertain with stories of magic, power, action, romance, and a little nonsense.

But lately, as you sat before your desk, exhausted from the day job you relied on to pay the bills, you just couldn't bring yourself to move forward with your debut story. The plot felt too twisted to the point even you could barely comprehend it at times. The characters once vivid, were fading into shadows and dust of their former selves. And the scenes you envisioned in detail started to feel...unreachable.

And yet, you couldn not stop scribbling notes at every random moment of inspiration. You clung to the memory of your characters.

Like a parasite or an infection, the idea of your story plagued your mind for weeks, months to the point where it never seemed to leave you. You could barely think straight about anything else, even cleaning.

Half-drank cups of coffee at every corner of the desk, loose napkins with random thoughts written on them, a garbage can full of tissues, candy wrappers, and tea bags, a folder filled with printed images of your dark-haired, blue-eyed muse, and a stack of books that you checked out for "inspiration" but hardly touched.

The floor surrounding your desk had a thin layer of dust, wherever there weren't fallen pens you hadn't the heart to pick up, or papers you abandoned.

Am I meant to be a writer, or am I simply possessed?, you contemplated over a cup of stale coffee. Am I truly, clinically insane with obssssion? Am I doing the right thing, or have I finally lost my mind? Maybe I'm just crazy...maybe I'm wasting my time, doing the wrong thing that was never meant for me.

Or maybe I'm just not worthy of being the person who...does things. The person who flourishes in doing something they love.

But just as you were about to put your head down on the one free space on your cluttered desk, you spotted a mysterious note in parchment.

It read,

I believe in you.

I believe in every part of you, even in that couple of paragraphs you've stuffed in your desk (which honestly should be cleaned, but you won't do it.).

I believe in you because I know who you could become.

Because I know who you really are. You're a talented, blessed individual burdened with a glorious compulsivity to write and far too much fear for your own good.

But who you really are, it does not matter. It is all about the stories. The adventures.

There is a last refuge for the unloved and the desperate, and the persecuted.

When life gets too impossible, when life gets too terrifying, find hope in this, my talented scribe. That when all else fails, remember that you are a branch on the tree of life.

And in the center of that tree, there is someone watching over you, protecting you like he's always done before, and will continue to do so.

Your branch is just beginning. So marvel me, and marvel yourself with all you do. My blessing is with you.

For all time always.

Loki

#loki laufeyson #loki (marvel)#loki god of mischief #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki x y/n #loki x you #loki

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coqxettee · 28 days

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How to romanticise Spring:

Some ideas and things you can do to romanticise the Spring season 🫧˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🧚🏻‍♀️.

Spring Wardrobe - Spring is the perfect time to start integrating new pieces into your wardrobe. Long flowing dresses, maxi skirts, pretty blouses, milkmaid dresses/shirts, rompers, dungarees, mini skirts, cami’s and so much more. Make sure to add a pair of new Spring pumps (Mary janes are perfect) and some pretty floral hair bandanna’s and flower crowns in there too. Pastel pinks, yellows, blues, greens and white fit perfect for this time of year, along with patterns and materials like floral print and lace 🩰

Change your eating habits. Put away the comfort food from winter and indulge in the delicious delicacy’s of Spring. Fresh fruit and vegetables can make endless recipes for Breakfast, Lunch & Dinner, sweet things like Oatmeal, Honey, gelato and any particularly sweet fruits are perfect for this time of year 🍒🥗🍵

Consume Spring media 💐 The media you consume affects your mood, consuming uplifting Spring content will not only make you feel happier in yourself, but will also make you look forward to and romanticise the season more. I have a list of Movies, TV shows & books you can consume in Spring that I will be uploading shortly ☀️

Read Spring books. There are SO many out there, classics are perfect for this time of year but any whimsical, forest-core, fantasy story’s like “The Hobbit” or “The legend of King Arthur” are perfect too 📖

Listen to classical music, movie soundtracks and pretty instrumentals whenever you are doing any of the following activities (I find it helps romanticising a lot! 🎶🌷)

Have a picnic outside - Bring a wicker picnic basket, beautiful picnic blanket, fancy plates and cutlery and have a picnic fit for a countryside princess outside, either at the park or in a field. Wear a big sun hat to keep shaded from the sun and be sure to bring the essentials (Princess picnic food can include miniature sandwiches, scones, cookies, cakes & cupcakes, fruits like strawberries, cherries and apples, any snacks you can think of, lemonade and sweet iced tea) 🌷

Host a Tea Party (either indoors or outside) Set a table with all your finest dinnerware pieces, wear a floaty dress and white gloves, and use your most precious Teapot to pour fruity and sweet flavoured teas into any delicate teacups you can find. You can even make this Bridgerton inspired and have a high-tea esque party. With cookies and strawberry shortcake, cupcakes and miniature sandwiches. Make sure to set the table with a pretty tablecloth, fresh flowers and napkins/fine cutlery for yourself or your guests. Play some classical music and enjoy 🫖

Go berry/fruit picking. This time of year is perfect for Strawberry, Cherry’s & fruit picking in general. Wear a big straw hat, a long dress and don’t forget to bring your basket with you to collect the fruit in 🍓

Visit a flower field 🌸 💐 this time of year, flowers are in full bloom. Wear the most beautiful dress and a flower crown, so you are ready to twirl in the flower fields to your hearts content 🌷

Bake new Spring recipes. There are SO many Spring/Easter baking ideas on Pinterest. Have a look at any and compile a list of Bakes you want to try this Spring season 🍰

