#Muscles are hard to draw and I don't think I'm doing it exactly right

[maggazines-art]

[cherrybr4t]

mingyu and ab riding? God everytime I come back to the CK shoot another part of me diesss

no bc ure so real for this anon.. i stand and stare in awe every time i walk past calvin klein. 🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️🧎‍♀️‍➡️

mingyu and ab riding (+18, mdni)

WARNINGS: idol bf!mingyu (calvin klein mingyu) & non idol gf!reader, riding on mingyu's abs., praise (f rec), not much warnings tbh but! enjoy <3

—

it's no secret that your boyfriend is a total gym rat, and he takes absolute pride in maintaining his physique. you get reminded of it time after time - be it him walking around with just his sweats, or when he steps out of the shower with the towel barely hanging on his hips.

and tonight, you gawk at your boyfriend mid-netflix-watching when he steps into the bedroom with just his calvin klein boxers. he dries his hair with a towel and you salivate as you observe how his muscles tense with every moment he makes.

"god, is this the episode where yang leaves seattle?" he hops into bed; to be specific — on top of you, while you're on your belly re-watching grey's anatomy.

"i can't breathe gyu," you choke out as you feel yourself deflating into the mattress the longer your giant puppy of a boyfriend is perched on your back.

he rolls off to the side, sending you accusatory comments that you've just called him fat and that you don't love him anymore. to which you giggle and roll your eyes.

"dramatic much? sometimes you're like a fully grown dog who still thinks they're a puppy. you're not a lap dog gyu,"

he props his elbow up, turns to his side as his head leans on his hand — "nope, i refuse. i am your lap puppy,"

you get distracted once again by mingyu and the way his chest muscles tense and the way his abs contract while giggling.

"baby, why are you acting as if it's the first time you've seen me shirtless," mingyu smirks as he noticed how spaced out you've become, with your eyes darting around frantically his frame.

"are you ovulating?"

you snap out of it and smack him lightly on his chest.

"ow, i'm just asking.. based on my calendar and memory though, it does seem like it's about time,"

you drag a sigh out, fingers drawing out random figures on his abs.

"just amazed. how do you look exactly like all your pictorials — especially the calvin klein ones,"

mingyu giggles, little canines poking out while getting shy, "well, just giving you more bragging rights to all your friends baby,"

"yeah, cause it's all mine right? only i get to see and touch you for myself," you boldly brush your hands all over your boyfriends body, silently claiming the man as yours and only yours.

mingyu grabs your wrist halfway and pulls you in closer, "yeah baby, all yours to touch and play with, wanna see what else these muscles of mine can do?"

you giggle and nod as you look at your boyfriend through your lashes, the sultry atmosphere of the room seeping in.

he lies flat on his back and has you sat right on top of hips.

"remove your pants for me baby, and don't forget your panties too,"

you cock your head to the side, not sure what your boyfriend has up his sleeve but you abide by his instructions nonetheless. wiggling out of your night shorts and panties, you prop yourself up, straddled on your boyfriend's hips again.

"sit on my abs baby," you move up closer, bare cunt in contact with his defined muscles. he twitches the moment he feels your cunt already seeping juices onto his stomach.

"good girl, now make yourself cum with my abs," he crosses his arms behind his head, completely relaxed as he watches you intently; with a small smirk on that smug face of his.

"gotta mark your territory right baby? come on, you're not going anywhere til you've came on my abs,"

your cheeks radiate a certain tint of red as you feel both your cunt and and face getting warmer. you steady your thighs, before starting to move up and down the hard and textured abdominal muscles of your boyfriend.

"that's it, fuck baby you're fucking drenched," he peeks at his stomach, only to find his muscles glistening with all your juices.

you whimper, feeling encouraged by mingyu and his filthy words towards you. you were determined to paint every crevice of his muscles in your juices, your cum.

"f-feels good gyu," you balance yourself by grabbing onto his chest, allowing yourself to grind down on his abs with more pressure and at a quicker pace.

"yeah baby? you're doing so well, so desperate to cum for me aren't you," he groans and you feel his hard on start to poke at you from behind through his boxers.

you nod so fervently, feeling the pressure and ball constrict in your lower abdomen, like a tightening coil that's threatening to break loose any moment soon.

"i'm so close gyu — fuck, please please," your voice starts to crack as you feel yourself inching closer and closer towards that euphoric moment.

he reaches a hand towards you, creeping underneath your nightie to tug at your nipples. he plays with the soft fat around, before focusing on playing with your perked up and sensitive nipples.

