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beansidhebumbling · 6 months

Note

Wait I have another one:

Ship of your choice but Person A accidentally seals the mate bond with Person B after doing body shots and sucking a lime out of their mouth. 🙂

The Chemistry of Regret

Okay I had to do college AU Rhysta for this. Hope you like!! This got out of control.

Also the first hands then voice structure is inspired by a line in the fabulous @bittermuire's The Cape which you can read here. Read it!!

Nesta knows of Rhysand Velaris long before she ever has the dubious pleasure of making his acquaintance.

He haunts the Biochemistry department like a spectre.

His overly styled hair gleaming even in the faded newspaper clipping framed outside Professor Wysten's lab.

His black eyes sparkling in picture after picture on the college's socials. Medals and grants and awards the only weight that anchors the Prince of Oíchad College.

The golden boy of the hallowed halls, gone but not forgotten.

And Nesta, living the cruel life of a fresh PhD student grows to hate that curving smirk of a stranger, his sloping signature on the near-empty bottle of Trypan Blue that Wysten refuses to bin, his crisp embroidered lab coat that lies draped over a chair in the dry lab awaiting the return of its owner.

***

Imitator, the dye taunts each time she stains her cells watching blue seep into their crevices, a damning marker of death.

Imposter, the message Wysten imparts in every gushing compliment he in his absence is bestowed that she in her unfailing presence is never good enough to earn.

Lesser, a voice, that must be his, whispers in her ear as she lies awake and wonders if life should feel easier than this.

***

His return from his year in Paris is anticipated like a public holiday. Outfits planned between centrifuge spins, tables booked at his favourite club.

The days are counted down in blood red Xs on the calendar in the study room and when D-day arrives the entire department leaves in a flurry into the cool chill of a January night.

The building is empty, only she and security remains.

Nesta is eager to take advantage of the free slots on the flow cytometer, normally booked until the wee hours. As the sequins on her dress dance like stars and the machine whirs quietly in the background, she runs her cells and finds solace in solitude.

But her cells are soon studied, peace is temporary and then she's queuing on Court Street to enter the Night Palace.

She can feel the bass in her bones as she enters, the dim lighting making the whirling mass of bodies on the dance floor look like art.

***

She has a plan, stay for a drink, long enough to be seen by the tenured professors, long enough to look like she belongs, long enough that she'll be able to nod and smile at the lunch-time conversation.

Not so long that the loneliness erodes her from the inside out, corroding through tissue and bone.

That is the plan.

But then Gwyn, the pretty lab assistant has Sambuca and Emerie has rum and the strobe lights start looking closer to shooting stars.

With alcohol loosed limbs she remembers how much she likes to dance, how the pain of being seen has never stung when there is a rhythm to movement.

So between shots she moves until she gets lost in the art of writhing bodies.

***

She is on the dance floor, hair loose and glitter trailing from her eyes like tears when she meets him.

First, he is large veined hands tentatively touching her waist, awaiting further permission.

She is Nesta Archeron, made of Sambuca and starlight, so she grinds back onto the stranger, the tall stranger she amends as his body presses against her back.

Then he is voice, rich and smooth, as his lips touch her ear lobe, his clipped accent conjuring schooldays at Eton and summers on yachts.

'You're very beautiful.'

The words hit her like sleet in summer.

How...boring.

She is unimpressed and turns to tell him as such.

She is shocked when finally he is no longer solely hands nor voice but Rhysand Velaris in all his tangible glory.

'You!'

She shouts, struggling to be heard over the pounding music, attempting to create a cavern between them even as the crowd presses in from all sides.

'Me.'

His cocky smile turns into a grimace as he reads the disappointment in her expression.

She does not stay long enough to introduce herself.

Sobriety looms too close for that.

She disappears in the grinding groping bodies until his voice melds with the rising melody.

***

He finds her at the bar.

Of course he does. His ghost has been haunting her for the better part of a year why wouldn't his corporeal form do the same.

'Rhysand Velaris.'

His hand, previously branding its heat on the soft wide curve of her waist, is now outstretched and open.

She extends hers, grasping firmly.

'Nesta Archeron.'

Her smile is a tight thin mimicry of what it should be.

His strong brow raises and his eyes widen.

'You're Nesta Archeron, the new PhD?'

She dips her head ignoring the question, too focused now on arranging her cleavage to attract the bartender.

Rhysand's eyes stay fixed to her face, as she successfully obtains her Tequila shots.

'I've been looking forward to meeting my new lab buddy who has booked every afternoon slot in the wet lab for the next month.'

She feels a grin tug at her lips at his pointed tone.

'You snooze you lose, Velaris.'

And in an impulse she wished she could blame on the undrunk shots before her she snipes,

'If it's a problem get Daddy to build us a new lab.'

His laugh is unexpected and far too enchanting for a handsome face. Because he is handsome, Mother damn him.

'Would you like me then? Because I'm very motivated for you to like me Nesta Archeron.'

He caresses the syllables of her name, his teeth clicking on the t and lingering like he wants to hold the letters a beat too long.

'Why? Because I'm beautiful.'

She scoffs.

His posture stiffens.

'No. Because you're brilliant. From what I've read, from what I've heard.'

A pause.

'Of course, you being beautiful is a welcome addition. Not as beautiful as me though.'

A giggle escapes her because he is ridiculous. This is ridiculous. He isn't allowed to be charming, not when she has decided to hate him.

***

'Let's do shots.'

She gestures clumsily to the glasses almost knocking them in the process.

And because she's lost her mind, for that must be the only reason, she grasps his inner forearm licking the tanned skin, letting her tongue drag lightly along, following a vein towards his elbow, ignoring the electricity that sparks through her body as she does.

He is tense, eyes pools of darkness she could drown in, the leather and chocolate of his cologne muddling her brain.

She salts his arm pushing the slice of lime his way. He obediently inserts it into his mouth, moving like a man dazed, eyes transfixed on her lips.

Like a film reel she sees the next three years play in her head if she carries on with this insanity, awkwardness and avoidance abound.

So why is she compelled to continue this mistake?

***

You'll regret this.

Her brain screams as the Tequila slides a burning fire down her throat.

You'll regret this.

It pleads as she kisses the white crystals from soft skin of his arm, nipping slightly so he moans her name in a way she definitely cannot linger on.

You'll regret this.

It begs as their lips meet in a citrus clash that sets fireworks off behind her eyes. He breaks momentarily to spit out the wedge of lime before returning to capture her lips, kissing her like lonely women dream of, hot and expert and claiming.

***

When she opens her eyes to meet a panting Rhysand, those hands still clutching her like she might mean salvation from an unknown damnation, dark hair tousled from her fingers grasping and tugging mere seconds before.

When he touches his ribs before looking in awe at her, like she is more than her frame can contain.

When he says her name like a prayer, like a curse, and she feels the golden links tying them together in a way science can only vaguely explain, she finds their damnation.

And she knows.

She'll regret this.

#rhysta #nesta #rhysand #college au #acotar #gemwrites #so glad im not in the labs anymore

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topguncortez · 1 year

Text

Bad Medicine | Chapter 5

previous part | Masterlist | Next Part

synopsis: A wealthy Italian mobster sets up his daughter to marry the head of one of the last remaining mafias in California. The union was supposed to create and heal the damage between two families, but all it does is cause more harm than good.MAJOR SLOW BURN (ENEMIES TO LOVERS)

word count: 4.8k

WARNINGS: drugs, guns, stripping, violence, abuse, fighting, prostitution, blood, alcohol usage, mentions of sexual assault, torture, death, cops, stalking, description of gruesome injuries.

Dante Soto was a fearless leader. The gang he ran was ruthless, a bunch of outlaws. Dante ruled his land with an iron fist, and wasn’t one to let things slip up and get messy. That’s what Jake admired about him. Dante was the one who offered Jake a partnership, promising to expand the Seresin gun business. Except, he was never true on his word. Jake had tried countless times to get in touch with Dante, and have a civilized meeting, but finally was fed up with the Outlaw’s antics. Jake had ordered the destruction of several of the Soto stock houses, destroying drugs, and guns. Jake knew the relation that would fall on his back, but he never expected Dante to drop dead bodies, literally, on his doorstep.

“Dante is smart,” Bob said, walking into Jake’s office, a folder in his hand, “But I’m smarter,” He smirked, “He’s been hiding at his side chick’s house, she lives down in Encinitas. Mickey says he’s a hot commodity with ATF.”

“We can’t all be super geniuses like you, Bobby,” Jake said, taking the folder from his friend. His green eyes scanned the surveillance photos that Bob had pulled, along with documents and records of where Dante had been, “Put a sight on him?”

