#time travel bleach style
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Short snippet from the Bleach I Knew You AU.
But before I begin. *Insert deep sigh here.*
Secretlypansexualmango, if you see this, it was supposed to be a response to your ask. Unfortunately, it took a hard left-turn and ended up in. Uraichi shipping territory? Look, IDK, I'm asexual, I don't get it either. Anyway, since I don't know your shipping preferences and don't want to accidentally respond to your ask with something that squiks you, I will be officially responding to your ask in another post that is less likely to be unexpectedly unpalatable. Thank you for your patience, and, uh, I hope this doesn't turn you off the au! (*laughs nervously*)
Without further ado, the snippet:
Breaking into the Shiba family grounds is easy. By sheer comparison, breaking into Shiba Ichigo’s room specifically is almost a challenge, but it’s not anything that Kisuke hasn’t planned for.
The strange, modified kido, and the odd wards Ichigo has placed, are simple to bypass with a bit of fancy footwork and precisely-timed counter-kido. It’s practically child’s play to get past them, now that he's roughly figured out how they work and where they all are.
His job is made even easier by the fact that, for some reason, Kisuke’s spiritual pressure doesn’t wake Ichigo up. Quite the opposite, in fact. He seems to sleep deeper when Kisuke is nearby and has let Benihime out a little.
He has theories about that.
He’s tired of them being theories.
He’s here to get evidence.
Kisuke bypasses the final seal and slides Ichigo’s window open, slipping into his room. He lets his spiritual pressure permeate the air a little thicker than he would in normal company, and as expected, Ichigo’s spiritual pressure slows down as he falls further into slumber.
… And Kisuke is supposed to believe that the first time they met was two months ago? When this is Ichigo’s reaction to his presence? When Ichigo is one of the most paranoid people Kisuke, an ex-onmi agent, has ever encountered?
Kisuke is a genius. He doesn’t need to be in order to see the flaw in that logic.
Kisuke steps further into the room, gliding softly over the old wood floorboards. He pauses in the middle, taking a moment to debate where to start.
Well. Why not with the simplest?
He’s caught it a few times, the barest trace of his own power lingering around Ichigo. A fascinating phenomenon, when he can’t recall a single time he’s drawn shikai around him, let alone used enough power to leave a long-lasting trace.
He draws closer to Ichigo’s bed, until he could reach out and touch him if he wished.
Ichigo breathes deeply, evenly, no sign of waking up. At some point, his covers ended up half kicked-off. Possibly from the heat, probably from nightmares. Regardless of the reason, Kisuke can’t help but think that he looks strangely fragile this way, surrounded by the evidence of his restlessness.
He puts a hand on the the hilt of his soul-partner. “Awaken, Benihime,” he murmurs.
She stirs within him, gently, in a way that is oh so rare. Like the softest, most gradual of ocean tides, she rises, her fragrance of wet iron washing through the air around them.
And together, channeling her power through his eyes, they see.
Glowing crimson threads that they have no recollection of weaving wrap protectively, lovingly, around Ichigo. A thin but strong filament, sewn through the skin from just below Ichigo’s ear all the way to his opposite shoulder, sutures closed what must have once been a deadly throat wound. Another one, obviously originally meant to keep shut a gash down the length of Ichigo’s forearm, keeps it companion.
And beyond the battlefield sutures there are more threads. Hundreds of intangible and deceptively thin and absolutely unbreakable strands of Benihime’s power wrap around Ichigo, crisscrossing over themselves — around his throat and across his face and down his torso and up his arms, visible wherever his bare flesh is exposed — seemingly serving no purpose.
Benihime’s power surges at the sight, a hot delight running through her as she sees Ichigo so thoroughly caught in her webs. Kisuke’s fingers suddenly, urgently ache with the urge to touch, to tighten, to add more.
Soul King.
No purpose other than, it seems, to satiate their own possessiveness.
Kisuke exhales a shaking breath. Closes his eyes for a brief moment. Gets the heat in his blood under control.
No purpose other than to alert themselves, perhaps? Did they know that one day they wouldn't recognize Ichigo anymore, and left this as a clue?
(And oh, what a clue. What a clue it is.)
He lets Benihime’s power fade, taking his hand away from her hilt. He’s self-aware enough to know when he needs to stop tempting himself, and he’s gotten the evidence he came for — far better proof than he could have ever anticipated.
He takes a step back, and the motion is the most unnatural thing he’s done in a long, long time.
He has questions. He has a few theories, too. Amnesia, caused by a very specific type of parasitic hollow. Dimension travel. Time travel. He doesn’t have enough information yet to figure out which is most likely, but he has finally confirmed beyond doubt that Ichigo is his, has been his, and something tried to steal that from him.
Fury flares within him, burning through his veins, and he can’t do this right here.
He takes another step back, this one just as unnatural as the last.
He can’t ask, yet. He can’t get closer, can’t wake Ichigo up with a soft hand on his cheek, can’t tell him that he’s there now, can’t promise him to take care of it all if he would just let him in again.
No.
Shiba Ichigo is in the middle of a chess game — a dangerous one, a complicated one — and Kisuke can’t see the whole board yet. Tipping his own hand might trigger a whole plethora of traps, including another round of amnesia, and he refuses to risk the knowledge he’s regained.
He will have to be careful. He will have to move cautiously.
He casts one last look at Ichigo, lets his eyes trace over that delicate throat that he now knows almost bled out. That delicate throat that had to be held together with Benihime’s webs. That delicate throat that he doesn’t remember stitching back together, despite the fact that he used his bankai to do it.
He was made to unknow a person he loves. He was made to unknow a war. He was made to unknow the fact that danger lurks still in the shadows of Soul Society.
He will know the end of this game. And Ichigo will learn that there is no universe in which Kisuke does not protect what’s his.
Kisuke turns. Takes another unnatural step away from his favorite, infuriating puzzle. And then he wrenches himself out of the room, out into the night, closing the window behind him and leaving as unnoticed as he had come.
#i knew you bleach au#bleach au#time travel bleach style#urahara kisuke#kurosaki ichigo#*sigh*#uraichi#might walk this part of the au back if people prefer a non-ship version
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Jumpstart is a character-driven slice of life, containing drama and romance. It's mainly inspired by the show 90210 and the movie Mean Girls.
You had multiple sticky notes on your bedroom ceiling, bathroom mirror, and any other surface you were able to get it on.
How to be rich by 21:
1. Survive high school Survive the final year of high school
2. Move out and get a pet (finally!)
3. Become rich and famous (should be easy enough...)
This list has followed you ever since your eleventh birthday when you were suddenly bombarded with the dreaded question:
‘What is your dream job?’
Quite frankly, you didn’t dream of labour. At least not the regular kind. Call it psychic, but you knew you were destined for the easy life, filled with copious amounts of wealth, relaxation, and travels. You were are special.
Seriously, you had everything set out for your 'rags to riches' story:
You weren’t the most popular, but you also weren’t eating lunch alone in the school bathroom. ✔️
You made sure to work a part-time job, starting from the age of thirteen, so it would be easier for future fans to relate to you. ✔️
You were on your way to being crowned ‘Most likely to be famous’, which would have made for the perfect moment on ‘The Late-Night Phil Show’.✔️
Everything was going to plan… until it wasn’t.
Not only did your mother decide to marry some wealthy businessman, but she also packed up all your stuff and moved you hundreds of miles away from your home that screamed ‘humble beginnings’ and into a five bedroom (minimum) mega mansion.