"come on baby, give it to me — need to feel you cum all over me,"

"that's it baby i can tell you're right there, cum for me,"

with a few more encouragements from mingyu, you feel the knot start to unravel as you jerk uncontrollably on top of your boyfriend, breaking out in a string of moans that crescendoed, and shouting out your boyfriends name in cries.

you feel your boyfriend tense up under you, "so good - fuck baby, fuuuuuckkk" you feel a warm sensation through the stretch of his boxers.

as you came down from your high, you realised that you made your boyfriend come untouched.

"gyu did you...?"

"fuck...yeah baby... couldn't help it. you looked so fucking hot getting off like that right on top of me i-"

"shh shh" you smile, heart beaming with pride before leaning down on his chest.

—

a/n: soo.. ITS BEEN A LONG TIME ! but i'm sorta back. and with my current mingyu obsession, this ask couldn't have came at a better time! i hope you like it dear anon,, <3 muacks!!

[kiwriteswords]

She Gets the Job Done [Aaron Hotchner x Bratty!Reader]

Masterlist|| Ao3||Word Count: >2k|| AN: IF YALL KNOW ME YOU KNOW I DONT LOVE WRITING SMUT. BUT I'M OVULATING AND BEEN THINKING A LITTLE TOO HARD ABOUT HOTCH. Tags/Warnings: SMUT! MDNI! NSFW!! 18+, female reader, established relationship, bau!reader, pwp, p in v smut, no protection, no talk about protecting (just assume they've got this established!), fingering, brat tamer!Hotch, possessive!hotch, brat!reader, like no "after" scene really because I did not feel like it--lol. office sex!!, seducing an unsub in an interrogation, reader has hair Summary: When you decide to use an Unsub's weakness of being seduced by women to your advantage, it really pisses your boyfriend off.

Hotch’s jaw was tight, muscles strained beneath clenched teeth as he stood rigidly behind the one-way glass. The low hum of the fluorescent lights overhead seemed overly loud in the silent observation room, amplifying the palpable tension that had settled thickly in the air. 

Aaron Hotchner was rarely a man to lose his cool, but right now, he felt like a tightly coiled spring on the verge of snapping.

Through the glass, he watched you closely, noticing the slight, intentional sway of your hips as you circled the interrogation table. 

The unsub's eyes were fixated on you, tracking your every movement hungrily, the intensity in his gaze revolting yet exactly what you intended. 

You had unbuttoned your blouse just enough to draw attention, something that had not gone unnoticed by anyone on the team. 

Certainly not by Hotch.

The way your skirt rose up just a little too high. Or how you pressed your arms closer together, so your breasts stood right in the line of sight for the unsub. Your hair touseled in a way that only Hotch had seen--

In a way where you looked fulled fucked. 

You leaned forward slowly, palms flat against the cool metal surface, eyes locked onto the unsubs with a sultry, playful challenge. 

"Come on," you murmured, voice dripping honey, the seductive undertone unmistakable. "Don't you want to impress me? It'd be our little secret."

Hotch felt his chest tighten, his knuckles white as he squeezed his hands into fists. Rossi glanced sideways, clearing his throat uncomfortably, sensing the impending eruption.

"Hotch," Rossi began cautiously, "maybe we should—"

"No," Hotch cut him off sharply, eyes never leaving your form. He felt a fierce surge of possessiveness clawing at his throat, anger burning hot in his veins. He had agreed reluctantly to your tactic, trusting you implicitly, but this—

This was beyond the pale.

You laughed softly, a delicate sound that danced dangerously around the unsub. The man visibly shivered, eyes wide with anticipation, lips parted in silent surrender. "I'll tell you," the unsub breathed shakily, eyes greedily drinking in your appearance. "But what do I get in return?"

You tilted your head, gaze smoldering beneath lowered lashes. "You tell me first," you purred, leaning closer, deliberately letting your hair brush across his trembling fingers. 

Hotch’s heart hammered violently in his chest, his blood roaring in his ears as the unsub hungrily eyed you.

"He's going to break," Reid muttered quietly, visibly uneasy as he shifted his weight from foot to foot.

Hotch didn't respond. 

He couldn’t. 

His entire being was transfixed, paralyzed between the overwhelming urge to storm into the interrogation room and drag you away, and the knowledge that your tactics were working.