“Of course, I told Rooster we’d talk about it when they get back. They should be back soon,” Bob reported, “Javy said she found a dress.”

“Lovely.” Jake deadpanned, not looking up from the folder. Bob rolled his eyes and Jake looked up at him slowly, “I’m good, you can go.”

Bob sighed, “Try to be nice to her. She’s been through a lot.”

“Just because she’s fucking damaged goods doesn’t mean I have to treat her with respect.” Jake spat, “I just want the guns to expand, and the fucking money. I could care less about marrying the Don of Italy’s fucking daughter. Thanks for the info Robert, you’re free to go.”

Bob didn’t say anything as he walked out of the office, his head hung low. His relationship with Jake had become strained in the past couple years. He was a lot closer to Rooster out of all of them, confiding in his best friend during fights with the man he once considered a brother. Javy and Jake always pushed Bob the hardest, trying to make him tougher. Bob hated it. He hated every aspect of the life that was forced upon him. Sure the clubs, the drugs, the money and the women were a bonus. But having to take another person’s life had kept him up at night. Bob could remember the first time he had to kill someone, the imagery forever ingrained in his mind, playing over and over like a broken record every time he closed his eyes.

Jake placed the folder on his desk, looking over the pictures, making notes on them. He scanned closely, looking at the cars, the street signs, the house markers, anything that would give away what Dante had been up to. He sighed, pushing the folder away and leaning back in his chair. He rubbed his chin as his eyes fell to the locked bottom drawer of his desk. He leaned forward, hitting a button under his desk to open the drawer. His hand pulled out the manila envelope, opening it, and pulling out the images hidden inside.

“Sick fuck. . .” Jake whispered to himself, taking in the gruesome images of his future wife and his deceased mother-in-law.

Jake only knew the information that everyone else in the mafia world knew about Francisco Solano. He was the oldest boy in his family, inheriting his father’s fortune and failing empire. Francisco’s father had set it up for him to work for Rafael Santiago, and that’s how he met Y/N. When she moved to New York, he came with, telling her that he was working at one of his father’s businesses in the city. She liked having someone from home around to hang out with. Their relationship went from platonic to romantic quickly. Every picture that graced the front page of tabloids showed two loved up people.

Everything between them was picture perfect, until it wasn’t. No one really knew the horror of what happened that night between Francisco and Y/N, but the images staring back at Jake were enough to give him an insight.

Her clothes had been torn, hardly covering her body. Every inch of tan skin was covered in blood and bruises. Stab wounds littered her body, varying in sizes. His eyes scanned the picture of her ribs, some clearly broken, and the bright red burned letters in her skin. Jake felt sick seeing the pictures of her broken jaw and eye socket. The written description of her injuries was even worse. Jake couldn’t even finish reading the doctor's notes when he slammed the folder shut, throwing it on his desk. He ran his hands over his face, he felt like he needed therapy just reading and looking at everything.

“Knock, knock,” A sultry voice sounded out, as the door to his office opened.

“God, why do you hate me,” Jake whispered, his eyes looking up at the ceiling. He looked over at the entry, as Isabella walked in. The dress she wore left little to the imagination, showing off her legs. The deep V cut showed off almost too much cleavage as she moved over to the desk, standing in front of it.

“Where have you been, daddy? I miss you,” Isabella said in a silky sweet voice that usually turned Jake on, but right now it made him want to vomit.

“I didn’t miss you,” Jake responded.

“Don’t be like that,” Isabella purred, moving over to him, “Let me make you feel better. Bobby said you looked stressed.”

“Don’t call him that.” Jake said back to her, and put his hand on her throat. She smirked at him, biting her lip and rubbing her thighs together. Jake could hear the slam of a car door and he smirked, “Go wait upstairs. Main bedroom, I’ll be there soon.”

“Any other requests?”

“Naked. On all fours, ass up.”

Isabella nodded and Jake let her go. She quickly ran out the door, disappearing into the main bedroom as the front door opened. Rooster held the black and white dress bag, as Javy led them through the door. Reuben and Y/N were in a discussion about what type of flowers she should order. Bob walked into the foyer, greeting them with some file in his hand.

“Hey! How was it? When do we get to see the dress?” Bob asked, walking up to give Y/N a hug.

“On the wedding day,” Y/N answered, hugging him briefly.

“That’s not fair. They all gotta see it!”

“Should’ve come with,” Rooster shrugged and Bob squinted his eyes at him. Y/N shook her head at their interaction and placed a hand on Rooster’s shoulder.

“I’ll go run this up to my room. What else do I have to do today?” Y/N asked them.

“I think we were going to start talking about some of the clubs. We’ve got a club on Broadway that could use some serious female touch.” Bob said, “We’ll send someone up to come get you.”

Y/N nodded, taking the dress bag from Rooster and heading up. When she got to the hallway, she noticed the door to her room slightly open. She slowly and cautiously walked down to the door, and peered inside. Her face turned red at the sight of a naked girl waiting on her bed, probably waiting for her future husband to arrive. Y/N pushed the door open more, letting it bang against the wall as it did.

“You’re- Who the hell are you?” The girl spoke up, looking over her shoulder.

“Y/N Santiago. Who the hell are you?”

“None of your concern. The other rooms are on the third floor. This one is being used.” The girl smirked at her. Y/N scoffed and threw the dress bag down on the floor, before turning on her heel and storming down to Jake’s office. She knew better than to just barge into people’s offices, but the anger in her body had her going to blind to the rules that were ingrained in her body.

“I just want the bare minimum done to the club-”

“Why is there some whore on my bed!?” Y/N yelled as she interrupted whatever conversation Jake and Bob were in. Jake’s face contorted in anger at the outburst as he pushed himself up from his chair.

“Who the fuck do you think you are just barging into my office like that?” Jake demanded.

“Your future fucking wife. Now, explain the goddamn whore in my room!”

“Oh,” Jake smiled, “I see you’ve met Isabella.” Bob looked between the two angry people. The tension thick enough to be cut with a butter knife, “Robert, give her the rundown of the club. I got something to take care of.”

Jake walked out from behind his desk, shamelessly fixing himself as he walked over to Y/N. She hated to admit that he looked good in his all black get-up, his dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. Y/N could see a cross tattoo on his forearm. He grabbed her arm and lowered his head, his lips grazing over the shell of her ear. She felt goosebumps rise on her body from the heat of his breath fanning over her neck.

“Let’s get a couple things straight here, doll,” Jake whispered, “I can fuck who I want, where I want, and when I want. And you’re not my future wife. You’re just some whore I got in a deal.” Y/N looked up at him, anger in her eyes. Jake smirked and bit his lip, “I heard you used to dance. . . that might be the one thing you’ll be useful for.”

Jake placed a kiss on her cheek, and let her go, walking out the door and going upstairs to Isabella. Y/N stood frozen, looking down at the ground. She tried her best to not let Jake’s words affect her, but she couldn’t help it. She hated comparing the two of them, but in this moment she would take a day with Francisco over this interaction with Jake.

“Y/N. . . “ Bob said softly, noticing the silent tears falling down her face.

“No,” She responded, wiping her tears, “Show me these club plans.”

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

Bob had left a while ago to talk with the rest of the guys about solidifying the overseas gun trades. Y/N hadn’t really paying much attention when he told her, and she hadn’t realized how much time had passed until he walked back into the office. She looked up at the sound of the door opening, watching as Bob walked into the office. Her eyes fell back to the laptop she had been staring at, holding her fingers over the keyboard, unmoving.

“I think it’s time for bed Y/n, you’re falling asleep looking at-” He moved around the desk looking over her shoulder to see what she was staring at, “-upholstery?”

“I’m fine, Bob,” Y/N said, trying to shake him off. She didn’t know where she was going to sleep anyway. She was guessing that Jake had done his business with Isabella in her bedroom, and she didn’t dare to go in there.

“Don’t stay up all night,” Bob said and Y/N nodded, whispering good night under her breath.

Her eyes were straining as she watched the screen, not really paying attention to the different colors of leather that were being displayed. She was fighting off sleep, feeling her body getting heavier and heavier. She sighed, closing her laptop, and pushing away from the desk.

The house was quiet and dark except for the soft lighting from the hallway lights. She didn’t even bother going upstairs to her room, instead she walked to the couch, pulling out a blanket from the chest. Y/N let out a sigh as she laid down on the couch and covered herself up. She rolled her eyes as she looked at the giant portrait of her future husband hanging above the fireplace. If she didn’t know any better, she would think he was a narcissist with the amount of pictures of himself he had everywhere. Y/N turned on her side, looking out over the pool and seeing the distant lights of the city, slowly drifting to sleep.

