#I feel that anatomy is not so good but I liked the final result.
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can't get you out of my head
member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am
the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.
the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.
it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to.
he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.
so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week.
like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.
the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.
one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.
your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.
you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.
your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.
you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.
if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—
before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.
he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.
the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.
so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long.
maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…
… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?
well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.
you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.
you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.
for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.
he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.
you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him.
he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.
but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.
he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.
but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves.
he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.
he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.
sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.
if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.
you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.
throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.
he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.
you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.
it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.
you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.
without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.
you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own.
the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.
he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.
you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.
this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.
he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.
"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.
it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.
it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too.
"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"
your breath catches a little. "yeah?"
"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."
and just like that, things make sense.
"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.
everything is so simple with hansol.
i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!
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Lovers Embrace
Halsin x afab!reader
A/N: I finally have an excuse to use the shirtless Halsin gif and I couldn’t be happier lmao. But yes - sex pollen/potion fic at your service 😏 hope y’all enjoy!
Word Count: 3.4k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY! Smut, sex pollen trope and all that comes with it, accidental consumption of aphrodisiac potion, reader has female anatomy, PiV sex, oral (female receiving), nudity, unprotected sex, fluff.
The only sound filling the tent is of the pestle grinding down into the mortar. It’s uncharacteristic for the camp to be so calm and devoid of sound, but most everyone else had agreed to Karlach’s idea of a jaunt into the city to spend the rest of the day at the Elfsong Tavern.
They had tried to get everyone to go, but Halsin chose to stay back and you followed suit - both because you won’t ever say no to some alone time with your partner, and because you had also wanted to stock up on some potions.
Which is where you are now - you’ve already got a good batch of lesser healing potions brewing and you’re currently working on a potion you found a recipe for, which just seems to be an amped up version of the greater healing potion while adding in a stamina aspect as well.
Halsin had left not long ago to look for a bit more of one of the ingredients, since you’re working with the last of what you have. Just as you finish preparing the ingredients, the first batch of the trial is done.
You look over the instructions one more time just to double-check that everything you’ve done was correct before taking the vial in hand, appraising your handy work.
Silently, you wish there was a better way to test potions rather than trying them outright, but if something were to go awry, you know Halsin isn’t far.
The potion is tinged red like the other healing potions, but held up to the candlelight, you can see that it’s slightly purple as well. Most likely from the stamina portion of the potion.
Slowly, you bring it towards you, carefully sniffing the concoction. When nothing seems off, you finally place the vial against your lips. The liquid is warm as it hits your lips and spreads over your tongue, and you automatically notice a difference in taste.
The other healing potions taste medicinal in nature, not at all pleasant. But this is…different. Sweeter. It’s more rich as well, coating your mouth and throat in a syrupy thickness as you consume it.
You pull the vial away from your lips and stare at the empty glass curiously before glancing down at your hands. You’d been sparring with Lae’zel earlier, resulting in bruised and split knuckles - the perfect way to test this new potion.
Except…they’re still there. Even after you wipe away the dried blood, the minor injuries are still present. Quickly, you set the vial off to the side and look back to your notes. Maybe the potion has a delay in effect, or takes longer than usual?
However, after reading over the notes several times, one particular phrase leaps off the page.
Effects are immediate.
So why isn’t it working?
You move to look over the ingredients once more, but stop as you reach for them. Your hands are shaking. Badly. And not only that - it feels as if the air in the tent has risen several degrees, a cold sweat breaking out along your skin.
Oh fuck.
Did you just poison yourself?
You move to stand but the world sways, mind foggy as a wave of…something rushes through you and settles low in your belly. Your knees almost buckle beneath you as something all too familiar clenches in your core.
“Halsin!” His name is falling from your lips before you can even stop it, not even wondering if he is in ear shot to hear you.
Panic is settling in now, fear of not knowing what you consumed or what it’s going to do to you. You stagger towards the tent’s entrance, pulling the flap back just as your partner does the same.
He stands before you, brows furrowed as he looks down at you. “I heard you call out as I came back into camp. Are you alright, my love?”
You shake your head, wanting to tell him no, you’re not alright, when your eyes land on the bundles of plants in his hand. Confusion fights its way to the front of your mind as you reach out to touch the plants.
“What is that?”
Halsin looks even more concerned now, “It is what you asked me to gather for the potion you are working on. Is it not?”
You shake your head, turning back to the desk to pick up the last stalk of belladonna you have before showing it to Halsin. “No, I needed belladonna, I-ah-“
Another wave of, what you now realize is pleasure courses through you, finally bringing you to your knees. But Halsin is quick. His hands catch you before you hit the ground as he gently lowers you both to your knees.
His concern is palpable now as he looks from you to the plant in your hand, and finally to the empty vial on the desk. His grip on you tightens.
“That is not belladonna,” he informs you, pulling away to show you what he gathered. “This is.”
“Then what…what is this?” You choke on a gasp, curling in on yourself. “What did I drink? Am I…Did I poison myself?”
Halsin quickly reaches over you to take the papers from the desk, scanning them over quickly. His eyes widen slightly before he lets out a soft sigh, eyes falling shut tightly.
“You did not poison yourself, my heart,” he tells you, causing a slight sense of relief to course through you.
However, any relief is overshadowed by the aching need now flowing through your veins. And Halsin’s presence just seems to make it worse, his smell invading your senses, his presence calling to you. You try to shove it away.
“Then what is happening?” The words are a plea on your lips as the pain starts to bloom in your belly, gnawing into your very bones.
Sensing your discomfort, Halsin speaks quickly, tossing the things aside in favor of taking the plant still gripped in your hand.
“This is Lover’s Nettle. It’s a rare plant, so I am surprised you stumbled upon it.” He reaches over you again to trade the plant for the empty vial on the desk, sticky purple residue still stuck to the glass.
He takes a small sniff and his lips quirk upwards ever so slightly. “It seems you accidentally created an aphrodisiac potion, little one - a potent one at that.”
Embarrassment wells up in your chest, almost strong enough to overwhelm your other senses. “I…what?”
Ever attuned to your emotions, the druid takes your face gently in his hands, turning your gaze towards him. “I have encountered what I believe to be this same elixir in the days of my youth. They called it Lover’s Embrace, as I am sure you can see why-“
“Halsin, you know I love you, but please-” Your plea comes out in a whine. “Is it harmful?”
Halsin smiles at you, that all too familiar twinkle in his eye. “No, my heart, it will not harm you. But it does tend to cause great discomfort until one’s…baser needs are met.”
“What?” you gasp, “why would someone create something like that?”
Gently, not wanting to rush you, Halsin readjusts and tugs you into his lap. The new position has you straddling his lap and places you slightly above him so the usually taller man has to gaze up at you for once.
“For many reasons, but the most common is just for pleasure’s sake - it was very common in brothels in the city to increase one’s pleasure during their time there.” Halsin’s voice is low now, his hands tracing patterns onto your back and making it even harder for you to stay focused.
“Although, the potion was meant to be consumed by both parties, but…” he’s leaned in now, lips brushing your jaw as he speaks. “It seems you’ve taken enough for the both of us.”
His words, his lips, the way his hands caress you, it all comes together to snap that final tiny string of restraint you had left. Turning, you capture Halsin’s lips with your own, your hands coming up to fist in the material of his shirt as you finally let the potion take over.
Gods, you want him.
You always want him, but now…you feel as if you’ll shatter into a million fragile pieces if he doesn’t touch you.
Halsin, always attuned to every part of you it seems, quickly obliges your silent thoughts. Large hands run from your hips up your sides, rucking up the fabric of your shirt as he does until, eventually, he slips his hands beneath the piece of clothing. They’re warm, as they always are - but now it feels like they’re on fire, scorching a path on your skin as he moves ever upwards, fingers trailing delicately along your spine.
“Halsin.” His name is a plea on your lips as you pull away from the kiss, forehead falling to rest against his own. “Please…”
His lips land on the corner of your own before trailing down to your jaw and lower, stoking the flames even more, until he finally moves to tug your shirt over your head - separating you both for just a brief moment before his lips are on your skin once more.
“Tell me what you need from me, my heart. State your desire and it is yours.” Halsin’s voice is low, almost a rasp as his lips brush over your neck, stopping there to suckle the skin sweetly, teeth barely grazing before moving lower.
His hands never cease their movement, both steadying in ther strength yet infuriating in the way the flit about, never staying in one place for too long and never seeming to touch you where you want him most.
A gasp slips past your lips as his thumb brush just below your breasts, and you squeeze his shoulders sharply. “Just…touch me, Halsin. Kiss me, touch me, fuck me just- please-“ Your words end on a moan as he places a particularly sharp bite to your shoulder. “Just do something, anything.”
Faster than you can blink, Halsin has you on your back beneath him, the furs that make up the tents floor soft beneath against you.
“Careful, my heart,” Halsin warns, voice low. “Your presence alone tests my control, but with words like that I cannot promise I will be able to contain it.”
You fist the fabric of Halsin’s shirt in your hands where they rest on his sides, trying to pull him impossibly closer from where he hovers over you.
“Then lose it,” you gasp, rolling your hips up into his own in search of some - any kind - of friction. “I just want you, I don’t care how. Just, please…”
That word, the one that’s already fallen from your lips several times tonight, finally reaches the man above you. His mouth is on you as soon as he hears it and you don’t bother to fight back the sounds that fall from your lips as he starts a path down your body.
The heat that started after you drank the potion feels like molten lava beneath your skin, and Halsin’s lips are doing little to douse the fire. Teeth scrape at the tender flesh of your chest before moving lower, as if he’s as desperate to touch you as you are.
After what feels like an eternity, his nose brushes the waistband of your pants, and before you can so much as think about begging, his hands are already taking them off, taking your underwear with them.
Halsin is an experienced and thorough lover, typically drawing things out to give you both the most pleasure possible. Tonight, however, he must take mercy on you. Because the moment your trousers are tossed to the side, his mouth is on you.
You almost come right there, the second you feel his tongue on you, drinking in your arousal. It’s like electricity shoots through you, and you can’t suppress the cry that falls from your lips, your hands shooting down to tangle in his hair.
Thick fingers dig into your thighs, keeping your hips pressed to the floor and his lips against your center.
You can’t stop writhing against him as his tongue presses against your clit teasing that bundle of nerves as one hand starts to slide downwards, fingers slipping through your folds to press against your entrance.
“Ah, Halsin-“ His name is like a prayer on your lips, begging him to keep touching you, afraid of what will happen if he doesn’t.
Your lover praises your plea with action, finally pressing two fingers into your warm heat. Normally, he would have to work you up to this, but with how wet you are and what you assume to be the work of the potion, he faces no resistance.
Immediately, stars erupt behind your eyes, and you are catapulted off the edge. Your climax comes on so suddenly it steals your breath away, your back arching upwards as your body fights to get closer to the source of your pleasure. It’s as if the potion has made every nerve ending more sensitive. Euphoria washes over you, and Halsin coaxes you through the tumultuous waves, lapping at you until you feel there’s nothing left.
It feels like there is not enough air to fill your lungs as you lay panting on the floor, a pitiful whine escaping your lips as Halsin pulls his fingers from you.
You watch through half-lidded eyes as he licks your spend from himself before your head falls back onto the soft furs.
Warm lips press to the inside of your leg before traveling upwards again, leaving barely-there kisses to your hips, then your stomach, then upwards still. His slow ascent gives you just enough time to gather your senses once more, just enough to realize that it’s still there.
That need. The fire beneath your skin. Even if it’s slightly dulled, you can feel the flames growing once more.
Halsin presses his lips to the valley of your breasts, then your collarbone, reaching your neck before you can gather enough words to speak.
“Gods,” you groan, arms moving to wrap around his shoulders as he presses a kiss to the corner of your lips, a breathy chuckle brushing over your cheek.
“I told you it was a potent mixture,” he says, voice full of amusement as he settles between your thighs.