The unsub exhaled roughly, eyes glazed with desperation. "Fine," he gasped, chest heaving. "The body's behind the old warehouse on Elm—buried shallow."

A cruel smirk curled at the corners of your lips, eyes suddenly cold as you pulled away, straightening your posture and buttoning your blouse calmly as if nothing had transpired. 

"Thanks for the cooperation," you said coolly, every trace of seduction vanishing instantly.

Hotch felt a wave of relief, immediately drowned by a surge of anger-- 

Raw and primal. 

He turned sharply, stalking out of the observation room without a word. 

The sound of his shoes pounding harshly against the linoleum matched the racing of his heart.

Moments later, you stepped confidently from the interrogation room, smug satisfaction evident on your face until you caught sight of Hotch’s furious gaze pinned firmly upon you from down the hall. The arrogant smirk faltered briefly, replaced by a flicker of uncertainty as you squared your shoulders and approached him.

"My office. Now." His voice was dangerously soft, controlled with a rigid effort that barely concealed his simmering rage.

You lifted your chin defiantly, a hint of mischief playing in your eyes even now. "Is there a problem, Agent Hotchner?"

Hotch moved closer, invading your space, his presence dominating and overwhelming. His voice dropped lower, vibrating with intensity. "You know exactly what the problem is."

He turned sharply, leaving you standing in the hall, the air between you charged and crackling dangerously as he stalked toward his office, knowing you’d follow, knowing the line had just been irrevocably crossed.

Hotch’s jaw remained tightly set, his anger simmering beneath a mask of forced calm as he stalked into his office, the door closing behind him with a sharp click. 

He turned, arms crossed rigidly over his chest, watching you enter a moment later, defiance radiating from your posture. You stood before him, eyes flashing with an audacious mix of arrogance and curiosity, clearly unfazed by his obvious displeasure.

He moved forward deliberately, narrowing the distance until you were forced to tilt your chin upward to maintain eye contact. 

The air around you both crackled with charged intensity, tension thick enough to choke on. "Do you have any idea how reckless that was?" His voice was low, edged with barely restrained fury.

You tilted your head slightly, eyes dancing mischievously as you shrugged casually, playing off his anger. "I got results, didn't I? Isn’t that what matters most?"

Hotch leaned closer, his eyes dark and stormy. "What matters most is that you stay safe and professional. You compromised yourself—and us."

"I handled it," you replied boldly, leaning into him ever so slightly, the provocative gleam in your eyes unmistakable. "Maybe you're just jealous."

Hotch inhaled sharply, the vein in his neck visibly pulsing as he fought for control. His voice dropped lower, becoming dangerously quiet. "Jealouus? You deliberately let that monster think he had a chance with you."

You laughed softly, a wicked, bratty sound that tugged at something primal deep within him. Your voice dripped honeyed sarcasm, pushing every button he had. "Maybe you're just upset because he liked what he saw. Jealous someone else enjoyed the show?"

Hotch snapped, his large hand darting out swiftly to grip your waist, pulling you flush against his body with a force that drew a startled gasp from your lips. He bent down, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered harshly, voice trembling with intensity, "Say that again. I dare you."

You smirked, eyes blazing defiantly as you pressed closer, your voice dropping into a taunting whisper that brushed his skin like a forbidden caress. "Why don't you bend me over your desk and show me who I belong to?

He felt something snap inside him at your words, a powerful surge of possessiveness and raw desire flooding through his veins. He spun you around abruptly, pinning you against the edge of his desk, chest pressing firmly against your back, one strong arm holding your hips firmly in place. He leaned over you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his voice ragged and rough. "You think you can provoke me without consequences?"

Your breath hitched audibly, the arrogance melting into something softer, breathless anticipation trembling in your voice. "Maybe I like seeing how far I can push you."

Hotch's grip tightened possessively, voice thick with barely contained passion. "Then prepare yourself," he growled lowly, his control unraveling as he gave in to the powerful tension that had ignited between you both, fully intent on reminding you exactly who you belonged to.

His hands quickly found the edge of your skirt, pulling it up roughly to your waist. He felt your body shiver beneath his touch, your breathing quickening as he leaned closer, pressing a hot, open-mouthed kiss against your neck. 

His voice was a husky murmur, every word laced with possessive intensity. "You're mine. Never forget that."