Jake woke up to the sound of what he assumed was the office door closing. His eyebrows furrowed as he looked over at the clock sitting on his bedside table. He assumed it was probably Bob finally going to bed. Jake sighed as he tried to fall back asleep, staring at the ceiling for a few moments, before giving up and sliding out from under the covers. His eyes were barely open as he walked down the stairs and towards the kitchen, but the slightest movement caught his eye.

His lips twitched into a slight frown at the sight of Y/N trying to be comfortable on the couch. He knew that the couch was the most uncomfortable thing in the world. Quietly, he moved over to the couch and picked her up in his arms. She stirred in his arms a bit, curling her body towards the warmth of his. The walk back to his bedroom was quiet, the only sound his ears registered was that of her steady breathing. He gently pushed his bedroom door open and ambled to the side of his bed. Jake gently laid her down in the spot he was once in, and pulled the covers up her body.

He couldn’t help the warm feeling that filled his body as he watched her nuzzle herself into the warmth of his pillow. The slightest of sighs left tumbled from her lips as she breathed in the scent of his sheets. Jake caressed her hair lightly, before placing a kiss on her forehead.

Jake left the room as quietly as he could, walking to the floor below and opening the door to the master bedroom. He was barely conscious as he walked to the edge of the bed, pulling back the covers just enough to slide beneath them before letting his exhaustion take hold of him.

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

“You awake Y/N? Breakfast is almost ready, and we’ve got shit to do today.” Bob knocked softly on the bedroom door. His soft tone was telling, where he was usually fairly monotone when speaking about business, Bob’s tone changed depending on who he was talking to. When he spoke to Jake it was usually firm, and strong, not a hint of fear in his voice. But, with Y/N, he was soft, calm.

Jake groaned as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he had slept in the main bedroom, it was probably before Natasha’s ordeal. He pulled the blankets back and trudged over to the door. Bob jumped back a bit as the door swung open and Jake was on the other side. He leaned in slightly, seeing if he could see Y/N’s body on the other side.

“Why-“ Bob began to ask, quickly being cut off when Jake moved past him, walking towards the stairs.

“She fell asleep on the couch because she didn’t want to sleep in that room.”

“Okay, and?” Bob said, following Jake.

“I took her to my room, figured I’d just sleep in the master bedroom.” Jake said with a shrug as they made it to the top of the staircase.

“Go eat, I’ll be there in a few minutes.” Jake said, waving off his friend before turning on his heel and walking to his bedroom. He slowly opened the door, peering in to see the curtains still shut, the darkness remaining in contrast with the light that had overtaken the rest of the house.

Y/N was still asleep, curled up further into his bedsheets with her head almost entirely beneath the blankets. He hated that he felt a flutter of feeling in his heart at the sight of her sleeping frame. She looked peaceful as she slept, but the angry red scar on her face stuck out. Jake sighed as he brushed a hand over her face, his knuckles lightly touching the scar. Every scar had a story and her’s was certainly one that no one would ever want to know. He moved quietly towards his closet, pulling a pair of dress pants on and pulling a button up shirt over his arms and walking back out.

The other boys noted Jake’s entrance to the dining room, Rooster giving him a curt nod before moving his attention back to the food on his plate. One of the maids handed Jake his iPad so he could check the morning sales, and Emile set down a single cup of black coffee in front of him.

“Should I wake Y/N? We’ve got shit to do today.” Rooster asked.

“It’s fine, let her sleep. You can show me what she came up with after breakfast.”

The four of them ate, small talk cutting up the silence. Once they were all finished, they stood from the table, heading for the door. Jake stopped and waited for the guys to get a few steps out of the room before turning to Emile, “Could you have a plate sent up to my room?”

“Miss Y/N coming down for breakfast?” Emile asked him softly.

“No, she had a long day. I think the jetlag and all is catching up to her,” Jake said and Emile nodded.

“You’re taking good care of her?”

“I try,” Jake sighed, “She’s a pain in the ass.”

“So are you,” Emile laughed, “Karma for your teenage years.”

Jake smiled at the older woman. Emile was hired when Jake was first born by his parents. At times, she felt more like their mother than their own mother was. Emile had seen the good, bad and the ugly of working for a crime family. She had also picked Jake up off the ground when he had fallen. She saw the good in his soul, no matter what he did. Emile was the soul who was too kind for the world she was involved in.

“I wasn’t that bad. You have to admit, Sam was worse,” Jake joked, mentioning his older sister. Emile smiled and kissed his cheek, before gathering a plate and taking it upstairs to Y/N.

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open, and she immediately sat up in the king sized bed. Her eyes scanned the unfamiliar room, looking around at the clothing that was haphazardly thrown around. She wasn’t sure how she got there, or even who’s bedroom it was, but she could guess by the red suit coat that was thrown over a chair, the room belonged to Jake. She pushed back the blankets, noticing the plain black t-shirt she was wearing and looked around for her own clothing.

“Miss Y/N? Are you awake?” Emile’s voice sounded out from the otherside of the door.

“Y-yeah, come in,” Y/N answered. Emile opened the door, her smile lighting up the room, a tray of food in her hands, “Oh, you didn’t have to bring anything-”

“Mr. Jacob asked me to,” Emile said, setting the tray in front of her, “Mind if I tidy up a bit? I love the boy, but cleanliness is not his first name.”

“Neither is respect,” Y/N mumbled as she picked up a piece of toast, “Go ahead.”

Emile nodded, and walked over to the windows, pulling back the heavy black curtains to allow the sun to shine through. Y/N blinked at the bright light, as she picked around her plate of food. She sat in bed, scrolling on her phone as Emile cleaned up the room. Once she was done, she gave Y/N a small nod, taking the finished tray of food with her. Y/N pushed herself out of bed, and into the bathroom to shower. She stepped into the hot water and let it hit her muscles, leaving red marks behind.

Jake whistled as he walked up to his room, and paused, hearing the water running. He walked in, noticing the clean room, and a single black t-shirt laying on the floor. He walked into the bathroom, and smirked, seeing her naked from behind the steamed up glass door. He could faintly see white scars on her back and he added just another reason as to why Francisco Solano needs to die. Jake leaned against the bathroom door and crossed his arms over his chest. Y/N could feel his eyes on her without having to turn around and look at him.

“Who said you can shower in here?” Jake asked. Y/N could practically hear his smirk. She rolled her eyes, and turned so he could see her naked frontside.

“Myself,” Y/N responded, grabbing the washcloth and squeezing it, letting soap run down her breasts, “Got a problem there, sir?”

“Hurry up,” Jake clenched his jaw, trying to think of anything but how good her tits looked, “You gotta go to the club, handle some shit with Javy.”

Y/N nodded as Jake left her alone to finish her shower. He sat on his bed, scrolling aimlessly on his phone, for another ten minutes before Y/N came strolling out of his bathroom. His eyes glanced up for a second, and did a double take. Y/N shamelessly walked towards the door, as bare as the day she was born.

“Whoa, where the fuck are you going?” He asked, standing from his bed and grabbing the towel from the floor.

“To my room…” She said, glancing back at him, confused.

“Butt ass naked, I don’t think so. I don’t need everyone in this house seeing my soon to be wife naked.”

“Again.” She stated plainly.

“Again…” Jake repeated, drawing out the word as he tossed the towel over her shoulders. She grunted and wrapped it around her body.

“Since when was I soon to be wife? I thought I was just some whore you got in a deal.”

“Don’t get smug, you’re still a whore I got in a deal, you just so happen to also be my fiance.”

“How did I get so lucky?”

“Bite me, princess,” Jake smiled at her, before walking out of the room and leaving her alone.

— — — ♱♱♱ — — — ♱♱♱ — — —

The club was tucked into the busy street that was Broadway in San Diego. It wasn’t flashy, and didn’t stick out like others, and that’s what caught people's attention. During the day, it wasn’t anything spectacular, but a two story building, next to a dingy alleyway. Jake had stayed back at the house while Javy, Rooster and Reuben accompanied Y/N to see the place she’d be hopefully saving.

“Welcome,” Javy said, pushing open the backdoor. The stale scent of alcohol and blood hit her nose, “Yeah, I know, it kinda smells.”

“Kinda?” Reuben asked and Y/N giggled, “Why not just tear it down and start over?”

“That’s what she’s here for,” Javy shrugged pointing at Y/N.