It’s then, as you struggled to pull him closer, that you realize he’s still fully clothed. You paw at his shirt, your arousal growing hot in your belly once more.
“Off.”
Halsin can’t help but laugh again, kissing away the frown that tugs at your lips.
“As my lady commands.”
In a flash of that all too familiar druidic magic, his clothes are gone, leaving him blissfully bare above you.
Despite the need coursing through you, you can’t stop the way your eyes trail over him. The muscles rippling in his shoulders as he adjusts his position, the dark hair dusting his chest, the way his hair falls over his shoulders as he gazes down at you.
Taking his face in your hands, you lean up to capture his lips in a desperate kiss - one he returns eagerly.
He dips lower, his forearms resting beside your head as he moves to press flush against you. A moan escapes you, his body fitting perfectly against your own. You can feel him, hot and heavy against your core, can sense the way he tries to restrain himself but fails as his hips rut against you.
Halsin pulls away from your lips, chest heaving with ragged breaths as he presses his forehead to yours. You watch the slight grimace in his face as his eyes flicker open and a flash of gold overtakes them before disappearing.
The beast.
Gods, if you weren’t desperate for him the way his now, you’d tell him to let go. Beg for him to devour you like you know he’s able. But you don’t, instead you wrap your legs around his waist as fingers dig into his back.
“Halsin please, I can’t wait another moment, just-” A whine escapes from your throat as he rolls his hips again, teasing your clit as he pressed harder against you.
“Take me.”
He needs no more encouragement, lining himself up before thrusting into you in one fluid motion. Your body gives way to him with ease, taking him to the hilt in one thrust that pushes the air from your lungs.
You dig your heels into him, begging him to move as words escape you, a request he complies with eagerly. His thrusts are firm, and soon he’s built up a steady rhythm that brushes against that devastating spot inside you each time.
His head falls to the crook of your neck, kissing just below your ear and nipping the delicate skin with blunt teeth.
“I am not ashamed to say I have fantasized about this,” Halsin breathes, voice ragged as he continues to move against you, arms slipping beneath your shoulders to wrap you in a snug embrace.
“I imagined what it would be like having you like this beneath me, writhing and needy just as you are now.”
His words spark something within you, increasing the pleasure pooling in your belly and forcing a moan from your lips again. “Halsin…”
He lets out a groan of his own at the sound of his name on your lips, and suddenly your world is spinning as he hauls you up from the floor. He’s on his knees now, you in his lap as he continues to thrust up into you, arms wrapped securely around your body to keep you pressed flush against him.
The new angle allows him to press deeper, sending shocks of pleasure that have your fingers tingling and toes curling as you sag against him.
A firm hand settles at the back of your head, cradling it gently as his lips brush your ear.
“But in my dreams, it’s not just you who’ve consumed the elixir. Instead, we both indulge.” A kiss is pressed to your cheek, arms tightening around you as his thrusts become more frantic and that familiar coil in your core starts to pull taut.
“The potion works as it’s designed, making us crave each other to the point of lust-addled passion. The craving is so strong that all control is lost and there is nothing but pure pleasure as we claim each other.”
Gods, his words are pure fuel to the fire within you, creating images you don’t dare to push away. Fingers dig into his back, your nails no doubt leaving marks on his tanned skin as you cry out.
“Halsin, please, I’m close, I-“ A strangled moan leaves your lips as one of his hands works its way between your bodies to tease your clit.
“Come for me, my heart,” Halsin says, his voice a whispered command against your skin. “Let me hear my name on your lips once more.”
All it takes is one more press of his hips for you to obey. The coil snaps and you are falling once again into unadulterated bliss, Halsin’s name flowing from your lips like a mantra.
He works you through your climax as he chases his own end, a few more harsh thrusts before he’s filling you with a groan, then going still against you.
Slowly, ever so gently, he leans forward, laying you amongst the furs before following suit.
You wince slightly as he moves away from you, but quickly settled into the arms he offers you, cheek against his damp chest and one leg thrown over his own as you press against his side.
Exhaustion tugs at every part of your being, but despite being blissed out and spent, you can still feel that smoldering ember in your belly, unsure if it is the pleasure still waning or the potion waiting to be flamed once more.
“Is it…how long does it take for it to wear off?” you ask softly, tongue heavy in your parched mouth.
Halsin hums and you can feel the vibrations against your cheek as he reaches up to place a hand against your forehead.
“You are still running hot,” he observes before dropping his hand to rub soothingly up your arm. “This particular mixture does not wane quickly,” he tells you, a tinge of apology in his voice. “It may be well into sunrise before it completely leaves your system.”
He smiles then, an action you see solely because his words cause you to look up at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. “That long?”
Halsin laughs, nodding and pulling you against him again. “It is a powerful concoction. However,” he pauses, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, “it is gracious enough to give you brief respites. So, sleep now, my heart, and when the tendrils of desire pull you from your slumber I will be here waiting.”
Your eyes are already slipping closed as he speaks, your limbs resting heavily against him as he holds you close.
And as you drift off to sleep you can’t help the eagerness that stirs in your chest for what awaits when you wake.
Tags:
@daedriclys
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DOG BLOOD (狗血)
YANDERE! PROTAGONIST x SADISTIC! LOVE INTEREST! READER
tw/cw: everyone’s gender is up to interpretation. dddne, yandere themes, violence, suggestive content
but what if you were never the villain, but a love interest.
MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS ARE STRICTLY FORBIDDEN FROM ALL MY POSTS!! LEAVE OR I WILL BLOCK!!
CASSIEL was a bored, lonely person. Through countless of timelines and people they’ve been with, none have piqued their interest in the slightest.
Even you.
But as a love interest, it was your job to keep them well — interested. Engaged. Entertained by the thought of romancing you.
But they never did.
They always ended up completing the game without touching a single person. Not any of the romancable options nor even the concubines offered to them in their conquests. A solitary existence.
You could only smile as a façade to hide your frustrations, as in some timelines they saw it fit to kill you.
“You . . . “
Your lines were as followed,
‘You can use me however you’d like.’
You said it at least a hundred times now. Your diction, tone, gestures were always perfectly replicated. It was the one line you could say that didn’t result in a horrific torture and death.
But this time, you felt nothing. Fear left you long ago. What was the point of being careful when you knew every outcome of every action and decision?
“You’re bored are you not?”
Cassiel’s head swiveled so quickly you were almost worried it would come right off.
You did the same thing you always did. You climbed their lap. Your hand around atop shoulders. Your face next to their ear.
In many other lifetimes, it’d end with them shoving you off. Maybe even, breaking your legs before outright killing you.
And yet this time it was as different. Stiff.
Your pointer finger grazes across their jaw, to their lips, and then their nose bride as you studied their beautifully crafted features. The protagonist was the Gods’ favorite after all, you never truly had the opportunity to savor that perfectly sculpted face.
“Lie down, be good, and we can have some fun. Shall we, your highness?”
The night was long. The two of you were inexperienced, but you weren’t about to let go of such an opportunity — your stamina be damned.
Adrenaline carried you throughout the night. Their highness’s wet eyelashes and swollen lips were another point of motivation. As they came undone underneath you several times, it all ended when curiosity took hold of you once more and your hands reached their throat.
And you squeezed. Wrenched all the air out of their throat.
Finally, a familiar sight greets you as the world collapses. Because what would it be without its protagonist?
[ RESET COMPLETE : BEGINNING CONSCIOUSNESS UPLOAD ]
You awoke again, back to the same place and time. Your eyes flicked to your hands.
Your heart fluttered.
You reached climax after climax with the royal. The protagonist you sought after for what felt like hundreds and thousands of years.
But nothing felt better than the moment you ended their life instead. The power you felt. You were utterly drunk on it.
In any case, after that event, you slowly began realized how soft the protagonist truly was. The conqueror of the world melted like a puddle when you took the charge, and almost evaporated when you’d coddle or pamper them afterwards.
You also slowly began to realize how much more you needed to get that high once more. Simply killing them wasn’t enough. You wanted them to feel betrayed. You wanted them to scream in horror once you flayed them alive. You wanted them to cry out in fear when you’d chase them down and re-create those times when they’d torture you.
But then, you would catch a smile here and there. In moments where it wasn’t supposed to exist. Cassiel moaning during the times you’d cut open his arms in an attempt to study their body’s anatomy better wasn’t something the pleased you at all. It took away the pleasure of your hobby. The joy you’d receive when you had them to play within your hands. The ecstasy of being the one to bring about pain to your torturer’s favorite.
“Stop making sounds you’re distracting me.”
“My . . . hah . . . apologies. It just feels . . . amazing.”
You paused. Your movements frozen as your mind processed what they just said.
Tch. Turn-off.
©️ yoru.no.seiiki - yun | 2023
taglist: @the-dumber-scaramouche @justkouisenough @rxflen
#yns.cassiel#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere fic#yandere x you#yancore#tw yandere#yandere core#yandere blog#yandere concept#yandere imagine#sub yandere#yandere scenario#masochist yandere#gn reader#yandere protagonist
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fitness guide for Beginners & Lazy Girls 💫
DON'T START OFF TRYING TO FIX THE ISSUE WITH MONEY. if you're not an active person who enjoys exercise, you shouldn't be paying for a yearly sub to an expensive gym just because the new year sparkle made you feel like 2025 is your glow up year. this feeling will wear off and leave you with a sense of frustration and failure.
do start off with FINDING OUT WHAT KIND OF MOVEMENT MAKES YOU HAPPY and makes you come back for more. try out different things. dance, run, play a sport, swim, lift weights, do yoga, whatever it is, and really get the feel of what releases all those good chems on your brain.
TAKE IT VERY EASY AT FIRST. if you don't ever work out, there is literally no reason for you to be doing the most out of a sudden and trying to make up for lost time in one session. you will only harm your body and discourage yourself by feeling hurt. it takes a long time to get used to new movement. give your body time and take baby steps when you start.
LEARN ABOUT WHAT YOUR BODY IS AND WHAT IT CAN BE. if you don't know the first thing about your anatomy and your nutritional habits, you will fall into easy traps that take away motivation and harm your discipline. (for example, when you're overweight and you start dieting and working out, you'll likely lose a lot of weight in the first weeks, more than a normal weight person would; you need to know that, so that when your weight loss slows down, you'll understand that it's not due to you failing but a natural part of the process.)
SEPARATE YOUR HEALTH FROM YOUR APPEARANCE. fitness will improve both, but you have to have a very clear line separating them because they are not inclusive of one another. you can look gorgeous and be unhealthy, and you can be healthy and not look like your ideal self. it's very important to know which is which, and to always prioritize your health.
you don't have to do a lot (you actually can't do a lot at first like I said above) but JUST DOING WHATEVER IS NOT GONNA CUT IT either. no, doing one minute of exercise daily is not gonna bring about health or appearance benefits, no matter how hardcore that one minute feels like. you should aim for at least 30 minutes of focused and continuous physical activity, because that's how you get results but also it's how you build an actual routine.
always remember that YOU CAN CHANGE WHATEVER IS NOT WORKING FOR YOU, at any time, for whatever reason you decide. if working out in the middle of the afternoon is better for you than working out as soon as you wake up, go for it. if you suddenly realize that you're not a pilates princess but actually a muscle mommy, go for it. don't get stuck trying to follow one path forever, go with the flow. remember that this journey will change you, so it's normal that your methods will change too.
BE VERY HONEST ABOUT YOUR DIET, because you can't outrun your fork, especially if your fitness goal is to lose weight. yes, building muscle mass and using your energy expenditure on exercise will help, but it's your diet that determines whether your body is receiving more or less than it is giving away, and if you're in denial about how much or how healthy are your food decisions, then it will be really hard to balance it all out. I'm not saying you need to give up eating anything at all, but if you are in a position where your diet is harming your health and/or your appearance, then it is obvious that you will have to sacrifice something, whether cutting back on portions and frequency, whether it's actually cutting off some foods.
and finally, EMBRACE YOUR LAZINESS! embrace that you dislike working out and that it's not your thing! trust me, exercise is not something you have to love in order to do. if you have to treat it as a necessity rather than a hobby or a fun activity, so what? if you accept that you're never gonna be one of those "the gym is addictive!" people, and still you manage to work out and stay fit, it's only gonna feel thatuch more amazing to you, because you'll know you're doing something you need to do even though you don't want to do it. don't deny or fight against your nature, work with it!