You whimpered softly, leaning back into his touch, all traces of defiance giving way to desperate need. His hand slipped down your hips, fingers teasingly brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. 

You arched against him instinctively, desperate for more--

The tension between you reaching an explosive peak.

Hotch groaned lowly against your skin, guiding you firmly into position against his desk, one hand gripping your hip possessively while the other reached to loosen his belt impatiently. 

Your breath came in ragged gasps--

Anticipation nearly unbearable as he pressed himself against you, his voice commanding and darkly seductive as he whispered roughly, "I'll make sure you never doubt again who you belong to."

Had he locked the door? He wasn’t sure. But one moment he was pulling you into his office--

Filled with rage. Anger. Honestly, jealousy--

And now, he was stroking himself, pulling your lace panties to the side, finding you wet and ready after this little episode. 

He knew you liked to poke his buttons--

He knew this. 

He knew being a brat--

Being his brat…turned you on.

But what turned you on more was his visual reaction. And your actions sure as hell lead to a reaction from him.

He never thought of himself as a reactive man. His proud ability to remain stoic within even some of the most trying situations was a strength of his. But you? You with your whits and your body and your pure…pure seduction without even so much trying--

It had him whipped. Whipped in a way he couldn’t explain. 

Whipped in a way that has him fisting his cock with one hand and parting your wet, ready folds with the other. He slid his index finger in you--

Stretching you for him. The tight, wet, warm heat closed around the length of his finger. Practically sucking him in. 

He felt your hips stutter against his wrist.

Needy, needy girl, he thought. 

You mumbled something--

He thought it might be his name, but his heartbeat thud so heavily within his ears, he’s not sure what you said, if anything at all. 

It could have just been a whimper--

A sound he’d come to love so much.

Sure, he’d love you not always having to be such a defiant brat to get here. Yet, here you were. And as he stroked himself. Once. Twice. Three times more, he wasn’t complaining.

Not really. 

Removing his finger from you, he reached around to where your face layed pressed against the cool wooden desk. Papers sprawled out. Case files and budget reports mixed around. 

A clerical mess.

A human resource disaster. 

But pure nirvana to him as you knew to open your lips and taste yourself off his finger. 

Watching that, he bit back a groan as he teased your entrance with the tip of his cock. Up and down, teasing you. He planned to tease and use you. 

Just in the way you did with him today.

He entered you with a deep, assertive thrust, drawing a sharp gasp from your lips. Hotch’s movements were powerful and controlled, every stroke filled with possessive intent. 

His hand tangled in your hair, pulling your head back gently to expose your neck fully to his hot, demanding mouth. 

Every touch, every thrust, reinforced the undeniable truth of his words—

You belonged to him.

"Say it," he demanded roughly, breath warm against your skin, his pace relentless and passionate. "Tell me who you belong to."

"You," you breathed out shakily, your voice breaking under the weight of overwhelming pleasure. "Only you, Aaron."

"Good girl," he growled approvingly, his grip tightening as his movements quickened, driving you both toward a powerful climax, sealing his claim unmistakably and completely.

As the intensity peaked, your body trembled against his, both of you gasping as waves of pleasure crashedover you. Hotch held you tightly as you both gradually came down from the euphoric high, pressing gentle kisses against your shoulder, murmuring soothing words against your skin.

Slowly, he withdrew, carefully adjusting, reaching for a tissue--

Cleaning you with reverence and respect, then fixing your clothes with unexpected tenderness. 

He turned you gently, cupping your face in his hands, eyes filled with warmth and a fierce protectiveness. "Never again," he whispered softly, a plea and promise intertwined. "You mean too much to me."

You met his gaze, your defiance fully melted into sincerity and affection, nodding softly as you leaned into his gentle kiss, knowing you'd finally found your boundaries—

And exactly where you belonged.

[illusioncanthurtme--art]

This may be a silly question… but I’m an artist trying to learn backgrounds. I’ve studied perspective until my hands fell off, but I don’t know how to choose an angle or not make things look wonky. I’ve tried asking a lot of artists, but I’m hoping to hear more than “just draw backgrounds”, because I have been, but I’m not improving.

Do you have any tips on how to practice?

The anonymous ask is much more recent but it reminded me of another ask from @cerealssoggies i forgot to answer thats, OOF... gotten old. Sorry about that. I'll answer your ask more directly at the end of this.

I'll talk about the perspective ask first. Anon... I'll answer your question as best as I can!