Oh, and public school? Forget about that. From tomorrow on, you’ll be one of those rich private school kids. Goodbye 'rags to riches' background, and hello nepotism allegations.
Though, that’s a problem for future you...
Right now, you’ll have to adapt to school life the way the people at the top of the food chain do it.
Get ready to ‘survive the final year of high school’ filled with gossip, betrayal, romance, angst, and social drama you could’ve sworn only happened in movies and TV shows.
Jumpstart is rated 18+ as there will be mentions of sexual themes, drugs, alcohol and violence.
Choose your MC's name and gender.
Decide your MC's personality, clothing style, and much more.
Get involved with 1 out of 4 romanceable characters.
Climb to the top of the hierarchy at Maplewood Private School.
Jumpstart your way into the life of stardom and wealth.
Isaiah/India (m/f) 'the high school worldwide heartthrob':
You could’ve sworn you saw them gracing the red carpet in some of the hundreds of magazines stashed in one of your moving boxes. Child of the famous celebrity make-up artist, Naomi Lawton and basketball star, Sean Lawton. Wanted by many, yet only successfully claimed by A. Though, judging by how many people I can be regularly spotted with, it begs the question: Does I care?
Appearance: Sepia skin tone. M! has short coily black hair, mostly styled in cornrows and decorated with some silver hair jewellery. F! has long bleached coily hair, currently styled in waist-length blonde braids.
Alison/Anderson (m/f) 'the school's number one':
Not quite like the ones in movies… they’re somewhat nice? At first, they can be straight-up vicious, ripping apart any and every little detail they can get their hands on, but once you earn their trust, you’ll learn that behaviour is much more of a façade than a true reflection of them.
Appearance: Olive complexion with sprinkles of freckles on their nose and cheeks. M! has short curly ginger hair that loosely hangs over his forehead. F! has shoulder-length ginger curls and bangs.
Tegan (m/f) 'the estranged childhood best friend'
You were eight years old, when their family decided to move someplace else, ripping your, what you thought to be inseparable, bond into two. At the start you tried to keep up, exchanging letters almost every day… then weeks… then months if anything, until complete silence. You’re not sure who stopped sending them first or when even, but one thing’s for certain: you were no longer friends. No, after ten years, you definitely weren’t.
Appearance: Brown skin tone. M! has black buzzed hair. F! has straight, waist-length black hair.
Levi/Leighton (m/f) 'wherever they go, trouble follows aka the school's bad boy/girl':
For someone with a big reputation, there’s next to nothing that can be found on them. And all your pestering questions are met with nothing but warnings, yet you can’t help but grow more curious about them with each passing encounter.
Appearance: Tawny skin tone, though you can’t help but notice the faded scar tainting their otherwise clear left cheek. They have wavy brown hair, reaching down to their shoulders.
Reblogs are more than welcome and thanks for reading!
DEMO TBA
#jumpststart if#masterpost#interactive fiction#cog#choicescript#wip#intro post#choice of games#interactive novel
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Rebellion in the Shadows
Summary: The day before his Matai ceremony, he finds an outsider on his territory.
Pairings: Joseph Anoa’i x Black OC
A/N: This is a story that has been in the works for months. I was unsure of how I wanted to write Joe/Roman’s Character. ( I played around with multiple plot ideas.) This is an alternate universe fiction. So I’m trying to get his character down pack. This story also has a lot of their culture incorporated into a culture I’m creating. So this will be a slow posted story as I don’t want to butcher their culture in any way. ( I also have a culture I created entirely, so I might make a slow transition to that.) Bear with me as this is my first time writing for him completely. I am open to suggestions as well, comments. I deal.. I don’t know where this is taking me so come along for the ride.
Warnings: Explicit. 18 + Minors DNI
Chapter One : Outsider
The amount of adrenaline that charged throughout her running limbs had her oblivious to the pain she was suffering. Step by step, her bare feet being pricked by foreign objects. Her breathing was just as ragged as her matted hair. Her perception obscured, making it difficult to see where she was going.
A strange ringing pierced her ears. Connected with her blurred vision, she stumbled over a bundle of sharp rocks. Her palms took most of the force from her fall, a weak cry escaping her lips. Her wrist sprained, a shooting pain traveling up her arm. The booming sound of an alarm sounding off made it known that she was gone, and it wouldn’t be long before they found her.
She’s blinking, trying to clear her vision, searching her surroundings for some place to shelter for the night. A small, battered brown tent appears into view. Mustering up all the strength she could, her arms and elbows pulled her body close. The pain captures up to her, salty tears flow down her face as she gives in to the anguish. The darkness washes over her, leaving her to await her inevitable fate. A pair of feet halt before her. She goes to plead for help, but her eyes close as she succumbs to the darkness.
Her chest expands and declines, a tight ache between each breath. Low groans leaving her lips. The rugged surface beneath her doesn’t bring an ounce of comfort. The pain from her falling made it painful to move. She blinks a few times, the surrounding space coming into view. She glances at the silver bars in front of her and fear sets in.
Yelling for help would be useless. She examines the area again, the black walls, almost caving in. She observes the open roof, covered with tan-colored thatch. A hint of confusion on her face. This wasn’t where she escaped from. She planted her palms on the ground, grimacing in agony from her wrist being sprained, to force herself up.
“I wouldn’t do that If I were you.”
The heavy, gruff accent scared her, thumping her skull back on the wall with a thump. She reaches back to rub at the spot; searching for a face to match the voice. She could pick up the rustling of keys and a bolt being undone. She covers her ears while the door screeches in the process of being opened. A male figure comes through; his bleach-blonde hair lighting up the area.
She struggled to move, but the pain in her limbs made her pause and groan.
“It’s okay.” He whispers, “won’t hurt you.” He picks her up bridal style. Her arms reached around his neck to keep from slipping. He carried her out of the unfamiliar building. Her face hidden in his shoulder the minute he walked out. The sunlight is much too bright for her sensitive eyes. Her face remained pressed against his shoulder until they arrived at a massive home. Her mouth waters at the smell of whatever was being cooked.
“Yo uce, who is this?”
“The girl Joe found.” He walks over to a vacant couch, settling her down on it. Her grasp tightened on his pullover. He sighs and rubs her back. “We won’t hurt you.”
The new strange voice drew closer. “She looks rough, Solo.” He kneels at her side, reaching to touch her face. The sudden movement causes her flinch.
“I see that, Josh.” He mutters, grasping her arms; being mindful of her wrists to bring them down. “He just ordered me to move her here when she awakens.”
Josh takes in her battered appearance. Her right eye turned black. Her blackened cheeks and a busted lip caked on with dried blood. That wasn’t the worst of it. There’s no telling what was underneath her worn-out clothes.
“Did he say what to do with her?” They watch her glance around, clinging to Solo’s hand.
“No. Just to move her here.”
“Valentina!” Josh shouts. “C’mere a minute.”
“What, babe, we’re cooking—.” She walks into the room, spatula in hand, ready to strike him with it. Josh and Solo step to the side, and her mouth drops. “What happened to her?” She abandons the utensil and dashes to her side. The girl shifts closer to Solo, peering at Valentina wide-eyed.
Solo shrugs, a reassuring grip on her back. “Joe found her and brought her here. Where is he?” He looks around. “He instructed me to bring her here when she wakes up.”
“You know he had his Matai ceremony today. He won’t be back until tonight.” Valentina reaches a hand out to stroke her hair. It felt dry and matted against her fingers. Her eyebrows arch, confused, noticing the note attached to her back. She pulls it out carefully to not alarm her.