Cook new Spring recipes, you can even incorporate any new foods you have tried into the recipes and be sure to write them down in your recipe book 🥧

Make flower crowns! You can use fresh flowers or fake flowers, some wire or plain headbands. Get creative with them, use flowers, gems, lace, ribbon (this is a lovely activity to do with friends outside) 🌸

Press flowers (Such a Spring fairy activity!) any wild flowers you find (preferably dying or damaged) take them home and press them in a heavy book

Go on Forest Fairy walks. Explore your local forests, parks, meadows in the most vibrant green and pink dresses, wear flower crowns and just be one with nature, listen to fairytale music and take in the wildlife and nature around you 🧚‍♀️

Decorate your bedroom/space for Spring. This can be as simple as changing the bedding or by going all out and re-decorating your room completely. Fresh flowers, fake plants, cottage-core illustrations of animals look lovely too 🌷

Celebrate Easter like a Spring princess (really get into it this year) enjoy a beautiful Spring breakfast, paint eggs, eat chocolate, do some Easter bakes in the kitchen, make Easter Sunday a special day for you 🐣

Journal/Sketch/Paint - Painting outside is one of my favourite things to do, and you could even set up your easel/painting supplies in a garden or local field and paint the scenery 💐 Journalling all about your pretty Spring days can be uplifting and I find that sketching illustrations of Flowers, woodland animals and just Nature in general makes me feel so at ease any time I do so 🦢

Visit historical places like castles, botanical gardens and garden centres. These places are always abloom in Spring. Most of these places offer café’s and afternoon tea’s too! 🌸

Visit a cute Café for afternoon tea 🫖 (Make sure to wear a pretty outfit!)

Go frolicking in meadows. Roll down hills and twirl in flower fields 🌼

Feed birds and take time out to Spend time with nature and wildlife 🐰

I hope this helped and gave you some ideas, made you feel happy or comforted whilst reading and most importantly, inspired you to live life to the fullest and most beautiful it can be this Springtime 💐📖🎀 All my love ~ Kellen

#coquette #coquette aesthetic #lana del rey #baby pink #girly aesthetic #girly pink #girly #girly girl #girly kei #girly stuff #spring aesthetic #spring girl #springtime #spring #easter

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brisquad-unit-4402 · 4 months

Text

christmas cookies

it's christmas now in my timezone. so happy holidays from unit 4402, and a lovely winter ahead. please stay warm comfy and loved wherever you are. this was inspired by a george strait song of the same name sans vox. he is one of the few country artists i trust. please be kind to him and enjoy my guilty pleasure corny christmas music fave

(btw i've always wanted vox to do a karaoke and sing at least one george strait song i just know he'd eat it up. tbh christmas cookies is the song i associate with vox the most even more than new cydonia. you have to understand how important the imagery of vox singing this song is to me i can't describe it in words nor fanfic)

tags: gender neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, food descriptions

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

A comfy night in while the air turns icy outside. Your home runs warm, especially as you pass by the oven, and when you lean over Vox's wing-and-shoulder to watch him mix some icing together.

"Pass me the powdered sugar, Reader?"

"Sure thing."

"Thank you, baby."

Before you can utter any sweet nothings back to him the oven interrupts you as the timer goes off. You slip on one of Vox's mitts (a ruby red with a paw-print pattern and a scorch mark on the side, what were you expecting) and open the oven door.

The sweet smell of freshly baked cookies pours out from the oven, and as you set them on the cooling rack the scent grows only more enticing. Vox insisted on making cookies from scratch this year rather than from a box, and you have to admit, you don't even need to sneak a bite to admit he was right. The scent and golden-brown color is already miles ahead of the batches you made alone in the past.

The heat spreads behind you, trademark Vox and his demonic blood. Your suspicions are confirmed once he peers over your shoulder just as you did, and swipes an oven-hot cookie from the rack.

"What the—Vox!" You lightly slap his hand. "Those are hot!"

"I was born in Hell," he says, mouth full of cookie. He swallows. "Mmm, tasty."

"They aren't even frosted yet!"

"It's a good goddamn cookie, Reader, what do you want me to do, say they taste like charcoal?"

"No, Vox, I want you to be patient and wait for them to cool and decorate them like a normal person before eating them! We're going to have a full bowl of icing and no cookies to ice if you keep taking them like that!"

He pops another cookie into his mouth much to your playful dismay. "What kind of normal person doesn't eat a cookie straight out of the oven?" Then he takes another, places it on a napkin, and sets it on the counter in front of you. "Would having a cookie yourself make you feel better?"

"Normal people that don't have heat resistance like you." You stare down at the cookie. It has a soft crack through the side from cooling improperly, so of course it would be perfect for a taste test. "But... thanks."

Vox brightens. "Eat up. Er, in ten to fifteen minutes when cooled."

You nod, and watch as Vox shovels cookie dough onto a new pan. You snuck a tiny Santa hat onto one of his horns earlier this evening, and even now the pompom at the end sways as he moves the next batch into the oven.

The oven settings chirp, chirp, chirp until the temperature and timer is set.

"Should be fine to eat your cookie once those are out of the oven," he says. Baking your holiday sweets was an equal effort, but his lips are curved upwards and his wings raise in quiet pride. "I can tell you what it tastes like if you're too impatient to wait."

He's right. You're impatient. So you take Vox's hand to lower him just enough for your mouth to meet his.

You return back down from your tiptoes a second later, sugar on your tongue and sweetness all the way through. "Damn, we did great."