At first the club wasn’t much, the first floor was a giant dance floor, two gold dance poles near the front by the dj stand, and a decent bar tucked in by the front. Y/N glanced over the selections of alcohol they had, most of it being fruit flavored seltzers and vodkas. She took note of how much glassware they had, and what their average stock of alcohol was behind the bar. She also took note of the furniture that was on the bottom level; the dingy looking leather couches that looked like they needed to burn in a biohazard fire.

“It’s not horrible. . . The couches gotta go,” Y/N said.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t touch those things with a ten foot pole,” Rooster added and walked over to the bar.

“Oh the boys are here!” The sounding of a shrill voice sent a chill down Y/N’s spine. She had recognized the voice from her interaction in her bedroom yesterday. Javy rolled his eyes as Isabella strolled through the abandoned club, “So nice to see you and the uh. . . her.”

“Isabella, play nice,” Javy said, “This is Y/N Santiago, Jake’s soon to be wife.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Isabella said, looking Y/N up and down. The girl felt like she was under a microscope and stepped closer to Reuben, for some kind of confidence and shelter, “Her? This is the Mafia queen he hasn’t shut up about?”

“I’m standing right here,” Y/N spoke up.

“I don’t care,” Isabella said, glancing at her and then back at Javy, “She know his cock was buried inside me yesterday?”

“And yet I’m still the one marrying him…” Y/N murmured.

“Okay, how about I go show you the private rooms in the back?” Rooster interjected, trying to steer the conversation away.

“Oh! Jake and I’s favorite!” Isabella added, taking a step forward.

“No, you stay here. Y/N and I will go check out the back,” Javy said, grabbing her and making her stand still in her spot.

Rooster placed his hand on the small of Y/N’s back, leading her to the back, where they had about ten private rooms at. Y/N glanced at them quickly, not daring to step foot in them. She knew what these rooms were used for, they looked similar to the private rooms back in New York.

“How often do these get cleaned?” Y/N scowled.

“You really don’t wanna know…” Rooster said as they made their way down the long hallway. “These four on the end get cleaned most often… they’re uh…”

“The Seresin posse’s own private rooms?” She asked, opening the door to one of the last ones and peaking in, “Let me guess, this belongs to my future husband?”

“Did the giant picture of himself give it away or. . .” Rooster said, pointing to the large portrait of Jake above the bed, “He’s kind of cocky about placing pictures of himself everywhere. I’m not sure why either, I heard his dick is small.”

“Clearly,” She scoffed, “Anyone who has the nickname ‘Hangman’ must be lying about something,” before turning to Bradley with a smirk on her face, “What about you, hm? Rooster. . . must mean something, right?” Y/N tilted her head a bit, looking the mustached man up and down. Rooster licked his lips, plastering a cocky smirk on his face.

“Mama, I would break you,” He said, nearly growling as his voice dropped into a lower octave.

“Is that a threat or a promise?” Y/N asked, taking a long step towards him. Rooster gently lifted her chin with his knuckle, making her look up at him. He was a bit taller than Jake was, and Y/N could tell that he was a bit thicker than him. Y/N watched as Rooster leaned in closer, and closed her eyes. Her senses were overrun by the scent of his Armani cologne, and the feeling of his hand on her cheek. His lips brushed against hers for a split second, before he pulled back.

“A hypothetical, sweetheart,” Rooster said and Y/N nearly whined at the loss of his touch, “I’m not risking my life to fuck you, as much as I’d like to. Now come on, there’s a whole second floor to look at.”

Y/N sighed, and stepped out of the room, shutting the door behind her, but not before secretly flipping off the portrait. The two of them walked back down the hallway, back to the main part of the club, and she froze. Reuben’s eyes were looking at her, as Isabella was basically pressing her breasts in his face. Javy looked less than amused at the whole situation. Rooster looked between the two men and the girl who was practically fuming in her spot.

“Don’t-”

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Y/N yelled and stormed over to them.

“What?” Isabella said innocently, “You get one, sweetheart, not all of them. Besides, I like them a little bit beefier.” She giggled as she ran her hand up Payback’s bicep.

“Quit fucking touching him,” Y/N snatched Isabella’s wrist, holding it in a tight grip.

“Ow, fuck, daddy teach you how to do that one?” Isabella asked.

“Daddy taught me nothing, but I’ve done a whole lot more for so much less.”

Isabella huffed and tried to pull her wrist away, but Y/N tightened her grip, “You’re just another hang around whore for him. He’ll dump you sooner or later, doll.”

“Oh I fucking wish, but sadly, I’m not going anywhere, sweetheart,” Y/N spat, “Stay the fuck away from them.”

She let go of Isabella's wrist, and the girl immediately brought it to her other hand, rubbing the red mark left by Y/N’s grip.

“That wasn’t a request, get the fuck out.” Y/N said, nodding towards the door.

@cherrycola27 @seresinsbabe @violyn20 @materialgirl01 @bradleybeachbabe @a-reader-and-a-writer @lt-spork @topnerd03 @3in1shampooconditionerbodywash @bioodforbiood @topguncultleader @ma-fraise @abaker74 @double-j @cm27078 @thedroneranger @khaylin27 @mak-32 @unhinged-btch @wittywhispers @theliterarybeldam @bloosomjoon @chxcxlate-cxxkies @luckyladycreator2 @wellshit6 @harper1666 @phoenix1388 @footprintsinthesxnd @dempy @emma8895eb @bonitanightmxres @love2write2626 @bobbyonboard @some-lovely-day @thenewdaysalreadyhere @cassiemitchellslibrary @ilymoonie @morgensternsblog @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @rintheemolion @tallrock35 @adoringsebstan @xoxabs88xox

TAG LIST IS FULL DO NOT ASK TO BE TAGGED

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raposarealm · 1 year

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Today is release day for the Mega Man Battle Network Legacy Collection!

WE MADE IT, FOLKS!!

Yes, I know we're celebrating the game's re-release, but I took a character from the anime for this event -- specifically, Oozono Yuriko, shown here in Cross Fusion. This piece is based on the final fight in episode 19 in Stream, taking place on the hospital roof. I... didn't know whether I could show other characters in the shot, so it's probably not as apparent, but for context, her opponent here not pictured was Bombman. Honestly, the whole scene is a lot shorter and less relevant than I thought (there's another unrelated fight in the same episode that kinda overshadows this one,) but it stuck in my memory regardless. [Insert a joke about my regular medical field-related rambles here.]

Yuriko isn't my favorite character, but she is still one I'm fond of, and one I feel gets picked on a little too much sometimes. Like a number of the anime cast, she kinda got the short end of the stick in terms of... everything, so I guess I'm doing my part to try to make up for that. Somehow.

This piece is super late, due to a number of issues; most notably, this month I've had problems both with chronic pain and mental health, and it's kinda hard to draw when you feel like you've been hit by a bus. The other issue was the good five or so drafts I had before landing on this particular composition, and the sheer amount of digital art and editing skills I had to learn very quickly. The sketch was drawn digitally here, but everything from the refined underdrawing to the coloring were done traditionally, with multiliners and alcohol markers. It's by far my largest piece in a couple years at least, possibly overall. (Yeah, I know it looks kinda simple, but inking buildings and other structures with a normal ruler is harder than it looks, I've learned.) There's a few errors here and there due to both exhaustion and expedience, but I think it's acceptable enough.

Here's to a new breath for the series, and here's to all the folks who've worked so hard on this collaboration!

Plug in, transmission!

#MMBNLCCountdown #Rockman Exe #Megaman Battle Network #yup it's going in the english tag #Oozono Yuriko #Cross Fusion Needleman #Cross Fusion #rapo draws #tags in reverse order this time #anyways here's to me being able to finally play games 2-6 #and here's to me getting stuck at airman's labyrinth(dungeon? stage?) again #locked and loaded let's rock and roll!#IT'S NOT EVEN 5AM AND THERE'S ALREADY OTHER POSTS FOR THIS UP TOO #bruh i was expecting posts at like 10am or something not before sunrise #speed posting i guess

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because-she-goes · 1 year

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studio day

warnings: think only some swearing, other than that just some fluff! Enjoy!