GOOD LUCK, LITTLE STAR 💫
#becoming that girl#becoming her#it girl#it girl affirmations#it girl aesthetic#it girl energy#that girl#that girl aesthetic#self care#self love#self improvement#personal growth#clean girl#wellness girl#health and wellness#fitspo#fitness#healthy living#wellnesscore#glow up#glow up journey#wonyoungism#self discipline#self development#be confident#take care of yourself#healthy girl#green juice girl#mental health#health & fitness
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it flows and it flows and it flows
cw. selfship-coded, f!reader (no specified anatomy), pre-canon, pre-relationship, childhood friend au, reader eats a defined devil fruit, love as sacrifice, denial of feelings + mutual pining, vulture culture mention
pairing. portgas d. ace x black!fem!reader
synopsis. as a hydrophiliac, eating a devil fruit is a horrifying thought. as a pirate, eating a devil fruit is an incredibly dumb decision. you'll gladly embrace the horrors and stupidity to keep your loved ones safe.
notes. the way i planned on writing something else for my next childhood friend au installment but this decided it would be making a cameo first whoops. cover comes from monet's impression, sunrise (1872) it just reminds me of ace.
For its moniker of Faerie Faerie Fruit, it isn’t pretty to look at.
The name itself invokes the imagery of translucent wings, tinkling laughter and pixie dust at your fingertips. The fruit in your hands invokes anything but the aforementioned. No, this fruit seems more akin to invoking something out of your nightmares with its gray and pruny peel. All the more damning is the way the face of the fruit is caved in, like a woman in mourning.
According to the encyclopedia you’d skimmed through, once upon a time, this isn’t even the ugliest the Faerie Faerie Fruit can achieve. That has been allocated to the sickly green Goblin model. Knowing this does nothing to quell how unsettling the fruit in your hands is to look at. A fitting feeling for Model Banshee, the variant of the Faerie Faerie Fruit that had fallen in your hands on this most recent adventure across the Moss Isles.
“You should eat it!” Wallace insisted at dinner with a sharp-toothed grin, holding his keg of beer in your direction. “Then the Spades'll finally have a power holder besides the captain!”
Ace squinted at the good-natured fishman with an offended pout, leaning over as best as he could with Kotatsu on his lap. “So I’m not good enough now, Wallace?” The gray lynx mewed, disgruntled at the movement and Ace settled down. “It’s nice to know how you really feel!” In spite of his words, Ace’s lips were curled into a smile as he snickered. He blended perfectly against the Grand Line’s reddening sky, carmine and vermillion painted against the clouds.
“Won’t it be confusing to have two banshees on the ship though,” you asked with a half-smile in return, nodding in the direction of the strawberry blonde. At the mention of her name, the woman grinned at you impishly.
“Maybe you should sell it to me then,” the ginger nodded in satisfaction at the thought. “Then I really would be a banshee!”
“You want it?” You leaned over with intrigued.
As quickly as she brought it up, Banshee shot it down, “no offense to Ace, but if I’m gonna be a pirate,” she gestured beyond the borders of the Spadille, to the sea itself. “I want the security of knowing I won’t drown if I fall into the ocean.” A chorus of laughter followed as Ace whined that his eating the Flame Flame Fruit had only been an accident. A very unforeseen accident.
In one exchange, you were brought back to square one.
You sigh, unable to help a few chuckles. It’s only luck your time on Sixis Island didn’t result in you losing your ability to swim then when you unknowingly bit into the Flame Flame Fruit. Being the first to bite into it, only Ace received any abilities from it. As much as he hadn’t been prepared to eat the thing, however, you can admit it is an ability that suits him.
Ace is like a flame that draws in anyone lucky enough to notice its glow. You want more and more people to see it and relish the warmth of your friend as much as you do.
That doesn’t mean you want to necessarily join him in the ranks of being cursed to drown should you fall into a body of water. Eat, sell or toss it back into the depths for someone else to discover. Those are the only options for a person who finds a devil fruit.
“You shouldn’t eat it anyway,” Ace told you softly when the conversation moved on to a different topic. “You love swimming.”
You love water as easily as you breathe. It has been one of your best friends since your childhood on Dawn Island.
You remember jumping into crocodile infested rivers.
You can hear Luffy’s sniffles as he clung to you desperately. How Sabo sighed, “Can’t you become one with the water in a way that doesn’t look like you drowned?” How Ace, whose face donned more scowls than smiles at 10, rasped a fist against your head in agreement and ranting all the while.
You recall the cool of the returning tide as you looked for seashells on the beach. Then you’d take each one back to Dadan’s, resting them beside your growing collection of unconventional treasures of mummified paws, empty turtle shells and dissected owl pellets. Seashells and stones were the bones of the sea and earth respectively, your grandfather had told you once, so they belonged with your treasure trove as much as any of your other finds.
I wonder if Dadan’s tossed all that out by now, you wonder vaguely. Well if she does, I hope she doesn’t touch my eggs. Protect ‘em for me, Luffy. You remember the beaming haul of large anaconda eggs you’d painted over after Dadan cracked them open for breakfast. There had been four for each of you.
A yellow egg for Luffy, a red egg for Ace and blue for Sabo before you finally painted one over in your own favorite color. You think Sabo’s egg is the collective favorite of the members of your quartet that remain.
It’s only been 7 months or so since you left your life on Dawn Island but it feels like it has been years. Yet throughout it all, the ocean had been a steady companion.
You love it as an extension of your very being.
And yet…
Sloppily drawn eggs and raucous laughter filling the air when you should have been sleeping flood your mind. Your eyes rest on the creepy fruit resting in your hand once again. You don’t necessarily desire joining Ace and Luffy in the ranks of incurring the disdain of the sea, truly. But-
“Flameo, Hotman,” you say suddenly at the approaching heat and footsteps that announce Ace’s presence before his words can.
Ace grins as he rests his arms on the edge of the Spadille, “how’d you know it was me,” he asks unnecessarily, sea breeze running its invisible fingers through his wavy locks. Your eyes crinkle from how you smile at the sight.
You nudge him carefully, fingers tightening slightly over the fruit in your hands, “I felt the furnace getting closer and closer.”
Ace snorts, signature grin on his face. It should feel stranger, seeing him smile so much when he tended to frown and furrow his brow constantly when you were children, but it doesn’t. Smiles suit Ace more than any other expression you’ve seen him have in the past. “What are you over here thinking about?” His eyes dart to the fruit in your hands. “Are you gonna throw it back?”
“It certainly crossed my mind,” you admit with a shrug. Maybe if you hadn’t stopped to think about the past, you would have. The fact you hesitated is more than enough of a sign that your heart hadn’t been into the idea. “I changed my mind, though.”
“What does it do anyway?” Ace poked the wrinkly face with a curious finger.
“Banshees are supposed to be some kind of faerie of death,” you think back to your base information you know about the beings the fruit derives its name. “When someone is gonna die soon, they scream and keen to let people know. But that’s about all that’s really known about ‘em. When you think about it, it kinda suits me, huh?” He hums thoughtfully, looking at the thing deeply and you continue on. “Remember when you gave me my first turtle shell?”
The freckled man’s face softens with a nostalgic smile, “Dadan said boys are supposed to give girls flowers not corpses.” You can hear the cranky woman’s voice even now, exasperated at how you excitedly twirled with the item in your hand. She never quite understood your interest in vulture culture but beside the odd complaint, she never discouraged it.
“I thought it was pretty cool,” you snicker in return. “But you probably should default to flowers whenever you find someone you like. I don’t know if they’d be as appreciative as me.” Whoever that person is, they’ll be lucky. You disregard the strange itch in your chest and thoughts of sky blue hair as Ace rolls his eyes with a chuckle. He may think the idea of someone loving him is ludicrous but he’s an idiot when it comes to such notions.
Portgas D. Ace is special and deserves to be loved in a special way. He will be, someday.
With a sigh, you turn so your back is facing the edge of the ship rather than your front. “Anyways,” you divert the topic back to the former. “I have to admit that it’s pretty useful, objectively thinking. There’s a lot of people out there who wanna avoid death like the plague.” Your heart clenches uncomfortably once more, albeit for a reason you can discern.
Ace nods at your words, “it’ll definitely go for a lot when we get to the next island. So try not to accidentally drop it now that you’ve decided you won’t be doing it intentionally.”
“Oh shut up,” you snort but not unkindly.
But he’s right, this would probably go for a shit ton, not that you know how many berries most devil fruit go for on the market. A devil fruit that grants its user the ability to sense death, however, certainly is above the average.
A smile missing a tooth comes to mind and you have to stop yourself from squeezing additional indents into the Faerie Faerie Fruit. The rough hands of your grandfather covering your own as he shows you how hook a worm follows.
Sabo and Grandpa are gone, there’s no bringing them back.
There are people you love who are still here though, your thumb brushes against the face of the fruit. Indented in anguish as it silently screams for the imminent loss of life. You glance at Ace who is content to stare out at the waves carrying the crew to its next destination. You feel yourself smiling again before you can stop yourself, wistful.
You love the water, it’s as easy as breathing. It’s been your best friend for as long as you could remember.
You remember listening with giddy awe to your grandfather recounting how taking you out the bath as a baby was nigh impossible unless the tub was empty first.
You can hear Makino’s panic as you groggily wake up, realizing you fell asleep in the midst of your floating. Your head hung sheepishly as she scolded you, voice uncharacteristically sharp about the dangers of falling asleep in the ocean. “Heaven forbid the sea king was around!”
You recall the shared panic of Luffy falling underneath a lake’s surface, you, Ace and Sabo diving after him in unison.
If you could become the ocean itself, you’d gladly do so and let your limbs dissolve into it and feel the pulse of every living creature residing within.
Another sigh slips from your lips as you look over your shoulder at the sunset-stained gem the Piece of Spadille sails across. I’m really going to miss being in it. You don’t necessarily want the curse eating a devil fruit will bring, but even if you can’t swim in it anymore you will find ways to still enjoy it.
With solidified determination, you bite into the ominous fruit resting in your hands without a second thought.
At your movement, Ace looks in your direction.
His eyes go from inquisitive to as wide as dinner plates in the span of seconds, calling out your name in frantic surprise. “What are you doing?!” Large, freckled hands reach for you and you side step him immediately before breaking into a run. “Spit it out!”
God this tastes awful, you nearly gag but you force yourself to swallow the piece anyway. Hearing heavy boots chasing after you, you bite into the wrinkled fruit once more. Just in case the first bite doesn’t take.
“Um, [First]?” You barely hear Deuce’s confused reaction. “Ace?”
“Can you stop Ace for me? Thanks!” You call back to the masked man.
“Stop her from being an idiot!” Ace shouts after you.
The Masked Deuce smartly decides being neutral is his only course of action. “You guys figure it out! We’ll, uh, we’ll be over here!”
You could squeal from how close he is but you manage to bite into the foul-tasting flesh a final time before warm arms wrap around your waist, preventing further escape. You swallow instinctively.
“[First]!” You pull against how he tries to grapple your possession from your hands. Try as you might, you aren’t able to get a fourth bite in. You squeeze your eyes shut, not that it does much but it does prevent you from seeing what is undoubtedly an Ace with a frown.
“Can’t spit out anything,” you cry before Ace can start that up once again. It is far too late for the man to do anything about your consuming the Faerie Faerie Fruit. “I already bit into the shit three times!”
“But why?!” Ace asks incredulously.
“Because it’s useful! I’m not giving this sort of ability up!” You stop wriggling, knowing it is redundant when you’ve already done what you’ve set out to do. “I just,” you open your eyes, downcast. “I don’t want to lose anyone else I care about.”