Have the ladies clean her up and feed her. I’ll be back tonight.
~ Joe
Josh glances over Valentina’s shoulder. “What’s that baby?”
“Nigga, not even the chief yet, and is already demanding stuff.” She rises, moving into the kitchen. “Solo, can you carry her upstairs to Joe’s room?”
“Uh, carry who?” Another voice comes out, an apparent attitude laced in her tone.
“Tiana frowns.” Valentina turns to Josh. “Jey go help Jimmy finish cooking and send Trinity up.”
Joshua despised cooking, but did anything to avoid dealing with this unusual and frightened girl. Solo picks her up, bridal style. “Who is she?” Tiana frowns. Solo stops in front of her and places a kiss on her head. “Someone Joe found.”
The ladies follow Solo to Joe’s room. His suite being the biggest of them all, with the larger bathroom. He set her inside the tub. “I’ll be outside the door. They won't harm you.” Solo assures the now anxious girl.
Tiana mumbles a “yeah. We’ll see.” Valentina nudes her arm, gathering all the hygiene products they would need. Solo leaves the bathroom, going into the room to stand by. He would receive a mouthful from Tiana afterward, but right now, he was doing as instructed.
“Hey.” Valentina whispers gently, kneeling beside the tub. “I’m Valentina. That’s Tiana.” She peeks at them, quivering. “What’s your name?”
Her mouth moves, but nothing comes out. The hoarse feeling in the back of her throat made it painful to talk. She closes her mouth and looks elsewhere. Tears spilled down her face.
“Okay, your voice is gone.” Tiana murmurs. “Can we take these filthy clothes off and clean you up?” She kneels next to Valentina, who is just as attentive. She nods, letting their delicate hands peel off the shirt and pants.
“Oh my god.” A hand slaps the wall and they glance up. A deeper skinned woman, carrying some clothes in hand, her back now turned to them. Her reaction was called for. The amount of purple and black bruises that littered her frame. Her skin clinging to her bones, causing her ribs to be highly noticeable. Trailing down her legs, old and fresh cut marks, inflamed ankles. The bottom of her feet were calloused and developing scars.
“What happened to her?” Tiana frowns, turning on the water and grabbing the shower head.
“Don’t know, but when Joe sees this. All hell is going to break loose.” She takes a rag and wets it with water and the soap. “This may sting, but we need to get you clean. Trin, mind helping.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just needed a minute.”
The three of them get her clean. The water turned a murky brown and red tint, rinsing away any remnants of dirt and blood. Her hairtaking the longest. Three brushes and a comb damaged, but her hair was washed and smelled of citrus. Trin had managed to get her hair braided into two braids to keep from tangling further. Once done, they wrapped her in a large warm towel, letting Solo hoist her up and take her to the room. There they got her dressed in a set of Tiana’s old clothes. Her little frame being swallowed up in the shirt.
“I think the food is ready. Are you hun- of course you are,” Valentina mumbles, catching herself. She was hungry, but with the way the bed felt, she would rather sleep. She lays back, head touching the fluffy cushions. Her eyes drifted closed.
“Shouldn’t she eat?” Tiana moves to wake her. Solo grabs her hand with the shake of his head.
“Let her sleep.” He stares at her. She had curled up in the middle of the bed, weak snores leaving her mouth.
“She had a rough night.” she had groaned and wept all night in her slumber and there was nothing he could do to ease her suffering. He just wondered what Joe had in mind. Trinity pulls the sheets over her body while Valentina sets a glass of water on the nightstand.
“Joe will be back soon. Hopefully, he knows what to do.”
Zilla’s Villagers: Comment to be apart of the taglist.
@justazzi @yana3sworld @wrestlingprincess80 @abadbitchblogs @courtninacole @kill-the-artiste @destinio1 @kill-the-artiste @reci1996 @mindairy @jeysbaby @daddyhausen
#roman reigns x black!reader#roman reigns x black!character#original character#the tribal chief#roman reigns
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30 Years Old Achievement Unlocked!
Usually, I had a Follow Forever post ready for my birthday, as a thank you for filling my dash and heart with blorbos and fun this year, but today I decided to have a bit more introspective one, looking over the last decade offline and almost same time that I've had on Tumblr. As a reminder for myself and maybe it can give some encouragement to others that are going through the slog of their twenties.
But first, yes, a thank you to people that have deeply shaped this decade, with their presence and sometimes, their absence. I can't ping the person I miss the most, it doesn't reach across the fog that clouds the way beyond the final goodbye, the parting that cannot be spoken, but I can ping the people who helped me stay on this side of the mist, in the aftermath. (In vague alphabetic order.) Thank you for everything, for being there for me through thick and thin, however you're capable, thank you for being you.
@aviss @bienchanter @binary5tar @carrot--cube @cup-ah-jho @deenakahara @fiovske @firesign23 @it-may-be-dull-but-im-determined @justdontevenknow @kdramaxoxo @lostindramas @mesoperi @sdwolfpup @spacepandar @tazzmanien @youholdthewater @zigackly
Also a special thank you, you are amazing and have done for me more than I can explain, to wonderful people of Trigun fandom. You made this year bearable, you pushed me to create more than I have in ages not with violence, but your love for what I had to share. And many of you have become friends I hope to keep for the forthcoming decade!
@aluvian @cosmixseerart @chickiefoo @dingusttmax @fionnrose @ladymaliwan @needle-noggins @noaafishfieldguide @kiaraalazulu @koontyme @madnessmadness @tardisready @zeearts @zillychu
I am definitely forgetting someone in these pings and I will blame it on my old age (just 3% of my entire lifespan, though!) and I am sending all the lovely people I talk with, who interact with my posts and so forth, people I follow, so much love (and Irish coffee cream cake).
Now, onto some loving achievements of the decade:
Survived and accepted my neurodivergence, began to start to accomodate for it and seek help for doing so.
Began participating in fandom.
Published over 170k words for various fandoms.
Learned to gif.
Realized I have checked the box 'No' on sexual & romantic attraction and gender starter package slip.
Conceptualized designs for my tattoos.
Dyed and bleached my hair for the first time. Figured out I like it short.
Continued to develop my style and grow more comfortable with my body and appearance.
Got Wolverine arm implants after I broke it badly.
Left my country and saw a band I love live.
Saw my internet friends in person for the first time.
Sailed on a boat and stood on the edge of sea at midnight, crying from happiness.
Finished education and kept job despite health issues.
Started playing DnD and even DMd a little.
Made my friends laugh so often I lost count.
Laughed often myself.
Took so many photos of things I love.
Learned so many cool animal facts.
Heard new favorite songs and continued to love old ones.
Read things that changed something in my very soul.
Wrote something that inspired a fanart and podfic.
And more and more and more. There is always more, more things that you and I can ever predict, more sorrows, yes, but more joys as well. And I think, looking back at 20 year old me, I'd say... It was worth sticking around for.
So, for the next life year and decade I want to say I'll try to:
Continue learning being kinder to myself, accept my limitations and accomodate them.
Write, write, write.
Take so much more photos.
Laugh until I cry more often.
Make people wheeze.
Travel more and especially to the seaside.
There always will be more to do, but I like these goals.
Thank you again, for everything, and here's to the next year, next decade and next lifetime.