He scoffs but his wings let out a happy little flap. "If you wanted me to kiss you, you could've just asked."

"Well, we have—"your eyes flit to the timer—"Ten minutes until the next batch is done." You squeeze his hand. "Gotta spend the time somehow."

The corners of Vox's lips curve a little higher. He sweeps you up only to seat you on the clean side of the counter, just so you can see that eager, dorky little grin at eye-level, wings around you and arms on either side. "'Tis the season for giving, mm?"

"Cheeky bastard." You close your eyes as if you were irritated, but you're the one that leans in first, and the taste of the cookies spreads through your mouth as the minutes go by.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ ⁭masterpost ✧. ┊ ⁭kofi

#vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #nijisanji en #nijisanji x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #4402 writes #vox akuma fluff #vox akuma headcanons #vox akuma imagines #someone send me an ask i need to rant abt how fucked up it is that my V0x Akum4 brain receptors are the exact same as my George Strait ones

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sesamestreep · 1 year

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Nick/Jess, 15!

15. i’ll save you a seat (from this prompt list)

IT’S MILLER’S TIME

The bestselling author of the hit YA series ‘The Pepperwood Chronicles’ opens up about seeing his work adapted for television, his new novel, and becoming a father.

LOS ANGELES - The lunchtime crowd at Gogo’s Tacos in Silver Lake is more plentiful and aggressive than the colleague who recommended the spot for my interview with Nick Miller led me to believe it would be on a weekday, which means I spend the twenty minutes between when I show up (ten minutes early) and when he arrives (ten minutes late and convincingly apologetic about it) fighting off other patrons who are convinced I’m lying about expecting someone and want to steal his seat. His appearance in the busy restaurant is welcome for more reasons than one.

We’re here to discuss the new Netflix adaptation of his bestselling book series, The Pepperwood Chronicles, into a television series. The first season, which drops this Friday on the streaming platform, takes on the Herculean task of adapting the first book in the series (clocking in at 628 pages) into just eight episodes of television. It’s a highly anticipated project for the army of Pepperheads out there, who want to see if Sebastian Stan truly has what it takes to embody the titular grizzled New Orleans detective from Miller’s beloved novels, but it’s not the only project that’s been occupying Miller’s time lately. He’s also got his debut novel for the adult market, the stylishly-titled HoBo, which draws heavily on his childhood in Chicago, coming out in November. But the project he’s most anxious to brag about is one he had—by his own admission—very little to do with, aside from the original idea. The lion’s share of the credit belongs to his wife.

“This is Reggie,” he says, stretching his phone across the table proudly, swiping through dozens of photos of a pleasantly chunky infant in a Chicago Bears onesie. “Oh, and that’s Mario,” he says, when we get to a photo of a dog sniffing the same baby, asleep in a car seat and wearing a hooded jacket with bear ears.

“I know he looks like a funky little alien right now, but my wife says that most babies get really cute around the six month mark,” Miller says, after suddenly remembering that he has tacos he could be eating. He takes an enormous bite of one before making a face. “God, don’t print that. My son is already adorable. I love him.”

We debate whether or not I can actually print that comment (guess who won) for a few minutes before Miller finally allows us to move on. I ask, given his penchant for drawing details from his own life to use in his novels, if this recent development for him means we can expect the next Pepperwood installment to find Julius Pepperwood and his leading lady, Jessica Knight, contemplating parenthood.

“I don’t know about that,” Miller says, with his mouth full. “It’s not that one-to-one for me. Yes, Pepperwood is based on me in some ways, but in many other ways he isn’t, you know? Same goes for Jessica Knight. She’s based on my wife, definitely, but I’ve never felt constricted by that. I’ve always felt like the characters follow their own path, though they take inspiration from my real life.”

In this answer, Miller has given me both an articulate response and neatly sidestepped giving any confirmation of further Pepperwood installments, which forces me to ask the question directly. His face goes blank for a moment afterwards, and he spends a while chewing before he attempts to answer.

“I’m not saying no,” he finally replies, wiping his hands on a napkin, while looking thoughtfully into the distance. “But I’m also not saying yes. There have been people—and my wife tells me not to read the reviews or the comments, but sometimes, you know, shit happens and you see some stuff—there’s people who think Pepperwood is too happy now. They liked him when he was tortured. Now, he’s got the love of his life by his side, he solved his brother’s murder, he made peace with his father. It’s like, where’s the tension anymore? But at the same time, I don’t want to make him miserable again just to sell more books.”

Miller talks about Pepperwood (and Knight and all of his characters) like they’re real people, a fact he shrugs off when I point it out.

“Of course,” he says. “Of course they’re real to me. It’s important to remember that they’ve been with the readers for six books now, but they’ve been with me for longer than that. And they don’t leave me alone when the book is done, either, like they do for my readers.”

They don’t seem to leave his readers alone after the last page, actually, if the healthy fandom producing fanart and fanfiction online are any indication. Miller, of course, has thoughts.

“I’m pleased about it,” he says, with his usual Chicago-born nonchalance. “It’s always made me happy that my work resonates with people, especially young people. I didn’t see that coming, in the beginning. It wasn’t supposed to be a YA series.”

The origins of The Pepperwood Chronicles are the publishing world’s version of a Cinderella story. Miller initially published the first book in the series himself at the encouragement of his friends, hawking the hand bound (!) copies at local bookstores with the encouragement of his then-girlfriend, as well as his future wife (“Two different women,” he clarifies. “It’s a long story.”) The hefty novel all about the seedy underbelly of New Orleans very quickly found a devoted fan base amongst a surprising audience: teenage girls. Where other authors might have bristled, Miller instead took his unexpected champions in stride.