If you were to ever sense Ace or Luffy’s deaths, it will break you. At least you know in those moments, you’ll be able to do something about it. There doesn’t have to be anymore Grandpas or Sabos, not for you. Not if you can stop it. You’ll gladly eat a dozen more Faerie Faerie Fruits if it gives you any ability to keep them safe.
There’s a pause then a groan of resignation as your feet touch the deck again. I guess there’s no point in eating anymore of this, you look at what remains of the fruit. You aren’t sure exactly how it will change you in ways beyond a newly acquired death ping. You resign yourself to eating the rest regardless.
The silence isn’t entirely uncomfortable but it isn’t comfortable either, it just is. There’s nothing else that can be done about your decision.
“You can’t ever take this back, you know,” his voice is soft.
“I know,” you murmur after the last of the devil fruit has been eaten. “I don’t need the ocean like that anyway.” You will find new ways to enjoy it. Finally you turn to look at the man who has been your closest friend since you were 10. You were practically family. Family, that’s right. Family looks out for each other. You are going to look out for Portgas D. Ace whether he likes it or not, you promised yourself this after you met Old Man Naguri.
Even as Ace looks at you with equal parts acceptance and sorrow on your behalf, you think the sacrifice is worth it. It’s bitter but the sweet in your chest outweighs it.
“That’s one more thing we have in common,” you try to lighten the mood. “Paramecia and Logia differences aside.”
Ace sighs but he gives you a snicker of courtesy, “I would have been fine with us not having this in common.”
“Eeeh, you’ll get over it.” I’ll get over it, you chuckle, turning back to face the horizon. The sun’s almost been swallowed entirely by the sea and there are more things dotting the sky than you remember there being a few minutes ago. Your eyes widen at the ghastly image of whales swimming through the skies as if unaware their time has passed many moons ago.
Whales, stingrays, sharks and unidentifiable fish as far as you can see.
A silent procession across the Grand Line only for your newly acquired eyes. It almost makes you want to cry.
“Is everything alright,” Ace draws you back in, eyebrows knit in concern.
You wonder if Grandpa and Sabo’s ghosts are gallivanting about Dawn Island.
“Yeah.”
#look she's writing#one piece x reader#op x reader#ace x reader#portgas d ace x reader#one piece#portgas d ace#i just have been brainrotting a lot about this man#him his freckles his large hands his warm skin#look it's self shipping hours#sea otters#flaming pearls#one piece imagines#op imagines#flaming pearls (sea otters)#ace x black!reader#x black!reader
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I dmand EVERY picture of CJ you had drew!! Pretty please
Considering I'm super disorganized about my art and don't post everything I draw (sometimes it stays just in my server or among friends, or I just don't show anyone because it's unfinished/I'm unsatisfied), I'll have to find a lot of stuff that I've forgotten about.
Actually, I can just show some stuff that I *haven't* posted! (Everything else I ever have should be here.) Some of this stuff is Krow before I added the white hair because I didn't have that idea until around April.
^ Appropriately titled "Krow Smug Bitch". Everyone has fun with the cowboy AUs so why can't I?
^ He got nervous about seeing Usagi/Yukito I suppose
^ This one is interesting. Originally it was supposed to be just Krow as a magical boy, but then it turned into a bit of a mythology AU. He's the son of Yatagarasu the Three-Legged Crow from Shinto myth. Wasn't quite sure about everything... this was probably the result of watching too much Kamichama Karin as a kid lol
^ For fans of Transformers - TFP Optimus Prime with good ol' canon CJ! I feel like they would get along. Something about that red-and-blue leader drew him in I guess.
^ This was actually my first pass at an older version design of Krow. This was a complete piece too, but I was unsatisfied within a week or two. You can still see that I kept some things, notably the piercings, beard, and the idea of tattoos, as well as the Leo-inspired shoulder pads. The tattoo designs changed and so did the armor color, but it was an interesting first try at the older design.
^ A second attempt and older Krow, I was getting closer. (Still love the fashion on this though.)
^ The point I realized that I can't draw this man thin and have to start drawing him beefier and more filled out more consistently because it would be a crime against god or something. Was still finalizing his tattoos at this point and playing around with the idea of white hair. Considered the idea of the Hamato crest tattoo near his heart before nixing it because it's too cheesy and the Hamato tattoo is something a lot of people do for older/future character designs.
^ Ninpo weapon design for Older Krow! Yes he has a cyan scythe (really more of a kusarigama since it has a chain and weight at the end). Yes it's cool as fuck. No you can't touch it.
He's basically a reaper and it plays into his whole aesthetic as a crow, which symbolizes an omen of death. Crows are also often seen with scythe and scarecrow imagery because they're related to harvests.
I don't know why I never posted this, it *looks* finished... I think there was something off about the anatomy and I intended to fix it and then forgot and ugh. But anyway! There you go.
^ A height chart for younger Krow and Yukito that I never quite finished. But it's interesting to see them to the actual scale that I imagine them to be - Krow is 5'6", and Yukito's height is reversed since he's 6'5". Since both are around 19 when they meet, they're at their full adult heights here. Long live your short king!
^ Older Krow with lightning gloves. Which doesn't make sense actually because his gloves are electrical insulators to keep himself from getting zapped from one of his attacks. But who cares about that! It's cool!
^ Scythe sketch. Just trying to get a feel for the vibe of how he wields one. His cape/cloak plus the scythe probably gives opportunity for some really cool directional flow to occur.
^ Something I doodled just the other day. Old Krow but more cartoony and goofy. Love this silly guy!
I'm sure there's many more that I've missed, probably lots of half-finished sketches and doodles, but this is a lot of what I've found.
#this is a lot more than i thought it was!#snipersiniora#rottmnt#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rottmnt casey jr#rise casey jr#casey jones jr#casey jr#krow jones#holopossums#holopossum answers#long post forgib#super secret 2024 cj/krow art stash
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On Crown and Weapons and Fighting
Note/s: So I was speculating about which of the Crown members can actually fight, like who among them is actually good at it, has legit combat knowledge, and is capable of punching someone into the next century, and as a result, this post kinda got out of hand.
I initially meant this to be very chill and casual, but it turns out I have a lot to say and the ideas just ran off on their own, and I had no choice but to follow along to see where it took me.
I doubt I'd be able to make a proper headcanon post like this again soon unless someone suggested another topic, but yeah. Hope this turned out well >:3
Dividers and headers are by the super talented @natimiles ♡♡♡
Content Warning/s: Strong language, mentions of canon-typical violence
Might be controversial, but I think William's more reliant on the use of weapons than his actual combat prowess.
As a noble, I think he learned fencing in his youth, and while he was good at it, I don't think he ever took it seriously until the day he decided to kill his father and establish Crown with Victor afterwards. He learned the intricacies of wielding a blade, and he even started to appreciate the art of swordplay during mock combat sessions with Victor.
Most of the time, though, he doesn't even need to use his sword because he can incapacitate someone easily with his power alone. His preferred method of dishing out punishment is still by ordering someone to take their own life because it serves to prove a point; it's to rob his victims of agency the same way they've done to countless innocents before they had the misfortune of being dealt with by him.
He rarely ever deviates from his trademark “Cut your throat”, but when he's feeling extra devilish and in the mood to prolong a target's suffering and instill the fear of God in them, that's when his extensive knowledge on human anatomy comes in handy. He knows all the places to cut that can effectively kill a person in a matter of seconds, so if he purposely avoids them, there must be a special place in hell waiting for you once he finally decides to send you there.
I have a gun-user Harrison agenda, and this is the perfect time to mention it! That sword that's strapped to his hip at all times is nonexistent to me. He carries a gun, bitch (maybe even two), and he's not afraid to use it. Also, his main weapon being a gun is, in my opinion, a perfect reference to his abandoned dreams of becoming a cop and joining the police force (such a real missed opportunity there cybird).
I like to imagine he does regular target practice with Roger in the garden. They line up all manners of ceramic and clayware, then use air guns and pellets to avoid accidentally killing someone or themselves. Roger would prefer the target practice to commence at dawn, but he knows he has a better chance of convincing the Queen herself to join him in the flesh than for Harry to be up and functioning during the early hours of the morning.
Roger also probably invites him to go hunting with his dad when it's the season. It's my way of giving Harrison a proxy father figure because God knows he needs a new one, but I also just really like the idea of them being good friends. Just a couple of book-smart intellectuals with a penchant for firearms.
But combat-wise, he's in the same boat as Will in that I don't think he knows anything beyond basic self-defense and how to effectively disarm someone. Like he knows how to throw a punch, sure, but his overall martial prowess isn't anything noteworthy or that impressive, to be honest.
Liam is a bit of a wildcard when it comes to fighting. His greatest strength lies in his ability, which enables him to disappear at will, allowing him to sneak up on enemies and immobilize them even without having to make his presence known.
He can use it from the jump or even in the midst of a scuffle to neutralize a disadvantage in skill or physicality on his part by virtue of having the element of surprise and the unpredictable factor it gives him. Imagine how embarrassing it would be, too, because if he's invisible for most of the fight, it's going to look like you're fighting air and losing.
While I don't think Liam has had any formal martial arts training that would put him a peg above Harry and Will in terms of combat, he's quite difficult to defend against given the no-limit-or-drawbacks-of-any-kind invisibility, not to mention he also moves rather swiftly.
He's light on his feet, has good instincts, and possesses cat-like agility. You'd be hard-pressed not to feel a bit paranoid when you're up against him because he can easily swoop in and go for the kill to stick a knife in your back or slice at your throat, and you wouldn't even be able to brace for it. Although maybe sudden death is more merciful than the unfortunate alternative of being a victim to one of his fits.
Frail Victorian Child™. Bro is an aristocrat with an abysmal appetite. He eats so fucking little, a plant probably consumes more sustenance than him during the course of its much shorter lifespan. Every time he sneezes, the others are probably in awe at how he doesn't disintegrate on the spot.
What combat? This man is fighting to stay alive and not die of starvation and/or dehydration on a daily basis.
With that said, it's my personal headcanon that he probably took up fencing after the doctor incident as a proper way of defending himself in case something similar were to ever happen again.
Despite being constantly at risk of getting blown away by strong winds, he has his moments where the monomania kicks in and the uncharacteristic strength and energy the resulting single-mindedness lends him enables him to accomplish and acquire pretty much anything he sets his sights on (as demonstrated in his route).
I'm just gonna put it out there, this man can't fight. Can't throw a punch, an elbow, a kick—nothing. He can't throw anything, but he's probably very adept at tossing someone's salad.
He doesn't like performing any kind of manual labor because it reminds him of his atrocious childhood. And he harps on Roger for being burly and brutish because one of Roger's hobbies is learning how to beat someone up for fun.
The best he can do is probably bitch slap someone, but even then he's shaking off his hand to get rid of the sting. He's fortunate that his ability is like Will and Elbert's, where he's able to incapacitate someone without expending much effort on his part, because he is not at all inclined to build muscle or learn the art of combat whatsoever.
Can and will punch your lights out; no questions asked. He's been frequenting bars and pubs all his life; it's probably a dream of his to get into a brawl at one of them for any reason at all, but no one's insane enough to pick a fight with him on account of his immense height and intimidating build.
Fun fact: the average height of men during the Victorian era was around 167 cm. Roger's height is 183 cm. Bro is several inches taller than the average English gentleman. Not to mention he's swol as fuck, too. A good deal more muscular than a regular doctor has any right to be.
I'm pretty sure he's capable of killing a man even with just his bare hands. Like just punching someone to death, I'm sure he could do it if prompted, but it's not a level of violence he would ever sink to nor indulge in.
Weapons-wise, I think it's interesting how he's essentially the sharpshooter in Crown despite being one of the few proficient members at hand-to-hand combat. Like it makes sense because he can identify targets at a distance due to his enhanced hearing, so a long-range weapon is a no-brainer. Very practical given his ability, but at the same time, kind of funny because of his poor eyesight. Luckily, that's what the scope is for.