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i hate reposting fan art, i take it very seriously, and i always try to check if something i reblog is drawn by the original poster. anyway, i was scrolling through posts from 2012 the other day and found a really cute fan art of ichihime that i wanted to reblog, but when i checked op's blog, i wasn't very sure if it was original or reposted. the op had only 2 original art pieces - 1) the one i wanted to reblog, 2) a gif art that had a very similar style to #1 and could have been "taken" from the same artist. these are the only "original" bleach posts on this blog. op reblogged all other fan art, so clearly they're not a SERIAL reposter, but they hadn't tagged it with #my art, or anything like that, so i wasn't sure. i wanted to be sure it was theirs before i reblogged it.
my next step was to do a reverse image search, but that wasn't very useful either, because it either led me to pintrest (which is THE place for stolen work), or fanpop (which is, again, not reliable because it was full of stolen fan art). however, even if they weren't the right sources, the sources i found were still useful because the oldest date i could trace for this reposted picture was 2009. this means it definitely had to be drawn/posted in or before 2009, but after 2001, which is when the manga was first published iirc. i used this information to do a custom range search on google using terms like "ichigo, orihime, wedding" etc etc, but again: nothing. i can find renders of this image, edits of this image, the same image but with slightly different details, but i can't find the original poster + original site it was posted in.
i guess for the time being i've decided to give up. i'm not sure what the statute of limitations is for reblogging a post that has old, reposted fan art in it. i'm not sure if the original artist is around or even cares if i reblog a stolen version of their art because i don't know their policy on reposts. some artists are okay with it, others aren't, etc etc. it's entirely possible the op has deleted all social media and taken down the original. it's entirely possible they don't care about bleach anymore and wouldn't have cared if i reblogged it, but that didn't sit right with me either way.
my last resort is to ask if any of you can recognize the following pictures and tell me if you can pinpoint the username of the artist who originally drew it! it's a really gorgeous piece of art, i think it captures ichigo and orihime so well, it filled my heart with so much joy when i first saw it, and if could reblog it a 100x times i would. it's really wonderful that art from more than a decade ago still has the power to travel through the vast ethers of the internet and give us so much joy. i hope op knows that their art has touched a lot of people and made them smile! it made me smile, at the very least, but i digress.
anyway, here it is. please let me know if you have any relevant info!
#now you might be wondering: bee. don't you have a LOT of other things you need to be doing?#well. yes. but i abandoned all those other tasks for this one <3 my unmedicated mind works in mysterious ways#ichihime#<- tagging for visibility
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This one is very personal to me, since its been a year since i got to the whole self growth and manifesting stuff and i write it to remind myself how far ive come yet.
Yesterday i was on my tiktok and i got that "year ago on this day blah blah..." thing and wow i dont recognize the person i used to be anymore!
Me year ago:
- 0 friends (the fake bitches dont count)
- forever single
- stucked in the environment i hated
- low self esteem, goddamn hatred towards myself
- ugly ass short hair, ruined by bleaching and hair dye, literally looked like straw, very stiff in texture
- no makeup skills, my sense of style was very questionable
- terrible mental health
- underweight and flat lol
- very pesimistic about future, even scared of it
- none existent social life
Me now:
- has great friends who respect and care about me
- quite popular
- in relationship with the best guy i've ever met
- confident af, bad bitch energy
- has thick wavy hair, dyed back to their natural brown color, soft and shiny
- loves herself
- takes much more care of her skin and hair
- gained some weight (in form of muscles), has strong body build and thicc clepsidra shape
- prettier face (got rid of baby face and finally look my age, more prominent cheekbones etc)
- found a hairstyle that suits me perfectly
- better makeup and clothing style
- radiates feminine energy
- mentally stable, doesnt need therapist or antidepressant and is doing great
- ambitious and looking forward to what future holds
- has a odd job, makes a lot of money weekly and can afford anything she wants
- travels a lot, goes to many parties and concerts
"I'm going to glow up one more time"
#manifesting#law of assumption#neville goddard#affirmations#manifestation#desired reality#success story#law of attraction#personal#subliminal#personal growth#self care#wonyoungism#glow up
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Independent Sources
Minors DNI 18+ possible smut ahead.
Summary: Storm makes a deal for information not easily accessible.
All characters are 18+
Again, Minors DNI
The church was a tall imposing building. Dark stone carved to reflect the Victorian Gothic style. High arches, wide spaces, patterns whispering of old gods. Gargoyles standing or crouching, proud wings and binding chains on display. The heavy ash wood door, gleaming with fresh polish despite the many hands that push those doors each night. The call of pleasure spilled out the door to greet You like an old friend. Cloth draped from the beams of the church in various shades of purple and blue. The materials are mostly silk or sheer cloth. The room is always near hazy with perfumed smoke. A scent of carnal pleasure and burning woods. Braziers of dancing flames are set up at various points. Casting extreme shadows along the stone walls. Piles of pillows, low sitting couches, and rugs can be seen all over. Their fabrics are worn but all still beautiful. Doors line up along one of the walls. A peek shows various dungeons from the mundane to the extreme. Most are occupied but others are bare and cold. Music can be heard thumping throughout the building, like a heartbeat to a titan of pleasure. Above it all at the back of the church sits a dais leading up to a throne made of ash wood and silver. The throne while pretty is not what draws Your eye. No, it’s the giant spider web of red rope framed in the churches cathedral window. And in the middle of this web is a person. They are clad head to toe in black, form fitting latex. They seem to be squirming in pleasure but not a single sound is heard from them.
Chos sits on the throne tonight. Lounged back like a bored lion. You know he is anything but.
"Hello dear." Chos's voice floats just under the music but you can hear like a clear bell. "Been a long time since You decided to darken out doorstep, darling. You look exquisite as always." You had dressed like you were going to a event. Navy corset vest paired with a silver tie. Black slacks and a white shirt sleeve button up. Simple bracelets and a single silver ring decorated your arms. Nothing too eye catching. Nothing that can be pulled or interfere with a fight. You knew the rules of the court and you were not here to be a threat.
"I need a favor."
Chos tilted his head to the side. "Oh. And here I thought we would have to drag you back into the fold. But you always did have your priorities straight. Shall we take this to the lower levels then?"
You nodded. Chos hummed as he stood up. A member of security approached as Chos stepped away from the throne. The throne was never unguarded. Many had learned that the hard way. Chos beckoned you deeper into the cathedral. The cathedral wasnt bound to the rules of reality as some places were and it was always amazing to walk through the paths outside of your reality. Stone became wood. Wood became soft grass. Soft grass became a lightly traveled path through olive orchards. A small dirt path became the base of a temple.
The Temple stood above you, solid and unyeilding in its alabaster glory. But something was off. The braziers were dark with long burnt charcol. The carvings were covered in moss and vines, obscuring the stories and warnings. The wood and bronze of the doors was bleached and tarnished. It took you a minute to recongize it, but you were oddly sad to see it in such a state. You glance at Chos.
”She really kept it up?”
Chos chuckled. “She had hope, as strange as it is. And look, here you are.”
You licked your lip nervously. “I need Information. A Group has been giving my current employer some trouble to put it lightly.”
Chos hummed. “You work covert ops, darling. You’re bound to run into issues eventually. So why the need for information?”
You hummed as you sat on the temple steps. “This group has displayed abilities and tactics associated with well, our side of the world.” You pull out your phone and quickly pulled up a video.
The video was taken from security footage. You watched Chos’s reaction as the personnel rushed the scene of what appeared to be a shooting only to slump lifelessly to the floor as smoke choked them out. The smoke condensed and pressed itself into a vague human shape before forming a solid person. Another being entered the frame and snapped their fingers. A corpse at their feet sharply jerked before pushing itself up to its feet. Chos’s face twitched into a minute frown. The three exit the frame not long after that.