I think what makes perspective tricky is the beginning, when you're using perspective lines and grids and such to map out the picture. Because the actual technique of 2 point perspective isn't hard or complicated, it's getting the scene to look the way it does in your head thats tricky. I'm talking about the metaphorical "camera" location, angle, and... idk, focal length? If I'm using that phrase correctly.

So you can draw something like a simple square bedroom, and by the time you're done placing your horizon line, vanishing point, and perspective lines, and actually start drawing, you realize it doesn't look like how it does in your head. And from there, it's hard or nearly impossible to move things around to look like your vision, so you'll be tweaking each thing individually: uhh, let's move the horizon line down, the left vanishing point further? The right one closer? Both further? Huh??? And it's frustrating.

I've found, if you're drawing an environment from your imagination, the best way to start is to draw an teeeeny tiny thumbnail sketch. The smaller the better. Not just environments, but any drawing idea is easier to map out when it's smaller. Your brain can latch onto the visual as a whole when it's all tiny on a piece of paper.

Drawing my current blog header, the one of ford's research tent, I had a similar pickle. I knew exactly where I wanted the camera to be, in the corner of the tent, and I knew I wanted the camera to be more wide, so you could see most of his tent while keeping the feeling that it's small. I started digitally with perspective lines and quickly got frustrated. SO - I took to my sketchbook and thought reeeeeally hard about what it looked like in my head, and tried mapping it out in a tiny tiny thumbnail. Here's what that looked like:

This was closer to what I wanted than what I first had on my computer. I knew from there that I wanted the furniture items to be closer together and the camera higher (you can see my scribble writing saying this), so I scanned my thumbnail, and drew on top of it to get closer to the vision. Then, from there, I was able to add a proper perspective grid based on what I had already drawn.

THEN you can finally get down to the fun part - actually populating your room with furniture and details. I put this sketch on paper and did most of the real drawing traditionally:

In summary: instead of jumping straight into perspective theory, thumbnail the idea as rough as you can. Then base the angles of the perspective lines on your thumbnail.

But.... even still, I don't have the strongest ability to picture things mentally, and not everyone is gonna be able to do that (although it is a good muscle to exercise.) Sort of a segue into the second ask - those backgrounds of dibs car? I straight up traced over pictures I took of my car. I'm not the biggest advocate for tracing, it does kind of feel like cheating, BUT for the purposes of this animation? There's no point in getting on a high horse. I needed to draw his car like 10 times and there was no reason to torture myself. I did photoshop some of the photos before I drew over them because the focal length made the car look bigger than I wanted it to? And a lot of it was guessing what the car looked like behind the front seats, etc.

But this does remind me of an exercise I did in school for an illustration mentorship class. The mentor for one unit was a set designer working for Netflix. She was given photos of a room that a scene would be shot in, and she drew the set on top of it: like furniture, decorations, etc. So my assignment was to choose a stock photo, and do some world building concept art based on the photo. From the photo, you can figure out the perspective by identifying lines/angles that theoretically lead to a vanishing point. You need at least two lines, and you extend them really far and see where they cross. Where they meet is a vanishing point. Find two vanishing points and they are level with the horizon line. Then use the perspective dots you just found to draw furniture, items, and you can even get creative and change the shape/height/size of the rooms/buildings/etc, while still using the same perspective.

If an image from the internet feels too much like cheating (it SHOULDN'T, you'll only learn from it and your drawing won't look anything like the image by the time you're done), you can always take your own photos. This technique is honestly what made me enjoy drawing backgrounds in the first place. It made it fun! And drawing should be fun.

I still do this sort of thing today. Here's the reference picture I had my sister take of me for my Fairy godmother illustration. (This is from a couple years ago.) I drew on top of it in photoshop to get my best guess as to the lines and angles. I didn't trace this one, but I did use it very heavily for reference!

So I guess... to summarize both techniques, don't jump right into perspective. Best way to start, that's fun and not wildly frustrating, is to use a photo. If your vision is hyper specific, start from a tiny thumbnail and work your way up. Then the fun part!! Populating the scene with furniture and items and fun little details.

To answer @cerealssoggies question more directly: omg, thank you?? :O💞 I'm always so wowed when people talk about my prints and where they put them. I'm really glad you like the fairy godmother one! My mom also has one hung up in her room lol!