“Like, there was definitely some initial shock to get over,” he explains. “If I’d known I was writing to teenagers specifically, I would have cut, well, a few things from that manuscript.” He’s referring delicately to some pretty explicit sex scenes and graphic violence, which definitely get toned down in later installments of the series. Confronted with this, Miller shrugs and says only, “That’s show biz!”

Speaking of show biz, how does he feel about the Netflix adaptation of his work?

“It was really interesting,” he offers, thoughtfully. “I’m grateful they didn’t ask me to write it, because it turns out I’m a terrible screenwriter.” Before I can ask him to elaborate on that, he continues, “But the team really did check in with me a lot and they made sure the tone felt right, and the changes they had to make worked with my understanding of the world and the characters. I felt like they really respected Pepperwood, which obviously means a lot to me.”

Miller is being generous, of course, considering he and his wife are both executive producers on the series. When I mention this, however, he waves it off. “They still could have told me to fuck off with my opinions,” he says.

As for working with his wife in that capacity, he’s more than happy to sing her praises. “She’s great. Aside from myself, she’s the person I trust most to get Pepperwood, you know? Like my editors and my agent and everybody, they’re amazing, but if I’m really stuck, Jess is the one I can turn to and be like ‘does this work? Or does it suck?’ And she’ll tell me. She’s always been that person for me. She’s the first person I shared the first draft of the first book with, so her input is invaluable. Or is it valuable?”

“They mean the same thing,” I tell him.

“That’s stupid,” he replies. “I mean, I’m not calling you stupid. The English language is stupid sometimes. My wife’s input is very important to me, is what I’m saying. Her instincts are spot on.”

And they should be, after all. When she’s not producing the Pepperwood TV series with her husband, Jessica Day (yes, you’re reading that right. Miller’s wife and the inspiration for his character Jessica Knight is named Jessica Day. Check the dedication on the first Pepperwood novel if you don’t believe me) works for Scholastic, as a part of their team that handles community outreach to K-12 schools across the country. (Miller’s publishing deal is with an imprint of Simon & Schuster, in case anyone is worried about favoritism.) Before that, she worked briefly in the nonprofit industry and as a middle school teacher and later vice principal.

“She understands the demographic perfectly,” Miller summarizes, fifteen minutes into an endearing monologue about how great his wife is. “I think the writers for the TV show liked having her around even more than having me. She really knows her stuff.”

When I follow up a few days later with Ms. Day for comment, her husband’s remarks amuse but don’t surprise her. “He’s always giving me too much credit,” she says, humbly.

Does it weird her out at all, to have so many people so intensely invested in the fictionalized version of her love life?

“It’s funny. I know the names are really similar and obviously Nick borrows things here and there from our real life,” she says, “but I really don’t feel like Jessica Knight is me. So I don’t take it personally at all.”

This isn’t the first time this attitude has come up in interviews. Last year, when casting was announced for the Netflix series, Day made headlines for defending the production’s decision to cast British actress Gugu Mbatha-Raw as Jessica Knight after many fans claimed she didn’t match Knight’s description in the books.

“Gugu’s a very talented actress. I’ve seen her screen tests and she will blow you away when you see the show, I promise!” Day took to Twitter to say at the time.

“She capture [sic] JK’s energy perfectly,” she added in a further tweet. “Please welcome her to the Pepperwood family as we have!”

Now, Day is less diplomatic in her response. “It was a small portion of fans who were upset,” she says, “but they were the loudest contingency. It was very upsetting, and honestly tacky. So what if she doesn’t look like me? The character isn’t me, first of all. And the books are set in New Orleans, for God’s sake! It would be stupid if the entire main cast was white people.”

When I accuse her of saying the quiet part loud, as the kids say, Day seems nonplussed. “It’s those new mom hormones, I guess,” she replies, as a baby cries in the background of the phone call as if on cue. “I just don’t give a fu…dge.”

Miller, during our interview, feels similarly. “The team went with the best people for the parts, and we made it clear, my wife and I, that they absolutely weren’t trying to cast our doppelgängers. That wasn’t the point. Honestly, it would have freaked me out if they had.”

So he doesn’t think he and Stan look alike?

“No, not at all,” he says, automatically. “Do you?”

“He kind of seems like a more Hollywood version of you, yeah.”

Miller takes a long time thinking this over. “That’s…huh…”

In order to distract him from the existential spiral I’ve inadvertently led him down, I switch us over to the topic of his new book, HoBo. It’s made several lists of most anticipated books for this fall (including this publication’s) but there was a while there where Miller feared the manuscript would never see the light of day.

“The publisher thought it was too dark for the teen market,” he says, without any of the smarmy pride one would expect from the average male author accused of being ‘too dark’ by The Man. “I had no idea! I thought Pepperwood was too dark for teens and they loved it! So, there was a bit there when I was like, ‘okay, so this is the end, I guess.’”

Miller isn’t being melodramatic either. There was a moment, according to him and confirmed by his editor, Merle Streep, where they considered parting ways. Luckily, they came to an understanding once the dust settled and Miller pitched the novel, then titled “Chicago Hobo”, for the adult market. The source of this brilliant solution? You guessed it: Jessica Day.

“My wife’s a genius,” Miller states. “It was so simple and yet none of us could see it. Of course they should market the book to adults, if they thought it was too gritty for teens. Obviously.”