You take a deep breath. “That was two months ago. Since then, there have been other robberies and multiple ambushes. We tracked them back to a group known as Váli. A pharmaceuticals company specializing in biotech. On our side, Cryptozoology and Less than savory experiments on humans. Unfortunately, the trail ends there. Orochi is as tight lipped as ever. Man, I never understood how she managed to get them to bend an ear."
Chos hummed. "She is rather good at getting what she wants but then again best to feed her so she doesn't eviscerate you on sight. Orochi deals heavily in her favorite food. I can get you names and possible last known locations. But you know the rules, I will need something in return."
Storm leaned back against the steps. "One night. I return for one full night."
Chos smiled, a cruel thing. “Deal.”
--
Kate jerked as a loud thump landed right next to her head. She stared at the tall stack of files on her desk. Her eyes traced the hand resting on top to Storm’s face before blinking and rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She looked down at the files again. It clicked.
“Storm?” A light hum came in response. “How did you get these?”
Storm chuckled. “I made a deal with a sibling.”
kate narrowed her eyes. “What kind of sibling, Storm?”
Storm hummed as they tapped their fingers on top of the stack. “The kind that sheltered me when no one else would.”
#call of duty x reader#cod mw2#taskforce 141#eld writes#storm au#kate laswell#141 x reader#captain john price#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick
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—ocs as obscure references
tagged by @perpetuagf
tagging (no presh); @unhingedselfships @trixibebe @kulemii @ariesfaeries @majimemegoro
ANIMAL: black cats and falcons
COLORS: lilac, dusty rose, cream
MONTH: april
SONGS: sun bleached flies, ethel cain | until…, mejibray | dream my darling, lynda kay | you’ll never leave harlan alive - ruby friedman orchestra | ageha - mucc
NUMBER: 11 & 2 the justice & the high priestess
PLANTS: daisies, dutch clover, yarrow
SMELLS: honey, lemon, white flower, books
GEMSTONE: taafeite, rose quartz
TIME OF DAY: 5:45pm
SEASON: between winter and spring
PLACES: on her couch, nobles holler, murder room, la county courthouse
FOOD: pickled vegetables, leftover rice, salmon, scrambled eggs, apples
DRINKS: cheap beer, apple cider, coffee
ELEMENT: metal
ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS: aries❂ taurus❍ pisces↑
SEASONINGS: ginger root
SKY: an eerie, crisp, blank light blue sky
WEATHER: dry and windy
MAGICAL POWER: telepresence
WEAPONS: wit
SOCIAL MEDIA: aol. it's not social media but back then ┐(´ー｀)┌
MAKEUP PRODUCT: concealer
CANDY: life savers
METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL: an unconscious flight
ART STYLE: inio asano
FEAR: going home
MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: stheno
PIECE OF STATIONARY: yellow legal pad
THREE EMOJIS: 😐😒🌼
CELESTIAL BODY: comets
#tag games#oc spewage#oc; shasta shizuka days#oc; good days#thank you for tagging me!!! <3#IF YOU GOT A NOTIF FROM ME EARLIER IT'S BECAUSE I HIT POST WHEN I WASN'T READY MY BAD
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I was tagged by so so many wonderful followers but i do not have enough spoons to gather everyone I’m so so sorry, thank you so much for the tags 🩵
B A S I C S of Zee
-Name: Zee Zalinos
-Nicknames: ‘Zee’ is such a short name she doesn’t often get nicknames.
-Age: 28
-Nameday:
-Race: Raen Au’ra
-Gender: Female
-Orientation: Bisexual/Pansexual
-Profession: White Mage, traveling healer, crafter, and carer of disabled creatures~
P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T S
-Hair: Thick, slightly wavy, white hair. Once she had pink highlights, but around mid-Shadowbringers they were completely bleached away and have never grown back in. She chopped her long hair to chin-shoulder length hair around the beginning of Endwalker and has been wearing it in its much more free-ly/naturally styled way than before when she took tedious care of straightening and putting it into different long hairstyles.
-Eyes: Zee’s left eye is a blue-green color and her right a bright pink with light blue limbal rings around each. Her limbal rings turn white white she is casting magic and their glow intensity growing stronger the longer she’s been without performing the ritual to release the pooling of aether within her.
-Skin: Light cool blue~
-Tattoos/scars: her biggest scars are the one from her two amputations, her left arm stump and her right leg stump (with her right leg having the most prolific and obvious scaring which is why she always keeps it covered).
F A M I L Y
-Parents: Thought to be deceased / disappeared (more about them coming soon I’ve been working on Zee’s family lore)
-Siblings: Thought to be deceased / Disappeared
-Grandparents: All dead but her grandmother on her mother’s side was very close with Zee as a child and taught her so much about healing magics. That grandmother was the same one to encourage her dreams of traveling and cooking.
-In-laws and Other: Sadu Dotharl and Erenville are Zee’s main two significant others~
-Pets: Calling them her pets would NOT be something that Zee does but her island sanctuary is filled with tons of disabled creatures from all over the world! She cares for their needs and builds them mobility aids for their needs with the help of her friends.
S K I L L S
Abilities:
~Able to store up aether over time, if she isn't careful this can result in an aether ‘bomb’ where the stored aether explodes out when she cannot handle anymore in her body. (By ‘store up’ its more of a water balloon type deal, she can carry over a certain amount of aether but once she becomes to ‘thin’ in places she will pop)
~Created the ‘Blood Lily Rage’ spell which allows her to enter a raged state using her own blood to fuel her boost in strength and ability. She is faster, able to cast everything near immediately, and her mind is blanketed in a haze that covers up her pain, feeling and most of her personality.
~Has been learning how to craft magic accessibility items for those who need them but are unable to travel to the big cities (or at all) to get the items they need. Zee works with a good friend of hers, Ellaeuxlynn, for crafting mobility aids and other more personalized accessibility items.
Hobbies:
-Crafting for others in her spare time
-Gardening and cooking with what shes grown!
-Zee isn’t very good at taking time for herself so her hobbies are mostly other jobs she does to keep busy and distracted from her pain.
T R A I T S
-Most Positive Trait: Caring, if there is one thing that Zee is she is caring, a ‘natural’ healer and hero
-Most Negative Trait: Self Sacrificing, she will give up all of herself if someone she loves asks her to.
L I K E S
-Colors: Pastel Blue, Midnight Blue, (in the past her favorites have been pastel green and iris pink as well)
-Smells: Petricore / rain, citrus, musk, flowers (specifically lilacs, honeysuckle, and hyacinths)
-Textures: soft and plush, smooth and sharp, the roughness of stone and the smoothness of silk.
-Drink: Hot teas mostly
O T H E R D E T A I L S
Smokes: No~
Drinks: Rarely, and when she does she barely drinks any
Drugs: Zee often deals with her chronic pain with shrug usage~ Zee and Erenville can often be found sharing a smoke in the middle of the night under the stars.
Mount Issuance: Her beloved chocobo Ariadne has been getting more and more rest and treats in her stable as Zee is often flying with Ehll Tou while not doing her Warrior of Light duties and spending her time crafting. But she can often be seen riding a blue and white mechanical flying horse in her battle armor as well.