A soft breeze rips through the studio. Birds chirp melodically from the woods outside of the secluded London home. Nora loved days like these, she never pictured it for herself being from New York and all, but here she is. Hair up in a messy bun, jean shorts allowing her legs to feel the warm air and smock over her chest. A brush sticks out from behind her ear as she tries to find her phone among the messy pile of paints, brushes, charcoals, pencils and markers. She finally finds it and puts on her home playlist. The one that makes her feel most relaxed and helps her whenever she is homesick. “Reelin’ In the Years” by Steely Dan blares over the professional grade overhead speakers Matty insisted on putting in every room, finally getting her to agree by using the “I’m a musician, I can’t stand shitty speakers. I know what’s good quality, honey” card. Nevertheless, she was thankful for the 360 sound system as she felt herself drift back to her beloved big apple. Swaying lightly with the music as she splattered some paint on a cavas to create the effect of rain drops against a window, she begins to lose herself.

“Have ya had enough of mine!!” she sings loudly, feeling comfortable in her skin. Now having the guitar surround her, she quite embarrassingly begins to air-guitar the end of the song.

The next song launches and it’s her new favorite. “One more tear to cry” by Mac Demarco. She makes a mental note to show it Matty later, he might like it. Now grabbing another brush, she continues her masterpiece. Today, she is going for a Willem De Koonig vibe. Her favorite artist in New York from the 60s. She remembers seeing a piece of his work in the Guggenheim one time and being absolutely floored by his use of color and abstract linework.

“Here come the lonely nights…” She sings the end of the chorus, now dancing to the guitar solos. God, she misses New York. “Back in Massachusetts, walking by the old high school. Its just the way I left it, except this time it’s not with you.” She sings sadly, mirroring DeMarco’s tone.

She especially loves Koonig’s works of women, making it a life goal of hers to hopefully have one in her possession that she could stare at and study all day. She could only hope to be as good as him one day. Maybe even one day having a gallery or exhibition of her own. She sighs, getting lost in the dream and in the music.

Song switches again. “Resonance” by Home plays over the speaker, she remembers being in college when this came out and everyone going insane over it at parties. The song was practically the soundtrack to her summer that year. Well, that and an album that was released the year prior. She never in her wildest dreams thought she would end up marrying the man who wrote the lyrics from that album. How was this all real? She laughs, now stepping back from her work and admiring it. Seeing where it has empty spots and deciding to leave them as is. Less is more, right?

Song switches once more. “Deceptacon” by Le Tigre. Her favorite hometown band. She fucking loves Kathleen Hanna and Bikini Kill. Their energy embodying female punk and Nora’s whole ethos for her work. That band basically picked her up as a kid and gave her the confidence and self-assurance to own her talent and be open about it. Why sugar coat or minimize her success? To be more palatable to men? Please! Now screaming, “Everything you think and everything you feel is alright, alright, alright, alright, alright!!” Fully dancing now, she is at her happiest. Not giving a shit about the painting now, she feels like a kid again. She feels 16 again. Before the drugs, before the alcohol, before fucking Derek, before everything. She doesn’t notice the gravel crunching in the driveway, doesn’t notice the main door opening, doesn’t even notice the stairs creaking as someone walks up them.

Song now on “Kilby Girl” by the Backseat Lovers. Matty would definitely love this song, or at-least the guitar of it. “I overheard that she was nineteen, with a fake ID and a nose ring. Those kind of girls tend to know things, better than I do. And I’m dying to figure out what she’s hiding she’s playing it cool, but she’s lying better than I do!!” Letting the outro sweep her away, she dances and dances until her feet hurt. Her skin screaming in joy. Every inch of her body feeling electric.

Matty watches his girl from the doorway, grin a mile wide. He rarely gets to see her like this, so free and so her. Normally, while listening to music she’s more bashful leaving the singing to the professional. He can’t believe how much he loves her in this moment. It is like his heart has come out of his body and manifested itself in her. He couldn’t ask for more in life than to see her happy. He couldn’t ask for more in life than to come home to her.

Her bun now practically undone from all the dancing, skin glistening with a sheen of sweat, eyes sparkling in the natural light. He then notices the painting, recognizing it as being influenced by the Koenig- no Koonig guy she mentions from time to time when talking about art. He loves when she talks about her art, he has no idea about it so to hear it from her - someone so knowledgeable - is like listening to a textbook in his favorite person’s voice. It also helps him relax whenever she talks about it, since it has nothing to do with the band or label or Jamie or emails about their tour, he can just unplug from all of that and hear his honey speak about her passions. She said a couple times early on that her ex hated when she talked art, so Matty swore to himself that he would never do that to her. Never disrespect her like that, never put down what she got so much happiness from, never minimize her. He loved her, in every facet and aspect of her life. All of those pieces of her making her more beautiful and interesting to him, the more he learned about her the more he loved.

Matty only realizing now that the song switched and she is still dancing infront of him - how is she not tired out yet? “The Less I Know The Better” by Tame Impala plays above him. He refocusses his eyes to her. She still hasn’t noticed him but, is resuming her artwork while singing sweetly.

“Oh my love, can't you see yourself by my side, No surprise when you're on his shoulder like every night. Oh my love, can't you see that you're on my mind, don't suppose we could convince your lover to change his mind. So goodbye” She continues. Matty now deciding to reveal himself.

He swift grabs her and wraps his arms around her waist, swinging her around the room as he now sings “She said, It's not now or never wait ten years, we'll be together. I said, Better late than never just don't make me wait forever. Don't make me wait forever” He hears her giggle, the greatest sound in the world. Domestic bliss at it’s finest.

“Matty!! What are you doing home so early? How long have you been standing there ya creep?” She jokingly asks him between giggles.

“Been home since Kilby Girl, honey. Heard your sweet voice from the door, had to run up here to see what you were up to on the lovely afternoon.” He answered, looking down at her now. He sets her in front of him and grabs her face between his hands, kissing her cheeks over and over. Trying to express his joy and love as best as he can.

“L.E.S Artistes” by Santigold plays as they talk. His favorite song she’s showed him.

“Oh god, that means you saw me dancing like an idiot oh god!!” She shrieks, hiding her face in his shoulder. She feels his chest vibrate as he laughs at how cute she is. For the record, he loved her dancing no matter how bad at it she thought she was. He found it endearing and pure - untouched by any social pressure to tone it down or make it more ladylike. He loved that about her. Most girls he ran into molded themselves to fit him and what he found sexy or whatever, but not Nora. She is herself always, never muted or unsaturated. She is Nora in full living color, he could only hope to be the same one day through osmosis or something.

“I love your dancing, you know that Sweet. It’s adorable. And don’t even get me started on your singing voice…” he trails off thinking of how off pitch she sometimes is, but finding it cute instead of annoying like other people might.

“Well, thank you for that, Handsome. I love you. I’ll be down in a second to help make some lunch for us. What are ya feeling today?” She asks him curiously as she grabs a washcloth and cleans herself up a little from the wet paint brush swiping at her skin a few times while dancing.

“How about some burgers? Think its nice enough to grill today, love!” He answers excitedly. Finally being able to wear his “Kiss the Cook” apron he bought forever ago for the warm days.

“Sounds good, cutie! I’ll meet you down there.” She kisses him on his forehead and leaves to go wash up more in their bathroom. He runs to grab everything and spend the afternoon with his love.

Could life be any better? He doesn’t think so.

#drew’s writing :)#matty x nora #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #the 1975 #Spotify #an encounter

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flowerfishlikesbugs · 2 years

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Hornet goes to the store!! Trying out some different face styles lol :)

[ID: image is drawn on paper using pen and red alcohol marker and features hornet from hollow knight. the page is divided into 3 sections; 2 small ones at the top and 1 big at the bottom. in the first box, hornet is walking in a store, and is drawn from the chest up. to the right, there is a shelf, and a sign reading ‘SALE!!’, and underneath that there’s another sign labeled ‘cookies!!’. There are a few boxes of cookies on the shelf below the signs. in the second box, hornet is shown from the chest down with a shopping basket full of cookie boxes, and she is at the checkout of the store. the checkout counter has a cash register labeled ‘check out’ and the side of the checkout counter has an assortment of candy bars. it also reads ‘check out!!!’. beneath the boxes for those two images, there’s a circle which shows hornet eating the cookie with a heart beside her. underneath the two boxes and circle, after a small gap, there's a bigger image of hornet returning home. she is posed in a full body shot of her standing in the doorway, wearing shoes, and holding a plastic shopping bag which says ‘thank you’. there's a window to the right which pictures a moon and stars. there’s a cabinet with keys, a note, paper, and a pencil on top of it. the note is secured using tape to the door of the cabinet. beside the cabinet there are 2 bags; one labeled ‘PHARMACY’ and one labeled ‘grocery’. There’s also a can of soup. End ID]

#just a lil doodle #basically just hornet buying cookies! And then it’s night time and she’s at home.#sketch #not really art #i tried lol #i love hornet #i love halloween!#happy Canadian thanksgiving :)#have an awesome day!#ilysm <3 #cookie #cookies #hornet hollow knight #hollow knight #hornet hk #silksong hornet #silksong

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this-is-not-a-slow-burn · 3 months

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"I neeed to creaaaate". But first I must gather.