Has demonstrated countless times in canon that he can fight. He's tall and gangly, but swift and agile like an acrobat, and he probably trains with Roger and asks him to give him pointers on top of that.
He's employed by Jude as well as a two-in-one bodyguard/assistant, so I bet he's somewhat motivated to maintain his skills and physicality due to that fact, but I get the sense that he also just really enjoys it.
His natural athleticism gives me the impression of a kid who used to climb up trees in their yard growing up, even though his parents kept telling him not to. I think it's cute to imagine him as a rambunctious kid with a surplus of energy that he had to burn by climbing trees as high as he could and constantly chasing his twin brother around, or else he'd be restless and making his parents lose sleep come nightfall.
Ellis' gentle demeanor actually works to his advantage because it's hard to imagine someone so calm and soft-spoken being able to commit murder so swift and easily at the behest of someone else. Jude could order him to carve someone up like they're cake about to be served at a birthday party, and he'd do it with an air of perfect serenity.
You must have a death wish if you want to square up against this motherfucker. Ellis isn't even necessary, the man is fully capable of winning his own battles. The only reason he has Ellis as a semi-bodyguard is because he doesn't have the time nor the patience to knock someone's teeth in himself.
Like, oh, you have a personal vendetta against him and are looking to settle the score? Yeah, well, so does everybody else; get in line and kindly wait for his assistant to duke it out with you. Very sorry that he can't address your grudge personally; he has places to be and people to extort—I mean solicit.
If you insist on having your grudge satisfied by him and him alone, so be it. Although, truth be told, you might've preferred being handled by his assistant had you an idea of the sheer hell your persistence would be awarded with beforehand. Jude knows how to fight and he's not at all reluctant to get dirty with it.
If you think he's above kicking someone who's already down, you're wrong. If you think he knows when to call it quits and stop to say someone's had enough, you're wrong. If you think lopping off a limb or two just 'cause he can is extreme and twisted and kind of psychotic, you're right! But he doesn't care; this is what you asked for, and he's all too happy to finally silence the buzzing of persistent pests.
Jude is already menacing and dangerous on his own; weapons just multiply his deadliness tenfold. He'd be the type to wear steel-toed boots as his everyday work shoes just to make it hurt all the more for whomever is at the receiving end of his kicks. He enjoys causing pain not only as a result of his Curse, but also because of the cruelty the world has imbued in him. He's looking to repay that hurt to anyone foolish enough to cross him.
Victor is bit of an enigma. He's a weapons enthusiast in canon and has what I assume to be an impressive collection of varying blades and daggers and guns and even unconventional weapons like axes, machetes, and whips. The real question is whether or not he knows how to use all of them or if he's only mastered a select few and is actively working to have the rest down pat.
He doesn't go on missions anymore like he used to when it was just him and Will because it's no longer necessary after acquiring so many new and deployable members, and it's better for him to be able to attend to the Queen's every beck and call as her trusted aide.
But on that front, I like to think that what William lacked in combat prowess, Victor had in spades. Apart from helping Will hone his skills with a sword, Victor taught him how to trade blows, evade punches, and the fastest way of knocking someone flat. It's been many years since Victor joined him on the prowl, but Will is still mindful of his lessons, and he even shares them with the others whenever the opportunity presents itself.
Also, if you missed out on certain events, he has this thing where he touches the back of someone's neck and they immediately crumple to the ground, unconscious. I don't know if that's his special ability or if it's just a neat trick he knows how to do, like the metaphorical button on someone's jaw you can hit in order to make them go cold. Either way, Mister Grim Reaper, sir, please tell us more of your secrets.
Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments are appreciated ( ◜‿◝ ) ᡣ𐭩.ᐟ
#me? make a formal headcanon post?#who could've seen this coming#some creative spirit possessed and compelled me to write all of this down#thank you to whatever divine force enabled me to become yappatron 3000 for the blorbos today#ikemen villains#ikevil#ikevil headcanons
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lucifer morningstar smut hcs ; 18+
requested by ; mod / self indulgent
fandom(s) ; hazbin hotel
fandom masterlist(s) ; here
character(s) ; lucifer morningstar
outline ; “smut headcanons for lucifer”
warning(s) ; sexually explicit content, versatile switch!lucifer, inappropriate use of shape shifting mentioned, vocal!lucifer, oral sex (reader receiving), daddy kink, sadomasochist!lucifer, marking kink, praise kink, body worship, one mention of bondage, lingerie kink
note ; i could write so much more for this prompt but i decided to cut it short for the sake of keeping this post at a semi-reasonable length haha ^^
minors and ageless blogs will be blocked
lucifer morningstar is, first and foremost, quite possibly the most versatile switch known to man (or demon) kind — after all, he’s had literal millennia to experiment, switch things up, and explore his boundaries, sexuality, and kinks with his ex partner so it only stands to reason that he’d be very comfortable with himself and his abilities in the bedroom by the time the two of you meet — so whether you’re more on the dominant or submissive side, or if you prefer to top or bottom in the bedroom, lucifer is more than happy to accommodate you if only you let him know your preferences and boundaries beforehand
somewhat related to the above point, but it’s well known that the king of hell is a shape shifter and, as such, he’s more than capable of switching things up, so to speak, if you want to be a bit more ‘out there’ and experimental when you have sex — of course he’s confident enough with the cock he already has and knows exactly how to use it to have you writhing and sobbing for more, but if you fancy something else for a change (be that something minor like just asking him to change sex or a more significant anatomy change like requesting tentacles) all you need to do is ask and he’s more than happy to do that for you
whether he’s dominating you or submitting to you, it’s a given that you’ll get to see two very different sides to him depending on his mood: his kinder and softer side (which corresponds to a softer style of dominance,or him being an obedient / ‘good’ submissive for youc and him getting off on your pleasure more than his own), and his more prideful and selfish ride (which results in him being a rougher and more degrading dominant, or a more bratty and demanding submissive)
no matter which role he’s adopting in the bedroom, lucifer is extremely vocal (like to the point that unless you use something to gag him, or are having sex far away from anyone else, you’re pretty much guaranteed to have anyone nearby be made immediately aware of what you’re doing) — as a dominant this usually just translates to him praising you and cussing (‘fuck… you feel so good…’ / ‘god you’re so beautiful/handsome…’ / ‘just like that…’ / etc.) and as a submissive this typically means he’s whining, moaning, groaning, or begging for you to do something or another in only half-intelligible pleas (‘please please please pl-ah-please…’ / ‘oh god…’ / etc.) — and on top of being so talkative, he’s also very loud which adds to the likelihood of the two of you getting caught in the act
one of the things that makes lucifer’s pride come out in full force is just how good he as at giving oral — he brags about it openly around you, spends ages downright begging you to let him go down on you and let him show you just how good it can feel (how he was able to steal both of adam’s wives away from him in no time at all), and when you finally agree you’ll find that he’s not just bragging for the sake of it and is genuinely really fucking good at getting you off like that
though he’d never admit to this out loud, lucifer has a very strong inclination towards being called ‘daddy’ and other such authoritative pet names in the bedroom — of course daddy is his favourite without a shadow of a doubt (and it’s very clear with how he responds after you say it), but you’ll also find him to be particularly fond of you calling him things like ‘my king’ and ‘my angel’ depending on his mood
and, likewise, when he’s in a more submissive mood (and especially when he’s really deep in sub space) there’s a very solid chance of his guard dropping and him calling you either ‘mommy’ or ‘daddy’ depending on whether you’ve leaned towards masculine or feminine terms of address in the bedroom with him in the past — if you’re uncomfortable with that then a quick, and mortifying for him, discussion will have him doing his best to hold his tongue moving forwards, but if you’re fond of that dynamic then some positive reinforcement certainly won’t go unappreciated
the most sexually sensitive parts of lucifer’s body are as follows: his horns (wrap your hands around them and stroke them from base to tip and you’ll see his eyes roll to the back of his head // or // grab them when he’s ravishing you with his mouth and use them to guide his mouth along your sex and you’ll hear him practically fucking growl as his claws dig into the meat of your thighs), his wings (whenever you help him preen and neaten his wings this poor man will be clamping one hand over his mouth to try and stop himself from moaning and scaring you off as you continue to oh so gently card your fingers through his feathers // or // whenever he’s fucking you, or you’re fucking him, and he’s close to climax you’ll see all six of his pretty wings pop up out of his back, and if you reach up to stroke them he’ll let out a groan so deep that it shakes you to your very core), his tail (his sensitivity here is only really relevant if you’re in a sadistic mood when dominating him — yank on it harshly when you’re fucking into him from behind and you’ll see his whole body straighten out and then collapse forward as he lets out a sound somewhere between a high pitched yelp and a breathy moan), and his neck (bite his pulse and suck deep obvious marks onto the pale expanse of his throat when his cock is buried inside of you and feel his breath hitch and his grip on your thighs tighten // or // when you’re dominating him and he’s being a brat, wrap your hand around his throat and tighten it for just a few moments, just enough to feel him swallow thickly and see his eyes widen as a deep moan spills from his lips despite his earlier protests, before loosening your grip and continuing with whatever you were doing)
he has plenty of sadistic and masochistic kinks that he’d love to indulge in with you, if ever you allow, but no matter which role he’s in lucifer is constantly mindful of your boundaries and never taking things too far for your mortal body and mind to handle — this worry is also why he’s the absolute best at aftercare
somewhat related to the above, but lucifer also loves being marked up by you and marking you up — whether that means lipstick marks, hickeys, scratch marks, or anything else along those lines, he’s more than happy to indulge you or, on the other end, he’s also more than eager to show off any marks you leave behind on him (it’s nice to be desired and claimed again after so long…)
he has an extremely prominent praise kink and loves to praise you and be praised by you — hell, when you’re making love it almost feels as if he’s worshipping you in body and soul as he kisses, fondles, massages, and compliments his way up and down your body — but be careful because if you spend too much time praising him and are too earnest in your reverence for him and his body, especially when he’s in sub space, then poor lucifer may just burst into (happy) tears of overwhelmment at all of your positive attention and affirmations
lucifer isn’t opposed to bondage, not on when he’s on the receiving end and not certainly not when he’s the one who gets to tie you up — though he definitely prefers more elaborate and decorative styles of bondage and usually leans towards using softer and more comfortable materials to restrain you
he loves it when you dress up for him (especially if you happen to wear lingerie in his colours — bonus points if it’s in a style that’s much more frilly and ‘fancy’), but he’s also not opposed to getting all dressed up for you once you’re both at a point where he’s comfortable showing you that side of himself — he has a very extensive lingerie collection from before the two of you met and he’s more than happy to show it all off to you so long as you’re ready to offer him plenty of praise and attention in return
#sleepingdeath#minors dni#minors will be blocked#ageless blogs dni#ageless blogs will be blocked#gender neutral reader#smut#smut hcs#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer smut
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That post about big men whining makes me think about edging Goku until he’s a sweaty and flustered mess. Just watching him tremble and glare at you for being “So mean!”. Maybe you’ll be nice and let him cum, maybe you’ll make him beg some more. Either way, it’s a win win for you!
YOU GET ME!! 😩 i didn't mean to make a thirst out of this but djhasdkjfsad
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : nsfw, sub!goku, dom!reader (no pronouns or anatomy mentioned), edging, subby saiyans >>>
:ఌ¨ ♱ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒 : 0.6k+
Goku isn't the most well-behaved sub by any means, so you almost have to edge him just to get him to take you seriously. There's nothing that makes him whiny quite like being denied pleasure does. Just imagine this beefy Saiyan whimpering into your neck, hot breaths tickling your throat as you tease him with featherlight touches, only sparing him two fingers to stroke the length of him. His cock is flushed so red it's almost purple, leaking heaps of pre and twitching at every scrap of friction you give him.
For once, Goku dares not to buck his hips, lest he'd like you to stop entirely. He was finally beginning to learn, you mused, all too satisfied with his gruff whines so close to your ear. "Y/nnn, c'monnn."