My advice on the design front isn't as specific, because that always felt like the easy part. Once you have the room or whatever mapped out, it's just about drawing all the Stuff. Which for me usually means getting in the head of the character and asking myself what sort of things they'd have around themselves and their environment. And obviously if the setting isn't a characters room/personal environment like the previous three examples, then you'd just have to think about what the environments purpose is, and what sort of stuff would be there. When I'm thinking about a background before I draw it, I'll ask myself what items or features it will have. For the ford tent, I made a list of all the stuff I thought he might have in there (I googled winter camping trip packing lists, as well as science-y tools and gadgets). For dibs car, I asked people on tumblr for suggestions as to what I should put in there.

And look up references! Reference is always a good thing.

In real life, I'm a maximalist and a clutterbug. This bleeds into my drawings - I like it when an environment feels full and lived in.

Here's my bedroom lol.

WELL typing and compiling this took up a greater portion of my Friday but I really hope this was helpful to you and others!!

[scorpioriesling]

All the fourth wing males x reader maybe as a punishment for nearly getting herself killed or something but up to you

You're Pushing It

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Xaden x Liam x Garrick x Ridoc x Brennan x Dain x Bodhi x reader

Warning(s): implied smut

Summary: A series of one-shots for each character pertaining to their implied "punishment" for doing something that put you in danger.

SR’s Note: These aren't real spicy, but more of the lead up before the spice... thank you for the request, and I hope you absolutely <3 it!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus @freakishfandomfiend @lreadsstuff @desprrssooo-espresssooooo (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Xaden

"What in Malek's name were you doing?" He roared, following you as you stormed off toward your dorm. You huffed, not even wanting to respond.

"What I thought was right!" You shouted, not even turning to look back at him. Before you knew it, his hand was curling around your bicep, yanking you to look at him.

"You could've been killed, Y/N! Why didn't you-"

"Oh please," you rolled your eyes, reaching behind you to twist the doorknob. The door swing open, and you turned to strut inside. However, your boyfriend wasn't having any more of your attitude.

"Maybe you didn't hear me the first time," his voice came out in a growl as he grabbed both of your arms, shoving you against the back of the door hard enough for it to swing shut. Your breath caught in your throat as his grip tightened, and his lips tickled the shell of your ear.

"You. Could have. Been. Killed," he says slowly, his lips brushing the skin of your neck as he continued on. You let out a breath as his teeth softly bit the skin there, the sensation driving you wild.

"Keep up this attitude and I'll have to punish you more for it."

✧･ﾟ: *

Liam

Your boyfriend continued to lightly massage your back as you continued your recounting of events, though his kneads and presses were growing firmer.

"And you... didn't get hurt?"

You shook your head, though the motion was lost as you were in fact face down on his bed. He sighed, moving to the lower muscles on your back next.

"Y/N, I am really proud of you as a rider -- but don't you think going on these forbidden quests will, I don't know, get you in trouble?"

You laughed.

"I really do enjoy the quests, and besides; there's no punishment they could give me that I can't take."

Liam chuckled, his hands moving to grab and knead your ass. His fingers slid lower, rubbing near the most sensitive bundle of nerves below.

"I may have a punishment of my own that I'd like to watch you struggle to take."

✧･ﾟ: *

Garrick

Your boyfriend stalked slowly from one end of the room to the other, eyeing you as you continued your story. His gaze grew more and more lethal when you got to the most chaotic part; the part where you were put in true danger.

"And you're telling me this because... what? You want me pissed off?"

You huffed.

"No, Garrick -- I'm trying to tell you how I held my own. Why can't you see that I'm just trying to-"

He crossed the room in an instant, pushing you back on the bed and lacing his fingers with yours above your head. You squeaked in surprise, and you watched as his gaze darkened.

"No, what you need to understand is that this is exactly what gets me mad," he says lowly, his lips merely ghosting over yours. "You putting yourself in risky situations like that is... just plain ridiculous."

You frowned.

"I did it for everyone's gain-"

He dipped his head, smashing a bruising kiss to your lips. He yanked away seconds later, opening the nightstand draw in favor of the silk ties you kept for... well...

"Big mistake," he said, taking your wrists again in his hands. He pulled you to the headboard, making quick of tying the ribbons around the metal and securing your arms above you. "Hopefully it's one you'll learn from."

✧･ﾟ: *

Ridoc

"This isn't funny, Y/N. Do I look like I'm laughing?"