One of the biggest hurdles to creating things with my hands is the process of gathering supplies. It saps me of the motivation to actually do the thing the supplies are for.

The reasons behind this are probably ADHD and dopamine related, but that's for another post.

But yesterday I had a revelation.

looong post with images under the cut!

TL;DR Make baskets or boxes that have all the supplies you will need for a single type of project, so they can just be picked up and used.

So we all know that being organized can make things easier. But when the ADHD strikes, no amount of organizing can solve the issue completely.

Case in point. All of my art supplies are organized by type. All of the alcohol markers, felt tip markers, fine liners, colored pencils, regular pencils, brush tip pens, pastels, etc are mostly on one shelf (frequently used are in a desktop carousel), all of the paper is organized by type: card stock, (further organized by plain, textured, or patterned, and all are color sorted, etc) blank printer paper, origami paper, velum. Below that are the notebook/pad style art papers, watercolor, sketch, bristol, plus canvases, and sheets of watercolor paper. All adhesives are in one drawer. There is a "idk where the fuck this belongs" drawer with those odds and ends that are important but solo in their class. There are magzine holders full of journals and sketchbooks, reference books

blahblahblah

(those totes in the left cube are not transparent. the table reflection makes them look that way though)

Great! Yay! Hooray! You can find what you need pretty quickly!

Yes. But.

Art making and crafting isn't a mono medium. You see posts that say things like "all you need is a pencil and paper!" and sure yes, that's technically true. However my brain fills in with ....and an eraser, and you need a flat surface, and the paper has to be the right kind, the right size, what kind of sketch is this? what hardness of pencil do you need? Is there enough light in the room? Do you need references?

(yes I even torment myself with the "well akshully" stuff)

The art I make is rife with "parts", like painting (paints, palette, water, brushes, paper towels, surface to be painted on, apron) collage (base medium/substrate, image sources, adhesives for different types of paper, scissors, craft blade) sewing (fabric, shears, needles, thread, buttons, elastic, zippers, velcro, hook and eyes, snaps, ribbon, lace...) , etc.

(I do have most of the printmaking stuff in one container so that's a start...)

what's that saying about how a messy desk is the sign of a creative person?

The process of "shopping" my shelves for what is needed seems to derail any motivation. It feels like maybe my brain is happy with the idea of creating, and that's good enough. Like gathering the stuff is the goal, and having satisfied that, my brain dumps dopamine all over. Which is way less than ideal. (I am very guilty of the "I thought about doing it and am just as satisfied as if I had done it." thing. It's awful.)

SO. Then yesterday, while looking for something else, I came across a wire basket full of the supplies I had gathered to do a sewing project in bed, and I thought, that was so smart. how handy.

And I realized that I could do that with ALL of my supplies! Or at least, make up some project baskets with everything one would need to do that thing, all ready to go. So when an idea comes to mind I can just grab the basket and sit down for some art time, instead of chipping away at the urge one shelf at a time.

I sort of did this with a tackle box style of art tote, and a bunch of collage images, pens, and stickers, but it's not quite there.

(pictured: a halfassed unintentional attempt at this idea. plus a bunch of scraps that were pissing me off and got tossed in "rage")

It will be great for those times when the urge to make something comes up, but not a specific thing, just that "I neeed to creaaaate" blinking neon sign that can be so fleeting. Grab a basket and satisfy the need without distracting faffing about.

Obviously I'm not the first one to ever do this, and pre-school teachers are probably giggling at me for only just now thinking of this, but hey. We all learn at different speeds :p

(Oh, and I promise the fabric and desk will be at least a little bit less messy this weekend :3 )

#Beating the ADHD motivation sapper #Make craft project baskets!#Art #Art supplies #Motivation #Creative #Creativity #Create #Headspace for creating #ADHD #Paint #sewing #collage

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sunnydaleherald · 4 months

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The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Wednesday, January 3

WILLOW: I think dummies are cute. You don't? BUFFY: Uuuhhh. They give me the wig. Ever since I was little. WILLOW: What happened? BUFFY: I saw a dummy, It gave me the wig. There really wasn't a story there.

~~BtVS 1x09 “The Puppet Show”~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Rebel (Willow, Willow’s Mom, PG) by badly_knitted

No Boring Rules (Spike, Dawn, PG-13) by veronyxk84

Conversations with the Past (Xander, Assassin's Creed xover, T) by arcanedreamer

Clarity (Buffy/Spike, T) by cawthraven

getting all french with it (Giles/Jenny/Ethan, M) by The_Eclectic_Bookworm

Carrot and Stick (Angelus, William the Bloody, E) by vampbrat

It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (Spike/Drusilla, G) by EustasiaVye13

Blind love (Spike/reader, unrated) by way2geeky

Consequences of a Spring Fling (Giles/Jenny, K) by Bobbie23

[Chaptered Fiction]

Back to the Beginning, Chapter 1/? (Angel/Cordelia, G) by imaginationofadreamer

Under the Water, Chapter 16/30 (Willow/Oz, M) by dwinchester

Divide & Conquer, Chapter 58/60 (Buffy/Giles, E) by Removes_and_Cleans_Glasses_00

a demigods fate, part 3 (Giles/teen!reader, unrated) by specialagentlokitty

a demigods fate, part 4 (Giles/teen!reader, unrated) by specialagentlokitty

a demigods fate, part 5 (Giles/teen!reader, unrated) by specialagentlokitty

Please Don’t Leave Me, Chapter 4 (Buffy/Spike, M) by JM89

The Greatest Love of All, Chapter 1 (Buffy, ensemble, K+) by Aristocrat Writer

[French language] Les deux Phénix, Chapter 5 (Buffy/Faith, M) by Friday Queen

Surviving Together, Chapter 12 (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only) by ionlylikebadboys

Pack My Box with Five Dozen Liquor Jugs, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by honeygirl51885

A Waxy Gent Chuckled Over My Fab Jazzy Quips, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by violettathepiratequeen

Three Little Words, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only) by Maxineeden

Cherry On Top, Chapter 23 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by Maxineeden

Love Ridden, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by scratchmeout

There are No Epilogues When You Live Forever (Love from the Other Side of the Apocalypse), Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by Asokatanos

Truth Hurts, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Geliot99

Pack My Box with Five Dozen Liquor Jugs, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by honeygirl51885

A Waxy Gent Chuckled Over My Fab Jazzy Quips, Chapter 3 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by violettathepiratequeen

Love Ridden, Chapter 2 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17) by scratchmeout

Blood and Dust, Chapter 13 (Buffy/Spike, M) Complete! by Blackoberst

Stomping on butterflies, Chapters 1-2 (Buffy/Spike, T) by Blackoberst

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: buffy for the outfit meme (worksafe) by genericaces

Manip: GYEONGSEONG CREATURE (but spuffy-fied) (worksafe) by kaizsche

Manip: A gift for all Spuffy Shippers this holiday season! (worksafe) by pass-the-dyanmite

Artwork: Alcohol marker portrait of a photoshoot picture of Sarah Michelle Gellar (slightly spooky, worksafe) by m-mangan-art

Artwork: Some ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’ sketches (Ensemble, worksafe) by m-mangan-art

Comic art: Another sneak peek at my Buffyverse slams fist first into the Good Omens Gaimanverse comic (worksafe) by gleafer

Artwork: xanya! they feel like a matching clothes couple (worksafe) by genericaces

Artwork: 5x07 Fool for Love / 6x07 Once More With Feeling (Buffy/Spike, worksafe) by though-you-try

Comic art (3 panels): Who got Buffy in my Good Omens??! (worksafe) by gleafer

Toast, Chapters 1-6 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) Complete! by Dynamite

Spuffy Visions, Chapter 1 (Buffy/Spike, PG-13) by bewildered

A Real Good Day (Buffy/Spike, G) Complete! by though_you_try

Some Aspects Of Spuffy, Chapters 1-3 (Buffy/Spike, R) by Lmrln

[Reviews & Recaps]

PODCAST: HELLMOUTH HOMOS: Doppelgangland by Fear Queers

[Community Announcements]

Jan 2024 Prompt and Pairing by btvscrackships

Buffyverse Fandom: Otherworldly Chemistry Presents: Flash Fiction January and Febraury 2024 via fanwork-exchange-promos

[Fandom Discussions]