"Hm? Something wrong, baby?" You hum, feigning innocence. Even an airhead like Goku could see through such a farce.
"Wanna cum. Why're ya bein' so mean to me?" The Saiyan huffs, thick fingers clenching in the fabric of your shirt. His bulging thighs tremble with the effort to remain still, to be good like you asked. But your hand is so soft, and feels so good against his cock, he just needs more of it. Your thumb scrubs over the sensitive head, and his whole body jerks.
His tongue licks over his top teeth, eyes rolling back as your hand captures him fully, pumping him from base to tip with a firm grip. He pants against your neck with increasing frequency, thighs squirming inward and shivering. A telltale sign that he was frighteningly close, and just as he approaches the point of no return, you release his cock, letting it slap noisily against his tummy. Goku whines loud and long, a frustrated sigh following as his thick brows pinch.
"Nooo, no please don't stop. Fuck!" His hips thrust into the air, chasing a stimulation that was no longer there. His cock twitches angrily, hips still fucking the air for a few moments longer before he flattens out with an annoyed huff. "I was really close that time."
His dejected tone only makes you giggle and he pulls away from your neck just to give you the stink eye.
"Aww, my poor baby. That was pretty mean of me, huh?" You tease, and he nods despite the lack of sympathy in your tone. The tall Saiyan sits up and then crawls on top of you to straddle your hips, cock twitching against your tummy adorably. Your size difference makes it look a bit funny, but you hardly care, especially when you see just how flushed his face has become.
You rest your hands on his thighs, stroking up and down the toned muscle. His large hand snatches one of yours, guiding it from his thigh back to his cock. You let him wrap your hand around it, pleased by the way his eyes go all glossy at the feeling. You slide a hand down to fondle his heavy balls and your mouth falls open at how big and swollen they've gotten, no doubt a result of your torturous edging. He was ready to burst, you could feel it. He humps into your fist when you make no move to start up again, and you only tut.
"Hmm, well I suppose you've been good enough, haven't you? What do you think, d'you think you deserve to cum?" You hardly get the question out before he's nodding frantically.
"Uh huh, I've been good. So stop teasin' me already... please? please I just wanna cum," Goku begs, mouth falling open when you squeeze his balls and start stroking his cock again, not even scolding him as he fucks into your grasp.
"I'll be good," he babbles and you only coo at him.
"Go on then, show me how good you can be n cum loads for me."
And boy did he. All over your shirt... oh well, you supposed he earned it.
#‧₊🦇˚⊹ ashi writes#son goku x reader#goku x reader#sub!goku#sub goku#dom!reader#dom reader#sub dbz#dragon ball x reader#n/sfw
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HII, I'M SORRY I REALLY LIKE YOUR ART AND I WANTED TO KNOW HOW MUCH TIME IT TOOK TO FINALLY HAVE THE RESULTS OF BEAST/15 STYLE (i forgot the name of the creator) AND SOME TIPS :33
Helloooo thank youuuu 🥹🫶🫶🫶
I've been drawing for most of my life but I've only been taking it seriously since five years now, but truthfully I only studied beast/15 manga style aka hoshikawa's art for maybe around 2 years,
Here's my first ever attempt at drawing like hoshikawa's style back in 2022!!
I admit I don't know how to give good tips because when I began drawing I immediately decided to draw daily (at least fill out two pages) until I don't feel like it anymore, my first goal was a week but then when I finished it I didn't want to break my streak so I continued, I reached two weeks, then a month, then suddenly i drew every day for a whole year (my lazy ass was flabbergasted) and not all people can or have the time to do that I've heard,
If there's any tips I'm confident with is that the internet is full of free resources you can and SHOULD take advantage! Youtube taught me everything I know tbh it saved my life, I was just mindlessly copying before I began truly learning stuff,
In the end once you break it down hoshikawa's art is basically just stylized anatomy and skills and confidence that was built up from years of practicing and consistency, I personally only know basic anatomy rn and most times I still struggle alot tbh😭 so remember to take it easy and most importantly have fun!!🫶🫶
(Side note: study from every professional artist you can find there's always something you can learn from them, don't just stick to copying from one artist pls pls pls don't do my mistakes)
#I began yapping#Anyways#I love art so much#Mwah mwah#Hope this helped in any way shape or form#Ask#My art#Seriously guys don't underestimate youtube#There's so many professional artists giving away helpful resources for FREE
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How Autism Effects Them
For Me. Hi, I’m autistic and I write these specific characters with autism in mind. Here’s how it effects my writing of them.
Alastor
Alastor is a sensory avoidant autistic with the PDA profile.
He avoids touch unless specifically initiated by him or someone he trusts.
He cannot stand any type of soft touch and is much more receptive to strong grips.
Part of the reason he employed Niffty is because of her obsessive cleaning and his need for things to be orderly but lack of willpower or energy to clean.
He has a specific way of organizing things and Niffty quickly caught on and adopted those same values.
He avoids going certain places due to sounds which may occur. Specifically retaining to music.
He enjoys Jazz, swing, classical, and blues. That is it.
Being sensory avoidant, does not mean, however, that he never seeks sensory stimulation. It is just something he does not do often.
One of the biggest ways he seeks some sort of new experience, sensory or emotion wise, is actually through his planned chaos like with the Hotel. A situation he has some control over and sway in how it goes.
The main stimulation he will look for is the feeling of blood between his teeth and fingers or the best of his favorite songs. Though, he also enjoys the smells and tastes of various spices.
(Personally, I am of the belief that dancing is a stim that he participates in because it’s socially acceptable.)
He is very in touch with his needs and what his body communicates to him even if he doesn’t always have words to describe them.
The PDA profile of autism is known as Pathological Demand Avoidance or, preferred by many PDA-era, Persistent Drive for Autonomy. This often shows up as feeling like anything perceived as a demand is a threat and reacting accordingly.
This results in despite him knowing what his body needs, he refuses to give in to it.
How dare his body tell him to sleep, he is in the middle of very important things that he does not want to stop doing and will stay up even longer to spite his body.
How dare Charlie and Vaggie insist he use video when his radio station is perfectly available, he will mess it up out of spite.
His special interests are actually radio and body anatomy. This fueled both his career choices.
Lucifer
Lucifer is a depressed, anxiety ridden AuDHD king.
He hyperfixates on his projects and forgets to eat, drink, even go to the bathroom.
He struggles with keeping relationships.
You send him a message, he forgets to reply, remembers to reply two weeks later, spends another week debating whether or not it’s too late to reply before finally replying or just starting a new conversation.
He is easily overwhelmed in social situations and cannot maintain multiple conversations at once.
He will fixate on one person and only reply to them.
Just barges in on conversations and chimes in when initiated at inappropriate times.
He bounces between needing complete silence, a specific noise, or an amount of noise that would overwhelm others constantly.
Vaggie
Vaggie is an autistic who has alexthymia.
She’s very monotoned and doesn’t know how to express her emotions because frankly, she doesn’t always know what they are.
It’s like there’s some disconnect between her thoughts and her body.
She’s not very good at articulating what she feels or connecting what her body is experiencing to her emotions.
She actually has a journal filled with bodily descriptions and how they connect to what she thinks she should be feeling. It helps her describe them to you better.
She doesn’t just have a disconnect with her feelings but her body as a whole.
She does not process things that should be painful as painful.
Her brain doesn’t always compute what signals her body is giving her so she can often forget to eat, drink, go to the bathroom, sleep.
She has certain rituals she does in order to try to connect better with her body and understand what it needs.
Every morning while she’s getting ready, she needs complete silence so she can connect.
She goes through the motions of brushing her hair and takes note of how it feels before and after. She does the same with brushing her teeth.
A couple times every day, she just has to stop everything, find a quiet place, and try to understand what her body is telling her.
Vox
Vox has the PDA profile of autism, is sensory seeking, and has OCD-like tendencies.
See Alastor, point 13 for definition of PDA.
His PDA comes up in a much more controlling way than Alastor’s. Or at least obviously controlling.
He needs everything to go a specific way and gets very disregulated when it doesn’t.
I feel like this also makes his RSD (rejection sensitivity dysphoria) worse.
Not only does he have the disappointment and feeling of failure when he is rejected or dismissed but he also has the emotional disregulation of his PDA which makes him feel like he’s been threatened and in danger to deal with on top of this.
His PDA often results in his use of manipulation and hypnosis over the general populace to ensure a favorable outcome for him.
If he is told to do something and there’s no way out of doing it, he will coerce the situation into something that at least feels like he has control over it.
However, if he does have a way out of it. He simply won’t do it or will purposefully do it wrong.
If you ask him to do something that he was already doing, he will walk away and come back to do it later when you’re gone.
His sensory seeking behavior is often like how we were introduced to him, plugging himself into his systems and being bombarded with the sounds of people.
He does this to regulate.
It’s cathartic to him in the same way blasting loud music when you’re upset is.
His main source of stimulation is through noise and sight.
He finds things like bright lights a calming thing as well.
He is a bit sensory avoidant though but it shows up very differently to Alastor’s.
It shows up in the form of constant cleanliness, yes, but Alastor finds cleanliness soft, unstained rugs and polished wooden desks whereas Vox finds it in a much more modern style.
Counters that don’t have a single finger print on them. Floors that are tile and shining, always looking freshly waxed.
Alastor’s version of clean is warm and homely. Vox’s version of clean is cold and slick.
This also plays into his OCD-like tendencies.
For Alastor it’s an annoyance when these things get out of place. For Vox it’ll ruin his entire day and he has to rearrange his schedule in order to fix it.
Another sensory experience he avoids would be strong smells. He cannot cope with them as they overwhelm him, along with taste.
His part of the tower is very pristine and actually very cold temperature wise not only because he enjoys colder temperatures but they also prevent him from overheating when he’s upset or just feeling strong emotions.
Going to the other parts of the tower are not something he enjoys.
Velvette’s normally smells of strong perfumes and Valentino’s smells of a combination of perfume and sex.
#vox x reader#hazbin vox x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer morningstar x reader#hazbin vaggie x reader#vaggie x reader
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“ITS BETTER WHEN HE’S ANGRY”
Okay this was my very first request and I’m still learning but hopefully this is ok. I was struggling a bit lol
@wifeofallfictionalmen, I am still learning to tag people and reply directly to messages but here we go
WORD COUNT: 2048
REQUEST: Heyy I hope your doing well I actually have a request for Reiner Braun. Sooo he just had a fight with the reader and he really is angry at her ( plus it is his season 4 personality) so to get Reiner's attention the reader suddenly seats on his lap but he just ignores her so the reader starts to grind herself on his lap and the rest you write and I also want the use of toy as a punishment for the reader ( the readers pronouns are she/ her)
A/N: use of nickname baby, female anatomy, Reiner x reader, angry sex, makeup sex, use of toys
ART CREDITS: @thisuserisangry
Reiner!” You yell out from behind him.
“No, y/n I don’t want to hear it!” He barked back, his anger rolling off of him in waves. You groan in frustration. Reiner has been on edge and it’s been causing a strain in your relationship. The constant shifting of personas does nothing but cause confusion in every conversation and no matter what you do, he will not allow himself to open up to you.
“I’m trying to protect you.” He says, using the same excuse which in turn agitates you because you can’t seem to understand why he won’t allow you to be there for him. This was the 5th fight this week and things didn’t seem to be getting better.
It was hard, you all have been together for so long but after everything happened, he changed. He has been way more reserved and gets upset at the smallest things. And intimacy levels have been through the floor. Of course it doesn’t help that your body has been screaming for release for days now but, you were trying to remain patient in hopes that you all could rekindle that flame. However, every time you think you’re both doing good, another fight breaks out and you’re back where you started. Lately it feels like things will never get better and honestly, you’ve reached your breaking point. Especially since that deep dark side of you gets so aroused every single time you see him angry. The heaviness of his breath. The way his nostrils flare. The hardening of his already sharpened features. It was tearing you apart from the inside out and enough was enough.