Day, however, downplays her contribution. “The issue with the manuscript came to a head on our wedding day, if you can believe it. On our honeymoon, it was all Nick could talk about. He was worried he’d never publish another book again. I suggested he send the manuscript around to other publishers to see if there was interest, but pitch it as, you know, a book for grownups. I thought it would make him feel better. I had no idea that the minute he did that, his original publisher would come back to him with a deal.”

But that’s exactly what they did. He’s also on the hook for three more books after that, though he’s cagey with details about if those will be HoBo sequels, further Pepperwood adventures, or something else entirely.

“We’re in a really pivotal moment,” Miller says, looking a little bit sweaty as he admits it. “We’ll see how Pepperwood does as a TV show, we’ll see how people feel about HoBo when it comes out.” He pauses to laugh. “We’ll see if being a father completely fries my brain and I never write another coherent sentence ever again.”

Early reviews and chatter are saying that the new novel is every bit as cinematic as The Pepperwood Chronicles, which suggests a screen adaptation is more a matter of “when” than “if.” It is, by Miller’s own admission, even more autobiographical than Pepperwood (the preteen narrator is Travis Tiller, called “Trick” by his friends, so do with that what you will). It’s based, in many ways, on his childhood in Chicago, but it’s also equal parts dystopian speculative fiction and superhero origin story, with a heavy pour of magical realism to wash it down. The cinematic universe practically writes itself.

“We just don’t know,” Miller replies vaguely. No matter what I do, I can’t get him to speculate on bringing this book to the small or big screen. “I don’t want to jinx anything,” he adds, frantically, after many such questions.

Fine. But, as pure speculation, what actor does he think, potentially, has what it takes to bring the eponymous hobo to life on screen?

“Rock Hudson,” he says, after much bullying.

When I inform him that Rock Hudson is dead and has been for more than 30 years, Miller looks crestfallen. What about preteen Trick Tiller, then? Is there anyone Miller would entrust to play his younger self?

“Cate Blanchett,” he replies.

When I point out that she’s both older than him and a different gender, he frowns. “She played Bob Dylan, though,” he counters, confused. I concede that he’s got me there.

We return to the much safer topic of conversation that is the current adaptation of one of his novels. What’s he most looking forward to now that the show is finally premiering?

“Getting to go on a date with my wife,” he says, sincerely, with the dead-eyed stare of a sleep-deprived new parent. “Seriously. We’re getting a sitter to watch the baby, we’re bringing a few of our close friends, who are all getting sitters for their babies. It’s going to be really fun. It’s going to be a classic mess around.”

A what?

“Don’t worry about it,” Miller says.

Is there anyone whose opinion he’s particularly anxious about, when it comes to the TV show? Or even his new novel?

“I’m always worried about what the fans think. I want the Pepperwood fans to like the show. I want them to like the new book, even though it’s not about Pepperwood, you know?”

Does he think there will be crossover?

“Absolutely I do, yes,” he says, emphatically. “The kids who read Pepperwood when it first came out—this is terrifying to say, but—they’re grown up now. They’re in college or they’re young professionals. HoBo is written for their age group now. It will be marketed to them.”

It’s kind of like they’ve grown up with him.

“Don’t say that,” Miller replies, putting his head in his hands dramatically. “I’m gonna have a panic attack. Having an actual biological child is scary enough.”

Speaking of scary, to distract him from another existential crisis, I ask if he’s been starstruck at any part of the process of turning his beloved novels into a TV show, and his answer is surprising to say the least.

“I mean, I was a little bit starstruck meeting Alfred Molina the first time. He was already in costume as Schmith, too, which was an extra level of weird,” he says, referring to the iconic love-to-hate-him villain of the first Pepperwood book and a supporting player in many of the series’s other installments. Still, Miller eventually got used to the idea of Doc Ock himself being in the show.

“Oh, I know my big starstruck moment,” he adds. “When Taylor Swift tweeted about the trailer. That was like…Woah! Is this really happening?”

That’s right. When the show’s first trailer debuted in March, the Grammy-winning singer took to Twitter to express her excitement.

“I can’t believe how good this looks,” she tweeted with the emoji of the cat making the Home Alone face. “Is it September yet?!?”

Can we take his excitement over this interaction the confirmation we’ve all been waiting for that Nick Miller is a Swiftie?

“I don’t know what that is, but I like her. She’s really talented. When my wife’s upset, she likes to listen to Taylor Swift and cry while she drinks pink wine,” he says, before taking a troubled pause. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you that.”

Day laughs when I tell her this anecdote during our phone call and gives me the go-ahead to print it. “It’s true,” she says. “Who cares?”

So, if they had to pick a Swift song to represent Julius Pepperwood and Jessica Knight’s relationship, what would it be?

Miller’s answer is simple: “You should ask my wife.”

Day’s response, on the other hand, is more complex. “I think it evolves over time, you know, from book to book. Probably in the early books, before they get together for real, it’s ‘Out of the Woods’ or ‘Wildest Dreams.’ Maybe even ‘White Horse,’ if you want to go back into her catalog.”

What about for her and Miller?

“That’s easy,” Day says, and the smile is obvious in her voice. “I’ve always thought of ‘Mine’ as our song of hers.”

This conversation mostly just confirms Miller’s assertion that his wife knows his characters just as well as he does. It also begs the important question of whether he’ll use this big moment in his career as leverage to arrange a meeting between Swift and his wife.

“I don’t know,” he says, honestly. “Maybe? I should ask Jess. She might kill me if I pulled that on her with no warning.”