[Jenny Calendar deserved better meta; commentary in the tags] by snails-in-my-mouth

s6, aka “what if everyone just ignored each other because they all just need so much fucking therapy it’s unreal” [commentary in the tags] by twicedeath

I’m not an Angel hater by any means however I do think Spike should get to be as big of a dick to him as he wants to be [commentary in the tags] by horsegirlhob

Day 2: Favorite Supporting Character. Tara McLay by k0nstantly-tragic

I love the idea of wlw/mlm solidarity with Willow and Oz but I also absolutely love the idea of Willow being Bi and being poly with Oz and Tara. by swarm-of-bees67

[anon ask] Hi! Do you prefer Fred/Wesley, Fred/Gunn or both?! answered by keylimequeen

Detective Lockley: How would you bring her back into the fold by NyleveEiram

What character from another universe would you want to drop into the Buffyverse? by Babettesgnomes

How old is Ben? by Few_Improvement_6357

One of the saddest parts about the end of "Chosen"... (MAJOR SPOILERS INSIDE) by jdpm1991

Just finished Buffy for the first time and I’VE GOT QUESTIONS by clarry1888

Spike - The Doctor is in… not the evil doctor episode Rather Spike as the guy who tells it like it is by AlkahestGem

Is there a song that makes you think of Buffy that wasn’t on the show? by buffy_slays

Submit a link to be included in the newsletter!

Join the editor team :)

#btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #angel the series #ats #fan art #fan fiction #meta

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plvto-sqda · 1 year

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-⋆ What I think Gareth’s Backstory Was Like (Gare lore pt 1? 👀)

Ok, so I’ve seen a few people saying that his home life was pretty bad, especially when he was younger but tbh I can’t really see that in his life.

Ever since day one when I saw his character I always thought his home life was a bit tamer than the others, especially Eddie’s. (Don’t get me wrong though! I love myself a bit of angst and I find it very interesting to see that in Gareth’s life considering how he is such a warm, nice person and people wouldn’t expect him to have gone through those things. I also think it’s super cool how other people perceive him!)

🪐Warnings: Brief mention of alcohol and divorce, otherwise nothing

✭ Family

⭒ His parents were named Caitlin and Samuel Emerson. Samuel left after they had their youngest and honestly, it was for the best. He wasn’t totally abusive towards them, but he was self-centered, kind of a hypocrite, and started to get into alcohol, and it was a bit odd since he seemed like such a nice and caring person at first. They ended up arguing over literally everything, and it really didn’t look like he cared for her anymore. They soon divorced, but it didn’t hurt Gareth as much as he thought it would since his dad really wasn't a great person. Luckily it wasn’t too hard on Gareth’s sisters because they were very little at the time. They do wish that they had a father sometimes, but they are just used to not having one for pretty much their whole life so they don’t really care too much at the same time. Their mom means everything to them though. She’s super supportive and chill with whatever her children want to be and lets them embrace it. (unless they want to commit murder or arson or something then probably not)

⭒ Also, Caitlin knew Joyce (not really as a friend though, just more of an acquaintance) because they went to school together back in the day. They don’t talk that much now, but they’ll say hi to each other if they see each other in town and ask how life is going and stuff.

⭒ Gareth takes care of his little sisters a lot because his mom is at work for the majority of the day. He cleans and learned how to cook too so he's pretty independent. He also drives them to school, but there’s a cheer/dance class that they have after school and at that time Gareth goes to Hellfire and his mom is back from work so she picks them up afterwards.

⭒ When his youngest sister was born he cried while holding her and thought that she was beautiful and promised to always protect her, that he will always be there for her and take good care of her which made his mom emotional as well. She was so glad that he loved his sister because he was a bit upset at first that it wasn't a boy and that made her nervous that Gareth would still be a bit disappointed about it.

⭒ As I mentioned earlier his sisters do dance and cheer, but they also love to color and draw too. There’s a picture on the fridge that’s a drawing in markers that is a stick figure version of their family with the stereotypical sun in the corner thing and everything, it’s really cute.

⭒ Gareth’s a great brother to them. I mean he would do anything for them, but of course there have been moments where he’s teased them or chased them around with a dead bug he found or snake, made them cry, and got scolded by his mother.

⭒~Fun fact: Before Gareth was born his parents were deciding on the names Jesse, Blake, and Gareth. In the end Gareth won because they thought it was cooler and more fitting.

⭒~Another fun fact: not only did Caitlin know Joyce, but she heard of Eddie’s mom as well but never met her since she was from a different school.

⭒ (One more thing. I can totally see his younger sisters being named Macy and Claire... and I give credit to @spookyscarydemonbabe for naming them in their fics and stuff it's just too canon and my brain adopted that hc! :) )

#gareth emerson #gareth emerson fluff #hellfire club #gareth stranger things #corroded coffin #stranger things season 4 #gareth emerson headcanons #eddie munson

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beccasartspace · 1 year

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~ Intro ~

Hi there! I'm Becca - formerly FlightofIcarus! I'm in the process of making this my lil art space! I love illustration and character creation. The types of art I make/media I use include:

Traditional - Acrylic and watercolour painting, Alcohol Marker drawings, Oil pastels, Clay sculpting, Gouache

Digital Drawing/Illustrating - I've been digitally drawing for about a year now. It's been quite the journey to get used to a completely different form of creating. I mainly use ProCreate for my illustrations.

Character Creation - I absolutely LOVE creating OC's and Self-Inserts! I love creating unique characters with interesting personalities and backstories.

Storybook Illustration - I want to one day publish my own picture book. I also dream to become an Illustrator, illustrating the stories of others!

Mental Health Awareness - Many of my pieces have themes tying into various mental health issues (When I post pieces of this nature I'll make sure to put a lil content warning!) Dealing with all this fun stuff myself, I find creating pieces with these themes helps me cope and process how I'm feeling.

Another few things about me:

Music is a big part of my life - I enjoy listening to a variety of music genres including classic rock, alternative rock, indie, folk pop/rock, and soundtracks to musicals, anime, movies, etc.

Hyperfixations - my brain constantly rotates various hyperfixations including The Hobbit/Lord of the Rings, Demon Slayer, Naruto, Black Clover, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, My Hero Academia, Pokemon, Animal Crossing, Stardew Valley, etc..The list is seemingly endless.

I also really like mushrooms, frogs, and rabbits! ^ v ^

I also want to make this a safe space for everyone to feel welcomed!

But anyhoo, if you made it this far hi! hello! and thank you for reading!! I'm excited to start posting soon!

Also!! I'm on Instagram @/beccasartspace as well if you'd like to follow me elsewhere!

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soldat-buck · 2 months

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HELLO, just fyi I'm a little less into Bucky and a LOT more into Astarion now

idk if I'm going to change the name/theme of this blog, or post on main, or just leave everything as is and send confusing messages with every post on this blog. THE POSSIBILITIES ARE ENDLESS

also i've been through some REAL SHIT over the last two years. my mental health is absolutely not the same. i am not the same person any of you have known. I knew moving in with MIL to the shitass state of North Carolina would be difficult, we had the chance to escape right at the end, but like Orpheus, I looked back at Eurydice and now i have been trapped in Southern Passive Aggressive hell.

on the bright side, my mil is insane and makes herself suffer too. on the unbright side, no matter how small i make myself, she's getting worse (and more scared of me???? i do not understand). she's started up with "praying all night that you'll start going to church and never drink alcohol again" type bullshit

my car got totaled at the end of November and my dear brother bought me Baldur's Gate 3 as a get well soon present. I cannot fully express how much this game has saved me - this stupid obsession over a gd vampire elf is honestly one of the few reasons i wake up in the morning. playing the game and keeping the stabbing urges to virtual people, writing dumb little scenes because I can hear Astarion snark stupid shit or picture him dealing with some ridiculous scenario or another - sounds unhinged, but it's been keeping me going.

i'm not really allowed to exist in the house i'm alive in (saying i'm "living" here makes it sound like i have free, unadulterated access to things like "cooking utensils", "work/craft spaces", "a flushing toilet and running water", "using the tv for gaming instead of watching tv", "using any of living spaces to live, instead of empty space to look at", "my cats"). i'm not quite at the end of my rope yet, but gods DAMN, in a way i feel feral. done with this. done with the next person who wants to control and micromanage me. numb. i want to bite someone.

i had a biopsy the other week with zero pain management (no ibprophen or anything). i didn't flinch because i just didn't care about the pain. i'm so shut down from stress that hunger pains mean nothing to me. it's just a sensation that happens sometimes. being reached into and having pieces literally plucked out of my body? eh, that's a thing that happened. get into a car wreck with huge Crayola marker purple bruises? i walked away with little problem.