Been Arrested: Nope~
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Roleplaying Races 13: Svirfneblin
(art by Krasgar on DeviantArt)
We’ve covered drow, the duergar, and even the newer munavri. Now we finally round out the collection of the trope of “traditional goodly race, but underground and changed by it.” Enter the svirfneblin! (pronounced Sverf-neh-blin, for those of you that have trouble with that letter salad.)
The best I was able to find about the real-world origins of the word “svirfneblin” is that it was likely of Scandanavian origin, possibly borrowing words from Germanic languages, particularly referring to “People of the Mists”. No information on who or what those were as far as I can tell, which isn’t surprising given the sheer lack of sources on Norse myth (and those two sources we have being colored by political and religious agendas). In any case, the word got taken by Gygax and Arneson and made into a subterranean version of gnomes who, most notably, were not forced underground, but willingly led there by a certain deity.
However, this is the Pathfinder version we’re talking about, so things are a little different. Svirfneblin are kin to gnomes, though they have been changed by their time below ground (though not as dramatically as spriggans, though their origins are linked.)
Indeed, like spriggans, the origin of svirfneblin in Pathfinder is tied to their reaction to the Bleaching: a malaise that saps the color and joy from gnomes that stop seeing the wonder of the world, either killing them or transforming them into serious, bitter creatures. Whereas spriggans grew to hate the relatively dull Material Plane, their anger twisting them into violent fey; the svirfneblin instead traveled underground and became bonded to the earth, staving off the bleachlings by becoming more like the fey of the underground. Whether it was the energies of the deep earth, interbreeding with their pech cousins, or the blessing of their patron deity Nivi Rhombodazzle, the Bleaching no longer affected them, though they had become different beings.
For the most part, svirfneblin resemble gnomes in physical form, though with key differences. Males are bald, only maintaining the prominent eyebrows or beards seen in other gnomes, while females have thin, stringy hair at best. Most of their hair color tends to be pale or stark white, though this is not a sign of bleaching. Their skin also tends to be the greys of the stone they tend to live surrounded by as well.
Svirfneblin tend to be insular and guarded around other ancestries, keeping to themselves mostly, though true friends can become trusted with the location of their settlements. Deep gnomes seem dour to most, but they can prove quite emotional at times, likely reflecting their enhanced fey nature. Though individual governing styles may vary, these gnome-kin are survivors first, so they typically think of the community first when it comes to decisions.
Svirfneblin are agile and empathetic, but their small size makes them physically weak, and their isolation makes them distant from others.
The dangers of the underground are many, so most deep gnomes train to dodge and avoid incoming attacks.
Being a darklands people, their night vision is nearly unparalleled.
With a bit of luck from their patron deity, these gnome-kin are a bit luckier in avoiding harm.
They are also perceptive and often trained in alchemy, to say nothing of their skill at remaining unseen, especially in rocky terrain.
The deep gnomes also have a long history of conflict with duergar, kobolds, and troglodytes, so they train to better fight them.
While not as famous for it, svirfneblin have a similar understanding of stone that dwarves do.
Like many denizens of the deep, they have a natural resistance to the energies of magic which can come in handy in a pinch.
They also possess a handful of natural magics, ranging from protection from divination, blurring their appearance, disguising themselves as someone else, and cursing a foe with the loss of a sense.
Of course, some svirfneblin are built different. Some have exceptional resistance to poison and disease, meanwhile some still train to fight the evil fey they originally went underground to keep in check, being both skilled in slaying them and resilient against their magic. Finally, some deep gnomes are stone seers, able to shape, speak with, and enchant stone rather than their typical inherent magics.
With their dexterity and wisdom, svirfneblin lend themselves quite well to wisdom casters, stealthy characters, and ranged characters, with cleric, druid, gunslinger, ranger, rogue, and shaman being natural choices. They do have the typical Small ancestry debuff to strength, making direct melee builds unfavorable to them. However, the massive penalty to charisma means you have to work HARD to make any social role or charisma caster work. Even then, don’t be afraid to experiment here. There are ways to make even the most “sub-optimal” build work.
That will do for today, but we will continue on tomorrow!
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We need more fic (or like... any...) where Ichigo travels back in time, does his whole angsty thing where he tries to save the universe while grappling with the fact that none of his loved ones know him, BUT THEN KISUKE FIGURES IT OUT.
Give me a fresh-from-the-onmi Captain Urahara who realizes that this strange Shiba is from the future, is trying to prevent an apocalypse by assassinating a threat, and has a fascinating amount of himself and Yoruichi in his fighting style.
Give me a Kisuke who realizes that, at one point, Ichigo meant the world to him. That he himself still means the world to Ichigo. That Ichigo will never tell him this of his own volition, because Ichigo is trying to protect him.
Give me Kisuke and Tessai and Yoruichi slowly becoming super protective of Ichigo as they try to pin down who, exactly, Ichigo is to them.
Give me a broken-hearted Ichigo, who one day turns around and finds support where he thought he had permanently lost it.
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OCS as OBSCURE ASSOCIATIONS
Tagged by @perpetuagf like a month ago and i am only now getting round to it but i am doing it for alan wake au livia cause she's occupying my brain right now
ANIMALS: Black eel hiding amidst the rocks at the bottom of a lake
COLORS: black, moss green
MONTH: August.
SONGS: Ritual -KAVARI, Wicked Game - Lignua Ignota, 6666668881.. 0 1. heaven help us_ 80000 squeals of dying pigs . exe [crack] - Echavox, S280F
NUMBER: 14, number of victims
PLANTS: redwood trees
SMELLS: Swamp moss, bleach, wet concrete
GEMSTONE: Black Opal
TIME OF DAY: night
SEASON: autumn
PLACES: Basements, lakes, empty motels, dark corners
FOOD: Cheap diner food
DRINKS: Black coffee
ELEMENT: Water
ASTROLOGICAL SIGNS: leo, virgo
SEASONINGS: thyme
SKY: dark overcast at night
WEATHER: rain and fog
MAGICAL POWER: never staying dead, being reborn over and over
WEAPONS: camcorder
SOCIAL MEDIA: myspace
MAKEUP PRODUCT: smudged black eyeliner
CANDY: strawberry laces
METHOD OF LONG DISTANCE TRAVEL: driving her truck
ART STYLE: brutalism
FEAR: shadows in the dark
MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURE: harpy
PIECE OF STATIONARY: biro pen and coffee stained note pad
THREE EMOJIS: 📹⚫🏛️
CELESTIAL BODY: Canopus
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That Time the 9th Division Revolutionized Gotei Dining
When I think about what I most want to see Bleach characters doing, it is either admin, eating, or the most depraved crimes imaginable. And when I think about how I want food to work in the Gotei, my guiding light is what I think would be the most fun. Generally, this means I think the Gotei should be run like a Girl Scout camp.
In general, my headcanon is that:
Like everything else within divisions, how food works really depends on the Division's particular whimsy. But in most divisions, there's a kaper chart and every week you're assigned to a chore in addition to whatever it is shinigami do all day: cooking, various forms of cleaning, etc. (Some divisions choose to outsource much of this to the pros at the 4th.) If you're deployed into the Rukongai hinterlands or the Living World, your kaper duties are either replaced by similar duties within your deployment group, or you're wandering around the Living World solo like some kind of contestant on Alone.
When you're on cooking duty, your group decides what you're capable of cooking in bulk, within budget. This might mean the same rice and soup every meal every day of the week if you get a cooking crew that's not into it. Others are more excited about cooking and sharing things they like. Matsumoto's tenure in the kitchen pre-VCship is somewhat legendary for its inventiveness. Usually, every meal there's just the one option, but some divisions offer a Set Meal A and B, and some have specialties that persist regardless of which shinigami are specifically in the kitchen.