As our meal and interview come to an end, I can’t help asking Miller a question that has been on my mind the whole time: with all this talk of how great and inspiring his wife is, and how integral to his creative process she’s become, does he happen to identify as a Wife Guy?

“I don’t know what that is either. You keep saying these things—I’ve never heard of them before,” he admits. “But I like the sound of it. So, yeah. I guess so. Unless it’s a bad thing. In which case, no. Was that—did I answer your question?”

In this case, just like so many of Nick Miller’s characters before us, we might have to make peace with an ambiguous ending.

•

The Pepperwood Chronicles premieres exclusively on Netflix this Friday.

#forgive any stupid mistakes it should go without saying that I’m not an actual journalist #also I genuinely don’t even know what year to pretend this is set in…who knows tbh??#I have a lot of feelings about the Pepperwood chronicles it turns out phew #new girl #nick miller #jessica day #nick x jess #god this was so fun to write #taylor swift song prompts #firstelevens #homelywenchsociety #<just my writing tag don’t worry about it #IDK IT IS WHAT IT IS!!#there’s so many Easter eggs in this….a whole basket’s worth #barely relates to the prompt I tried

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jazz-bazz · 7 months

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OKAY ITS YOUR TURN FOR QUESTIONS NOW

What are the ghouls' hobbies outside of music?

Also hi I hope your day was wonderful 💙

thank you google for this 😂 bcs my brain cannot think of normal people hobbies… i totally forgot about crochet or reading or gardening until i had to type this… sorry not sorry 😬

Rain loves working with leather! Someone got a new leather wallet? That ghoul would carve your name and whatever you want on it. Want a custom leather bound book? Rain‘s the ghoul for the job.

Dew makes jewelries, he has the advantage of his fire to help him and he makes pretty things. Not just with metal, he also collabs with Rain to make leather jewelries.

Mountain is a big guy, but he can be delicate with his hands, which is why he likes to make sculptures out of clay, each ghoul has a mini sculptures of themselves with their instrument, and Papa has one of him and the ghouls.

Swiss loves painting, but using things other than paint. He has used coffee, juice, dirt, sand, cotton balls, and anything that inspires him. His creations has been used to stim by the other ghouls.

Aether, boy likes to “ghosthunt”, he needs a break from being the common sense of the ghouls and needs some silly in his life. He finds random ghost hunting groups and bullshit his way in. Thing is, he can see the ghosts, and sometimes pranks the humans by knocking things over, or shouting that he found something.

Phantom does origami, though he mostly make little stars as a way to stim. But he can make little birds and other things too, he’s always browsing youtube for new tutorials. Also he’s the designated napkin folder for dinners.

Cirrus has several scrapbooks, pictures from tour, trinkets the others gave her, random leaves, old clothes, and even people‘s kiss marks or thumb prints have become the centerpiece of her creations. Don’t bring this ghoul into a stationery store unless you’re prepared to pay a lot of money.

Cumulus does paper quilling. She has the patience and the eyes to do it. She almost always can be found fiddling with strips of paper at any time, and has a small tub of glue to secure them, and also a pouch she uses to store them until she can combine them into one big picture.

Sunshine makes parkour videos because this ghoul just can not stay still. And she figures being an immortal demon is enough safety measure to do extreme parkour. Her videos have gone viral in the internet even though nobody knows who she is.

Aurora loves making clothes and quilts for her pack. Not only that she also makes mini clothes for their plushies, so now Copia‘s plushia has several different outfits for different occasions. She secretly sells her plushy clothes too. Also she likes stone skipping in the lake and has several times hit Rain‘s head.

#ghost hc #my hcs #rain ghoul #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #phantom ghoul #mountain ghoul #cirrus ghoulette #cumulus ghoulette #sunshine ghoulette #aurora ghoulette #mac

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kisslandeds · 5 months

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In a town like London, there are nobodies and there are somebodies. Preceding a somebody, there is a crime that makes them who they are today.

As John Berger has once remarked, every city has a sex and an age which have nothing to do with demographic. In this case, London is a man in his 40's with an educated background and a peculiar fascination with crime. Or so, that's how Belladonna describes her last 4 years on London, with that analogous thought.

Being an up and coming actress, Belladonna's once mundane life has gradually become more and more . . . strange. Becoming increasingly worried of the oddities that had occurred in her life, she consults with several private detectives who reject her case because it seemed too 'trivial.'

Exasperation almost pushes Belladonna to think that perhaps she scrutinizes her life too much. Before considering surrender, she reads the daily tabloid of The London Times that is thrown at her doorstep. The paper covers the usual; news of the Royal Family, advertisements, international happenings, etc. However, her eyes are immediately drawn to a photo in the corner of the tabloid, an image of a 3 story apartment downtown of London. The heading above prints, 'The Office of the World's Only Consulting Detective.'

Belladonna grabs a ballpoint pen and jots down the details of the article onto a napkin beside her. 𝘓𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦, 221𝘉 𝘉𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘵, she mentally highlights the address. Belladonna thought, perhaps, there was a sliver of a chance she would finally find someone with interest in her case.

Several questions linger, perhaps most evidently the question of 'Will Sherlock Holmes accept her case?'

But perhaps the question that she should’ve considered the most is what will be of her life after Sherlock Holmes accepts her case? Unsurprisingly, Belladonna will meet incandescent, intangible men in spite of her need to stay vigilant.

//𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎R

hi :) i’m new to tumblr, i write in wattpad usually. my username on wattpad is KISSLANDED. i’ve published this exact fic on there, with little attention, because i feel like i’m in such a niche fandom 🥹 so i’ve decided to see how tumblr is. i hope this is well received:)

this is the link to my story on wattpad. i’ve posted a live action cast of people i think fit guard me sherlock! characters under introductions ;) feel free to read on there, i’m likely going to be more active on there :)

to be CLEAR . . .

i am not inspired by the BBC show or any other show/movie related to this but by the Arthur Conan Doyle books and guard me sherlock! so don't expect a timeline related to those shows, a lot of my content will be original or based on GMS.

i haven't yet decided if i'll create an ending for watson, sherlock, and moriarty, but i guess we'll both go on that journey together, won't we?

thank you for reading and i appreciate any support along the way because it motivates me to publish more parts <3

#guard me sherlock

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starvels · 2 years

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what do you think are the muses that show up most often in steve's sketchbook?

what a fun question, ev! thank you for asking. 😈✨

here's what i think:

nyc. he's a brooklyn lad, alright. in pen and marker. on a moleskin he carries around that has cracks in its spine.

people on transit/out and about in the city. HONY but like hands of new york. jackets. forgotten socks by the condo constructions. the piers at golden hour. central park as a möbius strip. the dude in a duck costume on the B. yunno. in pencil, gouache, cheap monochromatic oils. on cheap newsprint. A3 paper, canvases (oft hung in museums, preserved when steve's other art wasn't. he has conflicting feelings about it after coming out of the ice, but still draws them.)

old architecture. chalk. ballpoint. moleskins. coasters.

politics/current events. he's a bitchy, political cartoonist of an american icon, alright. in marker and digital. on his anonymous mildly popular instagram and the occasional publication.

new foods/inventions. kinda blurry photographs paperclips to moleskins. in pencil and soft pastel.

his own teammates. he's with them almost every day. he has an almost eidetic memory. he definitely draws scenes from the mansion/tower/quinjet/battles, moments in the aftermaths where they're digging through rubble with their bare bloodied hands, where they're hugging each other just to feel something alive, where they're laughing holding a drink. in pencil. on napkins, canvases, as gifts, rarely in museums but often in places of honor (in tony's homes, in his teams'.)

pursuant to that: his own nightmares. war. viscera. the good things in the past; a cooking pot his grandma passed down filled with empty shotgun shells. a finger on a grenade, not attached to a hand. in ink, digital, magazine cut outs, media far removed from the inspiration. most often controversially placed in museums and war retrospectives, saved by some of his wwii unit.

fantasy and sci fi media. yes, he's a fanart lad. tolkien and ursula k le guin and hajime yatate and neon yang, etc. pen, gouache, digital. posted on his official social media accounts bc he's shameless. sometimes asked to do covers for up and coming writers. sometimes agrees.

in a similar vein, comics! comics inspired by comics :))

hands in general. he(thinks he)'s a simple man. sketches, rarely soft pastels. on small notebooks, official documents.

his lovers. in repose, in sheets, generally faceless. more about the planes of their bodies, the way they fill the space. in messy sketches and gouache or acrylic. often destroyed. (steve does not have complicated feelings about this. he does have a lot of feelings about this.)

queer artists/art. half dressed men. pride parades. (steve does have complicated feelings about this. he does have a lot of feelings about this.) pastel, chalk, chalk pastels. on vellum, small digital prints. occasionally temporarily in galleries and exhibitions on a complicated basis. steve likes to keep them.

statues. in black or red pen/ink/chalk. on tiny canvases or moleskin.

the iron man armor <33333 in acrylic, red or blue ballpoint. on napkins and moleskin.

i'll stop here bc this is long but please allow me to emphasize that steve is an artist and us artists always see the world with a little bit of romance: every moment could contain a muse, and every muse could contain a million moments, etc.

i think his hands itch for his shield just as much as they itch for his sketchbook.

#steve rogers' sketchbook #steve rogers #616 #our talk #character talk

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alki-studio · 7 months

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Side project: ‘23 Ren Faire Dress

Starting this blog out with documenting my progress on making a dress for an upcoming ren faire!

Here’s the concept drawing:

I went shopping at my local goodwill for good textiles to use, so I designed it with materials I had recently bought or already had in mind.

- My inspiration research originally started on viking clothing, and I originally wanted to make an apron dress, which is the cropped out sketch on the left

- I decided to scrap that though, since I have a HUGE stash of brocade from a thrifted set of tablecloths/napkins, and decided to go for something later and more Italian? to use it up. I’m not too familiar on historical costuming so I’m not sure what exactly to call it, but it’s definitely not viking

- I liked the concept of the viking apron dress though, so I’m designing the main dress to lace up the sides at least. The skirt will be pleated and sewn directly to the front/back bodice pieces, as it’d be with an apron dress, instead of a detached corset and skirt

- I also drew a lot of inspiration from Martha Boer’s work! Amidst the many, many photos of historical costumes on Pinterest, the beautiful dresses she makes for dolls really stood out to me. I love the way she combines textures, and the detail work is absolutely stunning. Looking at her photos, I instantly saw how I could use the textiles I already have to design a renaissance dress.

And here’s my progress on the front bodice so far! Over the years, I’ve realized I don’t exactly have the patience for properly patterning, and I prefer just to drape and cut. Luckily, I can get away with cutting a sufficiently large mess, hand stitching the edges together, and then binding those edges with tape.

The brocade is a poly satin tablecloth that I have an obscene amount of, and I’ll be using it for the rest of the main dress. The lining is just a cheap cotton print— I used layers of fabric (cotton and more of that brocade, I’m really just trying to get rid of it at this point) to give the bodice some stiffness, and then ultimately decided to add steel wire to the channels I incidentally created from sewing that altogether.