*deep inhale*

anyway, ALL THAT aside, i'm really into Astarion now

i think it's equal parts "crush" and "intense gender envy", tho it might be swinging a bit harder into the envy part.

#soldat buck says something #sorry for the ramble #clearly i have been unwell

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kat-ravencroft · 6 months

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Soo... I was trying to re-learn how to use pen and ink, and it was a (very minor) disaster. I spilled ink all over myself, and managed to splatter it all over the picture just as I had finished inking it. THEN I guess waiting 24 hours wasn't long enough for the ink to dry completely, or I overdid it in a few spots, and I got a lot of smearing when I went in with marker (this ink is supposed to work with alcohol markers, and it did for the most part, I think it was just user error).

Anyway, I guess it was good practice. Though I may take another try at this one, because I really do like the original sketch I did. And the water color paper I used was easy to work with and the lines didn't fuzz out. I'm just wayyyy out of practice. :)

#sketch #drawing #art #oc #sketch book #oc art #kat foxglove #pen and ink #marker drawing #marker art #redhead #red hair

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moonluringfrost · 9 months

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i'm gonna put a potion shop in potion tester that's based on the weirdest liquor store i've ever been in

picture this: You work in a pizza place on frat row. you pass a liquor store on your way to the bus stop every night. you have 45 minutes to kill before the bus will even consider showing up early. It's cold and foggy out, and the street light near the bus stop is broken. You decide to check out that liquor store. Maybe pick up something light to enjoy on your day off.

The store is lit blue-ish florescents, the buzz of which you can faintly hear under the music. It's Daft Punk's around the world.

The only other person in the store is the cashier, a hipster looking type with a beard and gauges. He's vaping up a storm. It smells like cotton candy. He nods to you as you walk past, but does not stop vaping.

You turn down an isle at random. Floor to ceiling hard liquor decks the shelves, all crammed in as tight as possible. More types than you've ever seen in your life, and you've got a father that likes niche and craft alcohol brands. For every 10 bottles on the shelf, there is one price marker. They are hand written in red sharpie. It is hard to find what liquor each price tag goes to, because the tags and the actual bottles are nowhere near each other.

You turn down another isle to find much of the same. Around the world continues to play. After a while of looking, the cashier ceases vaping to ask if you need any help. You tell him you're just looking around. he says okay and goes back to vaping.

You eventually find something with a price tag that seems reasonable, and is actually a drink that's to your tastes. It's Carmel Southern Comfort, which is a little harder than you were planning, but you figure it will taste good if you add a splash to the apple cider you have at home.

You go to the front to make your purchase. The cashier does card you, but doesn't hassle you about how you look 10 years too young to drink, as is typical when you buy alcohol.

You bid him a good night, and he resumes vaping. Around the world is still playing when you step back out into the dark of night.

You check your phone. A half hour has passed in what seemed like a few minutes. You make the walk up to the bus stop while wondering what alternate universe you just walked out of.

Later, you will try to look up some of the more interesting brands you saw on the shelf only to come up empty. They must have been /very/ niche.

#yes i did edit to add that last line because i just remembered #that i could not fucking find some of them anywhere on the internet #brands with 0 web presence #wild

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eremosjournal · 1 year

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How To Throw a Last Supper Party

by Elise Letrondo

Holy Thursday is a day of religious reflection on Jesus’ last day before death. It is also the day we remember perhaps the most iconic dinner party in history: The Last Supper. It had everything that I seek in a soiree: carbs, alcohol, and accusations of betrayal. Believe me, I still think Jesus was greatly wronged by his friends and local government. But if we care enough to reenact the Nativity scene each December, we should also take time to echo Jesus’ effort at celebration and togetherness before his execution. I think The Last Supper says a lot about the kind of person Jesus was: casual, generous, and down as hell. So I’ve designed a party to emulate The Last Supper so that everyone, Christian or otherwise, can party like they’re dying tomorrow.

FOOD

As a raving charcuterie enthusiast, I can’t picture a party without some kind of meat and cheese assortment. Luckily, the diet of Biblical times consisted largely of meat and dairy from various livestock, so charcuterie kind of tracks historically as well as deliciously. I assembled a board with some ingredients that are loosely reminiscent of Biblical times and Jesus’ relative geography. And since Holy Thursday is also a Catholic reverberation of Passover, I should add that this party is a great opportunity to find and support your local Jewish market. Just don’t go there hungry because you will find yourself in the checkout line with three loaves of fresh challah bread and nothing on your original shopping list. Everything else pictured is from Trader Joe’s. Obviously.

I used sheep and goat dairy for the cheeses, and included smoked fish and dried figs from the market. There are olives, dates, and hummus to round out the Middle Eastern vibe, though I’m realizing it is stupid to try to ethnify something as white as a Trader Joe’s charcuterie board. Blood oranges and endives add an elevated prettiness to distract you from the fact that you’re actually throwing a Holy Thursday party. Speaking of distraction, let’s move on to alcohol!

DRINK

“This is my blood of the covenant,” said Jesus, “which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins.”

Not to be that guy but I think if Jesus wanted to avoid sin, he shouldn’t have been passing around a cup of wine. I don’t drink much wine, as it causes me to turn red in the face and slide into the DMs of NBA players. If you’re like me and want a drink that packs the same punch as a robust merlot but tastes like a Capri Sun, I’ve crafted a signature cocktail for you to try this Holy Thursday. I call it “Blood of the Covenant”, and I think Jesus would have loved it.

4 oz cranberry juice cocktail (the sweet stuff, not the UTI stuff)

Juice of half a medium blood orange

1.5 oz vodka or gin

1 oz. Triple Sec

Club soda to finish

I am as bad a food photographer as I am a mixologist, especially after sampling the drink for an hour before remembering to take a picture of it. But a little raw sugar and blood orange slice made it look slightly more presentable! Still, plain old wine is just as good and on-theme, and much less work. And as an unemployed thirty-three-year-old, I think Jesus would have appreciated less work. Cheers, and please pour out for the forgiveness of sins responsibly.

GAMES

“Judas”

Gather enough cups for each guest at your party. The cups must be opaque, and should be disposable as you’ll be writing inside them. With a permanent marker, write “JC” (Jesus Christ) on the bottom of the inside of one of the cups, and “JI” (Judas Iscariot) on the inside bottom of another. Then fill the cups with the beverage of your choosing, preferably something dark enough to conceal the labels. Shuffle the cups around. Once everyone is gathered, cheers and drink to reveal whose cups were labeled or not.

I’ve made a playlist (linked in our Vol. 18 story highlight) that contains Lady Gaga’s goated bop “Judas” on it three times, along with some other more or less thematically related bangers. Play the playlist on shuffle during your party. Every time “Judas” comes on, everyone in attendance - twelve guests if you went for accuracy - must circle up and perform a “waterfall”, wherein each person starts drinking at the same time but cannot stop until the person before them stops drinking. Whoever’s cup was labeled “JC” is first in the waterfall and whoever’s was labeled “JI” is last. Refill the labeled cups once you finish and repeat whenever “Judas” comes back on.

LINK TO PLAYLIST: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5TVtlP6ExvGW5udMSvVQYp?si=4e5f9746b9bd42f6

“Paranoia”

Gather in a circle, drinks in hand. Each player takes a turn to whisper a question into the ear of the guest to their right. Please, make it personal and incriminating. Out loud, the guest must answer honestly, without anyone knowing what was asked. Whoever is dying to know what the question was, they must drink before it can be disclosed. I suppose this game is in Judas’ Last Supper spirit of divulging information. But also, isn’t it just fun to be nosy?

And there are the bones of a swingin’ Last Supper Party! I know the tone of Holy Week is meant to be somber and low, but if Jesus wasn’t too good for a weekday kickback then neither am I. You can look at it as a celebration of his strange, miraculous life, or at the very least an excuse to be with people you love. I’ve gone back and forth about how much of the Bible I believe and how much of it I should just take as allegorical. After all, it was written by people as flawed as I am, and translated by them too. Being a couple years removed from my old faith, I’m not sure what the gospel means to me anymore. But I still like the image of The Last Supper, a lot. And I like who I think Jesus would have been too. I may not have a faith anymore, but the prospect of gathering, of eating good food surrounded by people who make me laugh the loudest, sounds holy to me.

#deconstructed club #deconvert #deconversion #deconstruction #exvangelical #excatholic #ex christian #exchristian #ex catholic

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