With a steady breath you make your way into the bedroom that you both share. He is sitting at his desk, his chin resting against one of his hands as he watches tv. He doesn’t bother to acknowledge you coming in so you use that to your advantage. Walking over to where he is sitting, you round the chair and stand in front of him. He hitched a brow at you but turned his gaze back towards the screen. You step in his view again which results in nothing but an eye roll and him sliding his chair over so he can see past you. You flare your nostrils in agitation and open your mouth to speak but he cuts you off.
“Please, y/n I’m not in the mood for another fight.” He grunted softly, not looking at you. You don’t respond, instead you step forward until your legs are touching the front of his. Then lifting your hand slowly, you run your fingers through his short blonde tresses, scratching his scalp softly. A small grumble of satisfaction leaves his lips as he tries to focus on the show. You continue to caress his head with your hands, watching the tension ease it’s way out of his shoulders. Then slowly you press your body closer. He glances from his peripheral and his golden eyes meet yours. You hold his stare as you straddle his legs, plopping right down on your favorite place that you haven’t been able to enjoy for far too long. He lets out a huff, shaking his head slightly before turning back to the screen in front of him. Annoyed at the lack of attention. You start to shift around on his lap slightly. He finally turns his gaze to you, his brows etched together.
“What are you-“ he started but you cut him off by pressing your hips down into him and rocking forward. He stilled at your movements, his mind trying to register what just occurred. You pressed down again, slightly harder rolling your hips into his once more. A heated gaze passed over his face as he released an involuntary groan. “y/n…” You continue to rock yourself against him, angling so that your clit is pressing into his crotch but you keep your eyes trained on his. He swallows hard as you feel him hardening beneath you. You continue to grind onto the top of his pants, the friction causing your pussy to swell slightly with pleasure. “Are you enjoying yourself?” His deep voice asked, coated with equal parts agitation and arousal. You don’t respond but continue to tease yourself against him.
“Ah, so that’s the game you want to play?” He said frustrated. His hands come up and grip your hips, stilling your movement. You let out a small hmp of frustration as you lose the momentum that was flowing through your body. “You think I’m going to let you use me as a pawn to get yourself off while you leave me angry and hard?” He asked, his brow hitching at you. You bite down on the inside of your lip, refusing to acknowledge him which only further drives his agitation.
“Fine, you want to be a brat then I’ll treat you like one.” He grumbled. He lifted you up swiftly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he carried you over to the bed. A surprised gasp escapes you as you're tossed onto the mattress. He hovers over you, chest rising and falling rapidly, those golden eyes burning into you. “Hands over your head. You move when I say move. Touch when I say you can. Don’t follow the rules and you know the consequences.” He whispered lowly in your ear, the deep commandments sending chills running down your spine. You do as you’re told, lifting your hands above your head. Reiner retreats from the bed and walks over to the dresser, unlocking it and pulling out the box of toys. Your toes curl in anticipation as he pulls out your favorite vibrator. He walks back over to you, your body splayed out against the bed.
“Don’t think you're getting off easy.” He said as he began to undress. You watch as he peels his shirt off exposing the sculpted body underneath. The sight of his smooth olive skin makes you want to run your tongue up his chest. You watch as his hands drop to his buttons and he takes his time undoing his pants. His print straining against his boxers makes your pussy flow with happiness. It has been so long.
He walks back to the bed and switches the vibrator on. “You know the rules of the game. 8 levels.” He stated. You make sure not to roll your eyes as he repeats the rules of the endurance game you always play together. “Level one” he says, lifting your gown and pressing the toy against your clit. The impact of the movement causes you to flinch just slightly as you adjust to it. Your body has been denied the feeling for so long that it has to get readjusted. Reiner drags the toy in slow clockwise circles against your clit, waking up the already sensitive bud. You focus on the sensation it was providing. “Mmm. Good girl.” He said softly but you manage to catch it. He slips your panties to the side and the toy slides in your opening. He thrusts once before pulling it out and turning up to level two. The game continues with each level as he circles the toy around your pussy and then fucks your opening by the number of levels. You are doing fine until level five. Your toes started to curl as you moaned softly. “Hmm, is your pussy aching to cum baby?” He teased, speeding up his movements. You stay quiet. “Oh, I see.” You could hear the smile in his voice. He once again slips your panties to the side as he slides the toy in your hole. Reiner takes his time with each hard thrust, the sounds of your arousal filling the room as it coated the toy. You felt your legs begin to shake, your body wanted to break. You just wanted to touch him and his teasing was going to break you.
“Rei, please.” You moaned, calling him by your pet name. “Awe baby. We haven’t even made it to level 8 and you’re already begging for my dick.” He teased again. He increased the level on the vibrator and pressed it firmly against your clit. “Oh fuck.” You let out, the intensity sending waves of heat through you. You lifted your hands from behind you and reached out to him. “Remember the rules. No hands. Punishment.” You groaned as you dropped your hands back. He slipped your soaking wet panties off. “Punishment level 6” he said. He slipped his fingers in your pussy and pressed up into your g spot. Then with the other hand he raised it slightly, before bringing it down right on your swollen clitoris. You gasped out in pain and pleasure. He brought his hand down onto your pussy again slightly harder than the last time and then a little harder with the next one. “Oh fuck Rei. Please baby.” You were teetering near the edge. “What is it baby? You want to cum, yeah? You want me buried deep in your tight little pussy? Is that it?” He asked. “Yes Reiner. Yes. I want you to fuck me please.” You let out. “Hmm. I love when you beg for it.” He grumbled in appreciation. He slipped his fingers out of me and pulled his boxers down, his dick springing from underneath the fabric.
“May I?” You ask. He nods. Your hands shoot from behind your head as you reach down to stroke him, coaxing out a bead of precum from his tip. He moans out your name as you have to use both hands, moving them up and down his full length. “Fuck y/n. I need to be inside of you now.” He growls. Reiner hitches his hands under your legs and pulls you closer. He lined up his tip with your entrance. “Tell me how you want it.” He demands. “Hard.” You let out. “Fuck yes.” He says and in one quick motion he slams his dick in between your folds. “FUCK” you cry out, your vision going blurry as his dick stretches your pussy. The pleasurable pain washing over you with familiarity. “Damn it y/n your pussy is squeezing me so tight.” He groans trying to pace himself. You are both reeling with pleasure. Reiner pulls out slightly before pushing his dick back inside, deeper and harder. He fucks you just how you like it as you hold onto his shoulders, your fingers nails leaving crescents in his back. He lifts your hips slightly so that he can push himself to stroke you deeper. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel the heat of your first orgasm taking over. “Reiner baby I’m going to cum. You’re going to make me cum!” You scream out. “Yes baby, cum for me.” he praised, his voice straining as he pounds into you relentlessly. His body glistened, sweat coating both of you as you get closer to your climax. “Rei, please. Don’t stop baby.” You beg. “You want me to fill you up baby?” He asks. I nod viciously, his muscles flexing as he drives you both over the edge. He lets out a deep roar as he releases inside of you, his seed coating your walls as a gush of fluids hits him, your body releasing at the same time.
You both sit there for a moment, catching your breath and coming down from your high. After your heart rate is back to normal, you look up to the man you love. His eyes already on you. “What?” You ask softly. “I love you, y/n. You know that?” He says softly. “Even when I make you mad?” “Especially when you make me mad, that way I can pour all my anger into that pretty pussy of yours.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You felt yourself throb at that idea. “Don’t even think about it.” He warned playfully. “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up. Then we can actually have a conversation about what happened earlier.” He suggested. You give him a small smile as he holds out his hands to you.
Reiner was a lot to handle some days but he was yours to handle, and you loved that for you.
#smut#reiner x reader#reiner braun#reiner smut#reiner aot#aot smut#aot x reader#aot x you#aot x y/n#reiner x y/n#nieceenotes
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Welp, I wasn't going to post today...but then I realized that the final chapter of Heart in the Well will go up before Sunday, and that'll render the excerpt I carefully picked out obsolete by then. So I scrambled to pick bits from my other stories just so I could post this one excerpt. Go me!
The good news about Heart being done? I've got a new WIP plotted out that I'm super excited about, but I wouldn't let myself write anything until one of my WIPs finished. So next week or the week after, you should see the first words from that fic, a very very angsty Watford era canon divergence.
In the mean time, thank you to : @monbons, @messofthejess, @rimeswithpurple, @thehoneyedhufflepuff, @best--dress,
@nausikaaa, @youarenevertooold, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @artsyunderstudy, @j-nipper-95, and
@facewithoutheart for the tags over the last two weeks. I'm having so much fun reading and watching your stories and art. This is such an incredibly talented fandom, it's endlessly inspiring. Plus, I get to meet some of you soon when I see Rainbow in August!
Here's my teasers for this week:
Here’s one from each of my official WIPs
From Saving Simon Snow:
I shake my head now, thinking about it. I’ll just have to keep close to Simon, or at least, as close as he’ll allow me. At least my vampire anatomy gives me an advantage there; I can listen to what’s happening with Simon from three rooms away (I won’t, unless it’s a matter of his safety. It’s a gross invasion of his privacy otherwise) (fortunately, I had to learn to tune out the chatter of my peers by my 2nd year at Watford, or I would have gone mad).
From the Heart in the Well
He looks back at me and then frowns. “Well, come on then,” he says, impatiently.
“Come on, what?” I say, exasperated. The water’s up to my breastbone now, and I’m starting to feel a little panicky, so my voice comes out higher pitched than I’d like.
Now, he rolls his eyes. “I need your tie,” he says as if it were obvious. It was not obvious. “Take it off, please.” At that, I shiver a little. I never thought there’d be a day where Simon Snow would be telling me to take off my clothes.
From Snow Fox: Penny, learning you can’t go home again (especially if you’ve signed on with the Snow Fox)
I step onto the road and walk briskly towards the house I grew up in. I can tell when I’ve been noticed. Several heads swivel my direction, and the murmur of conversation in the camp ceases. I keep on as if I haven’t noticed however. As I draw closer, I nod distractedly at some of the boys nearer to my path. They don't nod back. They’re watching me with narrowed eyes and I shudder internally. What do they see when they look at me?
From TikTok Dancer: Quite a bit racier than what I usually post, but still Tumblr legal, I think
Years from now, if I, for some odd reason, try to explain how my first time having sex felt, I won’t be able to. There’s no describing it. I’m planning to get a degree in words, for fuck’s sake, but right now, all language has left me, sailed back to England probably. I’m left with caveman grunts and desperate whines. Every particle of sensation in my body has gathered between my legs, and every atom of will I have left is devoted to an attempt to meld my body with his. I’ve almost succeeded–we’re nearly one creature now, moving in frantic, panting unison.
From Stars, Flowers, and Children,
I know he’s been looking for me. I know he’s probably forgiven my great sin. He shouldn’t. Forgiveness requires that the person who receives it is contrite, is sorry for what they’ve done.
I’m not sorry. I’d do it again today, if the circumstances were the same.
Even being estranged from the only person in this world that I care about is still better than the permanent separation that would result if we were rescued.
I believe that we’ll be friends again someday. Some day when the pain in my chest and stomach have dulled. And that day is worth waiting for.
From Cupid’s Shield:
I’m left gaping at where he just stood. It’s suddenly clear to me how much of his vampire abilities Baz has been hiding, because I was looking right at him.
I never saw him move.
All I know is suddenly he’s above me, and my arms are above my head and prisoned to the bed by his hands clamped around my wrists. I’m so stunned that I don’t even struggle.
His knees are on either side of my hips, and he’s staring down at me like I’m his next meal.
From my COBB project:
I know I should be worrying over tomorrow, and what my team will face out there. And I will be worrying over that—tomorrow. Tonight, I’m far more worried about the hours ahead. Hours of, once again, sharing a room with the only man I’ve ever loved. A man who’s never looked at me as anything other than a posh prick.