I have a big 10m roll of steel wire I had bought in accidentally too thick of a gauge for jewelry, so I’m happy to use that up for this project. I cut and looped the ends of wire for each of those channels— it didn’t use up as much as I was expecting. Then everything is just whip stitched together along the edges, save for the straps I’m still working on, no precise patterning required! I ordered some red velvet tape to bind the edges with.

Next steps are to get that all binded together, make the back bodice piece, and add their respective skirts! I’m trying to hold off on adding decorative trimmings until the back is at least done, not sure how long I can resist though.

#sewing #renaissance faire #historical sewing #costume #alki-sidequest #alki #alki studio

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nothingunrealistic · 1 year

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Extreme wealth, more often skewered than celebrated, dominates the chatter about television these days, from masters of the hedge-fund universe sparring with federal prosecutors on Billions to the familial power plays on Succession to the vacation foibles of the merely rich on The White Lotus. And the popularity of these shows—a subgenre that we’ve termed Helipad Drama—among the demographic they feature is linked directly to how well the art imitates life.

[…]

With these shows’ binge-ability and viral moments, each visual choice is under a microscope, scrutinized online in single-frame screengrabs, from running tallies of every Aston Martin, Bentley and Ferrari driven by Damian Lewis’s Bobby Axelrod on Billions to the many watches worn—and occasionally discarded—on Succession.

The bling is a bit more overt on Billions, to convey just how far Axelrod has come from his humble working-class roots. “It was really about trying to sell the amount of privilege people with extreme wealth have and the access and power that comes with that,” says Michael Shaw, production designer on the show’s first two seasons. “A lot of rich people can buy really nice wine, but not everybody can buy a football team.” Which explains why Mark Cuban, owner of the Dallas Mavericks, makes a cameo in the second season as Axelrod considers buying his own pro franchise.

[…]

Fanny Pereire, who worked on the pilots for Billions and Succession, has a full-time job securing art for TV and film. Her process starts with a wish list of original works. She then secures single-use permission to feature each piece from the copyright holders, generally by paying out fees to artists or estates. The works shown on-screen are mostly very good official copies of sometimes priceless originals, laser-printed on canvas and touched up by the show’s art department to add brushstroke texture. After shooting wraps, Pereire usually films herself slashing the approved fakes—she’s contractually obligated to destroy or return the works—and sometimes sends them back to the artist in pieces, as proof of destruction.

Those works, often lurking in the background, subtly move the story forward, adding insight into a particular character or scene, whether it’s the Basquiat hanging ostentatiously outside Axelrod’s office or the giant photo of a melting glacier by Frank Thiel in the boardroom at the Roy family’s corporate headquarters.

“We’re telling a story, and hopefully if we do our job right, just as the production design or the costumes will tell you something about the character, the art will, too, without being part of the dialogue,” says Pereire.

[…]

Blue-chip art has been integral to setting the right tone for Billions from the beginning. Before designing the set for Axe Capital, Axelrod’s hedge-fund office in Connecticut, Shaw toured some investment firms for inspiration. “It seemed like everybody we would visit would have certain key artworks,” he says. “It was almost de rigueur that certain artists were represented—Koons, Basquiat, Warhol—because they conveyed status.”

[…]

Driven individual: Not every rich guy has a chauffeur. On Billions, Bobby Axelrod frequently steers his own Range Rover Sport.

The interiors devised by the production-design teams on Succession and Billions often have an intentionally sterile, impersonal quality. “Early on, I wanted things to feel kind of staged,” Carter says. “You want to feel these aren’t people who have the time or inclination to spend the time actually decorating their own places. They have a team of people who are paid to do it, and they’re probably a little scared for their jobs, so they make choices straight out of the magazines everybody’s been looking at.”

[…]

Billions’ power players always sit at the best table, as when Axe closes a deal at the Lobster Club in NYC.

[…]

The right food and drink add yet another layer. Both Axelrod and his nemesis, US Attorney Chuck Rhoades (Paul Giamatti), love to dine out in New York, visiting the city’s buzziest restaurants (some now shuttered), from Sushi Nakazawa and Momofuku Ko to Del Posto and Daniel. “In the first season, it was really hard to get in anywhere,” says Shaw. “After the show came out, the second season everybody wanted us in.”

Art helps paint the picture. On Billions, David Lynch’s Broken Heart hangs in Mike Price’s office.

[…]

When you’re in the business of re-creating worlds with rigor and authenticity, there’s perhaps no greater achievement than dreaming up a simulacrum that outstrips reality. Like students surpassing their teacher, the Billions team created such a compelling backdrop when they built the offices of Axe Capital—shot on location in Rockland County, N.Y.—that an investment firm later hired Shaw to consult on its real offices, in Manhattan’s shiny Hudson Yards.

“The owners of the company wanted the interior to feel like the Billions world,” says Shaw. “That was life really imitating art.”

#the billions sections are so focused on axe. even the cover art! there are other characters in this show! rich ones even!#billions #bobby axelrod #set posting #michael shaw #and wow is the target demographic of this website obvious #“if the fictional lives portrayed on Succession and its growing list of imitators feel awfully familiar‚#it might be because while you’ve been watching the shows‚ they’ve been watching you”#first of all: of the shows discussed‚ billions premiered first. if anyone's doing the imitating it's succession. this is basic info #second of all: none of these fictional lives are familiar because i'm normal and not a billionaire. but clearly you're not talking to me

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