Shinigami usually eat at their own mess halls in their division, but depending on where their duties take them or how far they're willing to travel, they can eat at other divisions for a fee.
These mess halls are separate from the various restaurants in Soul Society, though the restaurants are pricey. (The mess halls aren't FREE per se; you just don't have to pay when you go because a portion of your paycheck is automatically held back for meals. You're paying whether you eat there or not.)
Then there's the 9th. The 9th under Kensei, and then Tousen, and then Kensei again. By Kensei's tenure, the 9th was already well on its way to sub-specializing in multiple ways throughout the division--there's people doing stints in the SC editorial office, people specializing in field assignments in Team Muguruma. And then there's the 9th Division canteen, staffed by shinigami who still work their normal shinigami duties, but work primarily in the kitchens. They've gotten REALLY good at it.
But it's kind of a best-kept secret, because this is what the 9th Division mess hall looks like from the outside:
After being charmed by the incredible curb appeal of the 9th Division mess hall, you walk in and there's a whole wall with different meals you can order, cafeteria-style.
Each has a little slip of paper with the name of your meal and the price!
The "Stamina Don" is a very popular choice for lunching shinigami.
Once you've made your choice, you take it to the shinigami working at the order window:
And when your order is yelled out, you come back to the front and pick up your meal on a tray and grab whatever utensils and toppings you need. As pictured here, Soul SocieTV is playing nonstop in the 9th Mess Hall.
After your meal, you can enjoy some tea on these very Soul Society Approved couches:
Always the sort to embrace idiosyncrasy, the 9th Division mess hall is the only place in all of Soul Society that stocks these elegant Jesus mugs (so they know that you stole it, should a patron happen to "accidentally" walk off with one).
They also stock copies of the SC for your reading pleasure. This edition is extolling the wonderment that is "Smallmouth Disneyland," the Seireitei's annual bass fishing competition.
The 9th likes to keep all of this on the DL, because it's *amazing* that there's a mess in the Seireitei with dedicated cooks (well, their official employment is a 25/75, with 75% cooking and 25% Shinigami Stuff), and so many different options to choose from at every meal, and they don't want it too get too crowded/so popular as to be unsustainable.
Still, there's a small cabal of non-9th division folks in the know (Hisagi's Friends, mostly. Minus Matsumoto), which the 9th is fine with because their patronage = additional revenue for the mess hall, but overall it's probably the only secret in the history of Soul Society anyone has been able to keep successfully.
Ironically, this mess hall is also where Aizen, Tousen, and Ichimaru held a lot of their after-hours secret planning meetings.
#this is my favorite japanese restaurant in the entire us of a; of course i had to bleach brain it#no one's doing it like them truly#i hadn't been since pre-pandemic and had to cross an international border to go but the vibes are 1000% worth it#please feel free to love the 9th division mess hall as much as i do#bleach headcanons#shinigamiology#no brain just bleach
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Here comes Mr. Jonathan Harker, all dressed-up and dapper.
Overall, I picture him preferring natural tones, leaning into a forest palette when he can get away with it. The few suits he had before this were meticulously cared for, if secondhand and a touch out of date. In honor of the First Big Business Trip, Mr. Peter Hawkins maybe fudged a little extra purely businesslike concern for their office’s image, and maybe insisted on giving his unofficial son favorite young solicitor a trip to the tailor to get a fresh professional wardrobe to meet their noble Transylvanian client in.
A wardrobe that Jonathan ‘Saving Every Cent for the Wedding’ Harker never quite dared to dream of. The little red traveler’s journal was his own personal purchase; a small softcover thing that could easily be tucked into his closest layers for safekeeping. (Small and soft enough that it would go unnoticed in the future during less than consenting changes of clothes.)
The second look comes after…well. You can probably guess. A whole lot of black with only a very small pop of autumnal—one might even say arterial—deep russet red. The scarf that he wears out, always in tandem with high collars and covering cravats. It strikes Mina that he has a strange way of fretting about having his neck uncovered these days. She will have a chilling flash of Lucy when, as he was drifting off, she had asked why he took to wearing so much black. His answer, half-sleeping:
“I cannot know if they had a funeral. Who knows if anyone noted their absence?” His throat locks at the last word. “Someone must mourn. Just in case.”
He sleeps. She strokes the new shock-silver cutting through the dark of his hair and does not ask again.
These are his major ensembles up to a point.
For a minor spoiler, take a look at outfit number three:
An understated style, relying mainly on the power of its accessories and daring hair styling bleaching ???. It sports a hodgepodge of inventory he picks up over the course of the book. A trusty shovel, a wreath of garlic blossoms, a silver cross, a loaded revolver, a lovely statement piece in the very weighty Kukri knife.
All that and a very singular smile.
One that we won’t see for quite a few chapters, but will inevitably leave an impression on its witness. To quote directly:
‘Harker smiled—actually smiled—the dark bitter smile of one who is without hope; but at the same time his actions belied his words, for his hands sought the hilt of the great Kukri knife and rested there.’
It’s a hell of a look on you, Mr. Harker. Can’t wait to see it in action.
#in which our favorite solicitor is all dolled up for some travel some trauma and some terror*#*not necessarily his own#jonathan harker#fashion#dracula#dracula daily
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Chapter Three
I’ve taken to my sketchbook this summer. I bring it down to the beach every morning, and after my eight o’clock swim I sit on my beach towel and draw for about an hour. Sometimes I draw from my imagination, and sometimes I draw from life. If there’s a person walking along the shore I will challenge myself to capture them in a few rapid strokes of my pencil before they’ve moved too far away for me to continue, or if a house is cast in interesting light that day I’ll try to capture it with a few fluid strokes of paint from my travel watercolour kit and a thick brush. I don’t show my drawings to anybody because I’d be too embarrassed to, but they aren’t for anybody else either. I don’t paint or draw to get approval, it feels like the one area of my life where I can be free of judgement, able to create something without being marked or graded or compared to somebody else.
I usually work on my sketchbook until my phone alarm buzzes at half past nine. This is the time that I know Kelly and Claire will be getting out of bed and I’m usually starving by then anyway. I meet them back at the mobile home and we walk together into the village cafe to buy a bag of pastries and cups of hot coffee for breakfast.
“It’s cloudy.” Kelly observes one morning in early July. We amble over the sandy boardwalk towards the beach and settle in together onto a bench outside the local surf shack.
“Not a day for the beach” Claire agrees, looking up at the sky, a woolly grey shawl wrapped around the cliffs. It had been clear and bright earlier, but a mist had settled in during the last hour and blurred the sea and sky into one . I wonder what we’ll do today if we won’t be hanging out on the beach again. I tell them that the water is still warm, and if they want to go for a swim it might be nice all the same, but they disagree. The clouds furthest away are black and filled with rain, and neither of them wants to get their hair wet.
The village is so much busier this week now that the primary school children have finished up for the summer. Small children and families mill about, a constant stream going in and out of the surf shack, buying ice cream cones and slotting coins into arcade machines. There’s something very retro about this place, the kind of sun bleached seaside haunt that looks as though it’s sat here in the sand unchanged for fifty years. The Beach Boys are playing over the speakers and a middle aged man with white hair and a Hawaiian style shirt is serving coffees and bags of chips over the counter inside as he sings along. The shelves behind him are stacked with bottles of suncream, cans of fizzy drinks, first aid implements, and T-Shirts that all feature the same cartoonish shark with a wide grin. They truly have everything.