That’s my fault, of course. It could have been different, all those years ago, when we first met at Watford Uni. I was excited, back then, to meet my roommate. Excited, and nervous. I freely admit I’ve had a privileged upbringing, and this would be the first time I’d ever shared a room.
My childhood was mostly lonely, so I didn’t mind the idea. I’d thought it’d be nice to always have someone nearby to talk to.
Of course, everyone knows how that turned out.
As others have said recently, please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged and I'll take you off of my tag list. Unless I hear otherwise, I assume you're like me, and like to hear from people even if you're not feeling like sharing yourself.
Tags and cheers to: @chen-chen-chen-again-chen, @bazzybelle, @dragoneggos, @erzbethluna, @palimpsessed,
@frjsti, @fatalfangirl, @letraspal, @martsonmars, @melodysmash,
@moments-au-crayon22, @moodandmist, @mostlymaudlin, @onepintobean, @raenestee,
@tea-brigade, @upuntil6am, @whogaveyoupermission, @carryonsimoncarryonbaz, @krisrix,
@shemakesmeforget, @confused-bi-queer, @nightimedreamersghost, @thewholelemon, @angelsfalling16,
@noblecorgi, @hushed-chorus, @whatevertheweather, @ivelovedhimthroughworse, @mooncello,
@wellbelesbian, @ic3-que3n, @shrekgogurt, @cosmicalart, @cutestkilla,
@theearlgreymage, @alexalexinii, @prettygoododds, @blackberrysummerblog, @bookish-bogwitch,
@Iamamythologicalcreature, @emeryhall, @larkral, @ileadacharmedlife, @thewholelemon
#co/ws/awtwb#wip wednesday#snowbaz#simon snow series#carry on through the ages#cotta 2023#carry on reverse bang#egf 2024#forced marriage au#marooned on an island au#Dancer Simon! au
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hello iz ik it's such a cliche question and idk if you've already answered that but- how do you learnt drawing humans??? like everyone says practice but i don't know how and i struggle so much :( thanks already for answering!! i really really love your art
hi!
the very regulated, academic, objectively correct bs answer: learn the fundamentals, study and practice!
the unhinged, off-the-counter, cool uncle from your dad's side of the family answer:
Imo, the best way to learn how to draw on your own is to reference and study other people's art. There is no need for you to reinvent the wheel, and if you are a beginner and have no idea what you're doing, tackling multiple fundamentals at once can overwhelm and demotivate you quite a lot. So, for your morale and motivation, I think it is totally okay to just observe multiple artworks from multiple artists and engage with them critically ( * N.B. : artistS - plural; by referencing multiple works, you lower the risk of accidentally becoming a copycat or locking yourself into an art style that will never be as good as the original because it was not yours)
What I mean by critically engaging with an artwork is to analyze how they're tackling difficult body parts that you struggle with. For example, let's say you can't/don't know how to draw legs. Look at a picture of a real human leg, observe how someone else has simplified that leg form and anatomy, and then try to recreate it. Don't just copy their linework 1 to 1. That is not the point. Do it your own way, incorporate aspects of others' art that you like, and make them yours. You should have 5++ references of that leg from 5++ different artists. There are maany people out there who post their studies online, raw sketches or structural drawings (TB Choi comes to mind for example). Look for people like them, and if you can't find someone, then Pinterest is your bff. When learning how to draw, hunting the internet for how people sketch >>> rendered art. If speedpaints are more your thing, then youtube has you covered. Personally, I've learned more from a 20 min speedpaint with nightcore bgm and zero annotations from some guy that doesnt even speak english that has 300 views than I've learned from 10 min long art tutorials from fluent english speakers with 1 mil views. At the end of the day, we can yap and theorise as much as we want, but it's the act of drawing that brings results and seeing how other people draw is sometimes worth a thousand words.
> References in general also help a lot. I can't tell you how many times I was too lazy to look something up and spent 14235 hours trying to draw it off the top of my head only to have it done in 10 minutes once I finally gave in and pulled up a reference. So yeah, always use references. Don't be like me this is actually a bad habit
Okay, but how to /use/ that reference if you're a beginner? Very simple: draw on top of it ( *Do Not trace the outlines, that's pointless if you actually want to learn something). Draw guidelines over the body parts, deconstruct and simplify the ref into just boxes and lines ( always think in 3D ). This will help a lot with keeping the proportions in check. You can start by drawing those guidelines first and then get into details. Kinda like in sculpture: you start with a big block of a rock, and then you slowly carve and build form and then detail. The more you draw, the less you will need those guidelines as you get a feeling for the proportions yourself and will no longer need this step.
Once you become more confident in your skills or have a "sense" for drawing and you are in too deep to just give up after hitting your first wall, then you can tackle the scary intimidating stuff that is art fundamentals ( or you can do them simultaneously, all I'm trying to say is to never forget that you are not the only drawer in the world; looking in your neighbor's yard is totally okay within the reasons of common sense ). You don't have to raise and milk a cow it to make butter, you can just buy it from the store. If you want to bake a cake, a beginner chef will use store-bought cake mix because they have no idea how to cook. Once they learn the science behind baking (because it really is a science) they will buy their own ingredients and then improve or personalize the cake with better, well-researched ingredients, they will add their own twist, flavours, adjust the macros, perfect the technique and so on.
This is how I've personally learned how to draw by myself bc I'm self-taught and didn't care for formalities as it's just a hobby of mine that I do for fun. If you want proper advice you should probably listen to more qualified people but I can only preach what I practice.. Anywayssss hope it helped!!
#Believe it or not I've initially written out this super long answer but I realized it was too much and went off tangent#so this is a condensed version#i should tag art-related asks so you can find them better....#ok new art tips slash disscussion tag#ask iztea: art talk#ask iztea#i don't know why you'd ask me of all people for tips but#here are my two cents#i'm always hesitant with these things#i mainly focus on vibes and concept not accuracy
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I'm fucking tired
Oh mighty fucking bloody hell, when will I finally finish this damn sketch?? Or at least any of my sketches??? I am so frustrated right now that I don't want to draw anymore. For some reason, lately I don't like everything I draw, because my eyes are constantly irritated by the mistakes that are there, or as I am sure, are there. And although I try to redraw the sketch, the same mistakes remain or new ones appear.
I feel like I have constant problems with anatomy and proportions, so my body parts look different, like they don't belong to the same body. I'm so sick of it. I've never been so angry with myself and my drawings like I am right now. And because no matter how many times I redraw my sketches, I still don't like them, so I don't even want to finish them. I always need someone to tell me if I've drawn something good and correctly, because I'm never completely sure. So I would be REALLY REALLY happy if someone would tell me what I can do with this sketch, because I'm already going crazy! I would rather chew off my fingers, eat my stylus, and break my graphics tablet than finish this sketch, especially in a way that I like the end result.
I fucking hate drawing P3 Dude, what the hell, is he cursed?
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Art is NOT a talent. It's a skill.
Absolutely nobody picks up a pencil or paintbrush for the first time and creates a masterpiece.* Nobody is born automatically "talented."
*If you're trying out a new medium like say acrylic painting and have previously built up skill drawing with pencils there ARE transferable skills and some people can still make amazing artworks their first time but there is still a learning curve! Your mileage will just vary.
But so much of what we see online and in galleries and in textbooks is finished artwork from artists that have spent years or even decades developing their craft and their skills. It's not fair to compare beginner artwork to that but we do. It's easy to feel like some people are talented and some people aren't.
Image ID: A photo of The Starry Night painting by Vincent Van Gogh. The lower 1/3 of the painting depicts a small village. To the left is a large dark mass that stretches from the bottom of the canvas to the top. The sky is built out of thick black, blue and white brushstrokes that form swirling shapes. As well as yellow stars encircled by lighter brushstrokes and a big yellow crescent moon in the top right corner. End ID.
So how do we stay motivated to learn a skill when we don't feel talented?
Practice 1: Don't compare your work to anything else. This is ideal but really hard to do! Especially when the internet makes it so easy to access art from anywhere, anyone, and any time! And it's pretty impossible to go your whole life without interacting with art whether it's film, music, paintings, sculpture, posters, books, etc.
In practice this might mean going offline when you feel bad about your art or your work. It might mean avoiding engaging in art an hour or so before you begin work on something. Or avoiding the internet while you're working.
Practice 2: Compare your newer work to your older work. It can be really helpful to see how far you have come. But it can also still be frustrating if it's not at the level you want it to be. It can also be frustrating to see older work that's "better."
In practice this might mean keeping a folder or portfolio of work you are proud of that's easy to access whenever you need a boost of inspiration. You can also try sharing your work with friends and family if you can rely on them to express joy at seeing your work and lift your spirits when something doesn't turn out exactly as you wanted it to.
Side note: I have run into many cases on Tumblr where people say it's IMPOSSIBLE to get worse at your chosen craft. It's not. Skills aren't linear. If for any reason you have to take a break from your craft you will probably be rusty when you return to it. Sometimes trying something new with your craft won't have the results you want. And even if you practice every day and get really good at your craft, you're still human. Humans have bad days. It happens. But this is why even comparing yourself to your own art isn't perfect. (And if you are losing skills because of mental or physical health problems that can be uniquely frustrating but know that even if you can't create at the supposed "higher level" you were at before, any art you make is still wonderful and worth making and sharing!)
Practice 3: Seek out and enjoy different kinds of art! Seek out beginner art. Seek out different kinds of art!
In practice you can try following so-called amateur artists online with small follower counts and uplift each other in the comments. You can seek out new art forms and styles that don't meet the "perfect" or "highly talented" standards you set for yourself. (Hint: Linda Berry's art is great for this. She intentionally creates art the way a child might and has done small workshops at art schools demonstrating how freeing it can be to let go of notions of perfect anatomy, perfect proportion, etc).
I have one final thought:
Image ID: A sketch on what looks like a yellowed piece of paper. On the left is a building constructed out of simple rectangles. Extending from the right of it is a simple line for the horizon with a couple tiny triangles and half circles representing boats in water. There is a flat railing made of two horizontal lines and many small vertical lines in-between that divides the water and the land. Roughly sketched plants in a gated area beside it. And a simple lamp post extending from the bottom right of the page towards the top. End ID.
If this were hanging in a museum across from The Starry Night would you think it belongs there? Do you think the artist that made this drawing is less talented than the one that made The Starry Night? What if this artist kept drawing landscapes? What if this artist took up painting? What if this artist tried experimenting with colour? What if this artist experimented with brushstrokes? What if I told you that Van Gogh was the artist that made this sketch called View of Royal Road, Ramsgate in 1876, thirteen years before he painted The Starry Night?
You can visit this page to see hundreds of his early works if you don't believe me: https://www.wikiart.org/en/vincent-van-gogh/all-works#!#filterName:all-paintings-chronologically,resultType:masonry
Practice 4: Look up old works from your favourite artists if you can. What they created when they started will likely be much different from what they're known for. And it might be something easier for you to aim for if you wish to practice to create like them.
Everyone starts somewhere.
-
TLDR:
Art is NOT a talent. It’s a skill.
Nobody is born automatically “talented.”
It’s not fair to yourself to compare your work to finished artwork made by artists that have spent years developing your craft.
So instead:
Try hard not to compare yourself to others. Minimize how much or when you engage with other art if needed.
Remind yourself of work you’ve done that you love and how much you have learned and accomplished. Work to enjoy the process of creating more than the finished product.
Seek out different kinds of art that’s made by beginner artists or that doesn’t look “perfect”. You'll be less hard on yourself for not meeting unrealistic standards.
Take inspiration from your favourite artists but not just the work they’re known for. If you can, seek out their beginner, rougher work. Their work that you admire will seem much more possible when you can understand how they got there.
Everyone starts somewhere.
My hope is that my new blog @start-your-art will be a good resource for anyone looking to start or continue their art journey.
#art tips#artists on tumblr#art#art motivation#artblr#art resources#art tools#art inspiration#art resource#art journey#learning art#beginner artist#art guide#art help#art advice
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