The Hawaiian shirt man comes out to the front of the shack to add a poster to the community notice board and gives us a grin when Kelly calls out a hello to him.
“Well girls.” He says and ambles over towards us, moving in that slow, easy way that people who live on the beach year round do. “Lovely weather eh?”
“Yeah sure.” Kelly snorts. “Grand auld day.”
“Nice one for the surf though.” He looks over his shoulder where a line of children in wetsuits are heading towards the shore. It’s true, the waves are bigger now than they have been since the storm last week. “Ye wouldn’t think of signing up for the camp would you?” We laugh, clearly the surf camp is not intended for girls our age.
“I see that Liam is helping out with it again this year.” Kelly says, gesturing to a young man loading surfboards into a beach buggy behind us. “Good on him. He’s got his work cut out with all these children running around. ”
The boy who is apparently called Liam hears this, and he calls out to us from the surfboard shed. “Havoc, sure they go mad once the boards are brought out, most of the work is to control the crowd.” He has a boyish grin and classic surfer looks. His curly blonde hair is lighter than the tan on his face, and a tiny scar above his eyebrow stands out white against golden brown. He comes over and places a hand on the back of the older man’s neck, shaking him playfully. “Skiving off again are you dad? Out here chatting shite to the women as usual.”
He smiles at us “Good to have you back again Kelly, and you’ve brought some friends?”
“Yes,” She says. “Liam, this is Evie and Claire, Evie and Claire, this is Liam. And his dad Anthony.” Liam shakes our hands, and I feel shy when he looks at me. His eyes are very blue.
“Will you all be coming to the karaoke night later on?” He points to the flyer that his dad pinned up on the notice board moments earlier. “It’ll be in the pub down on the quay. It’s always great fun, at least I always think so.”
“I’m not sure about that.” I laugh. The idea of standing up in front of strangers and singing is making my cheeks feel hot already. For me, being observed at all sometimes feels like a horrifying ordeal. Liam smiles “Are you a bit shy, Evie?” Again, I blush.
“She’ll be grand when she gets there.” Kelly says. “It’ll be a bit of fun. What do you think, Claire?” Claire shrugs and sips her coffee. “Could be good. I can’t sing but I don’t mind karaoke.”
“We’ll see you all there.” Says Liam decisively, and then looks over at the children waiting on the beach. “Better get to work.” He races back over to the beach buggy, hops in and drives it over the boardwalk towards the sea. We say our goodbyes to Anthony too, and we three are alone together again Kelly nudges me sharply in the ribs. “What about him?” I pretend not to know what she’s talking about. “What about him? Seems like a friendly person to me. A very normal boy.”
She rolls her eyes. “What about him for you? Do you think he’s good looking?”
“Yes I suppose.” I admit “But he’s not really my type.”
“If he’s not your type then who is?”
I feel interrogated. I don’t know how to explain it to her, but the idea of being romantically attached to Liam in any way makes me panicky. There’s nothing wrong with him, it just feels like too much pressure. “I don’t know, I just think he’s more your type and not mine.”
My attempt to flip the focus onto her backfires. “Oh, so he’s not good enough for you, but he’s good enough for me?” I feel like she is deliberately misunderstanding me.
“No…” I say, trying to keep my voice steady. How do I explain that if I like a boy, I want the connection to happen organically? I don’t want to be set up like some loveless little freak who needs someone to hold her hand through the dating process. I want to meet somebody and feel comfortable enough to get to know them without the pressure of my friends watching me from the sidelines, judging my every move, coaching me in what to say and how to act, and then forcing me through the humiliating debrief period after. I feel like I’m a pitiful project sometimes, a specimen in a lab labelled ‘never had a boyfriend… and is also very weird.’
I don’t say any of this though, and as usual I end up apologising to her. I tell her that I’ll try talking to him at the karaoke night and we leave it at that.
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#sims#sims 4#ts4#simlit#sims 4 story#sims story#writing#fiction#romance#sims 4 storytelling#sims4 storytelling#sims storytelling#lucky girl part 1
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hi, i’m in love with your damianoxreaderxethan series😍 since the VMAs I can’t stop thinking about that moment on the pink carpet where Ethan looked at Damiano’s chest then turned and Damiano looked at Ethan. Imagine, like, the thoughts that would be running in reader’s mind just looking at that video sitting on the couch and then, like, touching herself and sending a video to them. I mean, just a thought maybe not even a real request but…I honestly can’t stop thinking about it.
psst lemme tell you a lil secret: im in love with it too!
i really really like this idea. infact i like it somuch that i have compiled a lot of notes & some paragraphs of the opening. i love the throuple somuch that i take any excuse to write about them so i could easily dive into this& dedicate my spare time to it
however, that would possibly slow down this months chapter of stained sheets, so yall gotta let me know which you'd rather read first, some throuple smut or chapter 24 of stained sheets
‼️also also ALSO if yall have any ideas of positions you want the throuple to do, let me know! cos i havent quite decided that part yet so give me some smutty inspo‼️
anyways, heres my lil beginning
"Do blondes have more fun?" You asked of Ethan, getting him alone as the makeup artist walked away to set up more things on the countertop.
Before he could answer, Damiano had come over, standing next to you. "No, blondes have more cum."
Ethan rolled his eyes. "Charming."
The two of them were getting ready for the Video Music Awards, Måneskin's second year of attending and performing. It had been decided that Ethan would wear a long blonde wig, along with Damiano's freshly bleached hair, they were all going to be blonde for the night.
There was still time before they had to leave the hotel. You wouldn't be accompanying them to the awards show, once their makeup was done and they were fully styled, you would be spending the night with the other members of their travelling team. But there was still fun to be had in this lead up to the event. You had watched the VMAs with them many times, now you were going to be seeing them at the VMAs. It wasn't just an average day at work for them, this was one of the things you had dreamt of with them and there was excitement in the air of your hotel suite.
For now the nerves weren't getting to them too much. All they had to do was stay still and have makeup applied, no more rushing to rehearsals or sound checks, they could slow down, there was time to breathe. There was time for Ethan to really look in the mirror and decide how he liked this different hair colour. The wig was pinned down securely and the lace was glued to his forehead.
"I've been a blonde longer than you, so I'm the authority here." Damiano said.
You hadn't been able to take your eyes off of Ethan yet. "Do you like it?"
"Yeah." He said, his fingers playing through the light strands. "I really think I'm pulling it off."
"You definitely are. But it's pretty hard to find something you look bad wearing." Damiano said.
"I don't know what it is about it, but it's bringing out this kind of androgynous quality. It's always there, it's just in you." You said. "But with this wig on, it's all I can see. You're giving me more genderfuck than usual and it's quite stunning."
Sassily, Ethan flipped the hair back from one shoulder. "Oh, so I'm stunning now? I'm bringing stunning to the VMAs, well somebody has to."
"Yas baby, feel your oats." Damiano encouraged.
You were interrupted by the makeup artist requesting Ethan at the other side of the room. Before leaving the two of you behind, he tossed the long blonde hair in your direction, getting both of you to laugh. He sat down in the chair and the artist was quite quickly applying products to his face.
Before you could decide what you were going to do next, Damiano had grabbed your elbow. He made a gesture for you to head even further away from Ethan, over to the doors that led to the balcony. You walked with him, he slid the doors open and you followed him outside. He didn't start talking until the doors were securely shut again, any conversation from inside blocked out.
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