You rolled your eyes and giggled, trying to take your jokester of a boyfriend's expression seriously.

"No, not yet," you grinned. "But come on, Ridoc, you're always laughing!"

His nostrils flared as he stared at you.

"Not about this, Y/N."

You waved him off, making for your vanity to brush out your hair. Sure, did you put yourself in a dangerous situation? Yes. But did your boyfriend need to make a big deal about it? Hell no!

In seconds he appeared behind you, his hands palming your waist and turning you to face him. He lifted you swiftly atop the wooden desk, and your ass hit the surface with a rather harsh landing.

"Ridoc-"

"You just don't get it, do you." His words were low in tone, the anger finally creeping in. Your eyes widened as one hand gripped your butt, the other coming to shove beneath your waistband. You groaned as his fingers dipped below your panties, finding you already ready for him.

"If you're so tough, you can handle a punishment, right?"

✧･ﾟ: *

Brennan

He stood immediately as you entered the office, an armed guard tugging you forward through the doorway. You glared at the metal-faced male, showing all signs of frustration with the situation you'd been put in.

Before you can speak, the soldier opens his mouth.

"Caught her just beyond the borders, sir," he says, holding your arm steadfast despite your wiggling. "She was in bad shape when we got her."

Brennan sighs, an impassive look flashing across his face. "Did she have her dragon with her?"

"N-no, sir."

He looked down, quiet fury raging in his eyes. When he looked up again, he only looked at the nobleman. "Release her, please. I'll take it from here."

You opened your mouth to protest when the guard let go, at least try and defend yourself. However, the guard exited the room and Brennan didn't let you get a word in.

"Bren, you have to understand-"

"I don't want to hear it."

You flinched, your brows knitting in confusion. "Brennan, seriously-"

"You knew the orders, and you disobeyed them anyway." He laced his fingers, pressing his pointer fingers to his temple. "You know you're in deep for this one."

You rolled your eyes as he sat again behind his desk. "Okay, first of all, I'm perfectly capable of speaking for myself, thank you-"

"Close that mouth, and get over here."

Your brows rose as you stepped forward, not daring to disobey again. Although the usual punishment from your boyfriend was far from "bad"...

"Bend over."

You did as instructed, getting to your knees and lying your torso over his legs. He yanked down your leather pants, pulling them to your knees before smoothing a hand over your ass.

"You've been a bad girl, Y/N -- and crimes cannot go unpunished."

✧･ﾟ: *

Dain

"I was jsut doing what was right," you griped, your hands on your hips. "You surely weren't going to help them."

Dain glared at you, mirroring your stature.

"Yeah, I wasn't -- sorry I have a girlfriend I want to come home to at the end of the day." He shrugged. "I prefer that than risking my life on a death wish mission, thank you very much."

You laughed humorlessly at his admission.

"You'd let all of them die!" You shouted, the wind whipping across the flight field drowning out your words. "You should've gone with me, Dain -- you are the Wingleader, aren't you?"

In an instant, your boyfriend was before you, his dominant hand wrappedlightly around your throat.

"You watch it, now," he warned, his gaze drifting to your lips for a fraction of a second. You glared furiously up at him, but he still pulled you in for a quick, bruising kiss nonetheless.

"How you speak to your Wingleader will effect how much he will punish you later for it."

✧･ﾟ: *

Bodhi

"So what," your boyfriend panted, punching at the bag before him. "You figured involving yourself in that type of situation was the best course of action?"

You shrugged as you leaned against the wall, watching your boyfriend's hits get harder and harder.

"Yeah, I mean -- we came out sucessful, didn't we?"

Bodhi's punches halted as a humorless laugh tumbled from his lips. His hands rest on his hips as he looked down, shaking his head slowly.

"You're impossible." He said, looking up at you again. Your brows narrowed.

"C'mon, you know it was the right thing to do," you reasoned, making way for the mat to begin stretching. You'd just gotten down on all fours when Bodhi's body heat became present behind you, his pelvis pressing into your ass.

"The right thing to do, huh?" He tsked, his hands grabbing your hips.

"The right thing to do is to listen to me when I tell you it's too dangerous. Since you can't seem to remember that, maybe you need a little reminder."

✧･ﾟ: *

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (21/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The truth comes under purple skies.

Warnings: angst, but mostly tooth rotting fluff because you deserve it

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

previous part

A/N: a little late happy birthday to me! sorry for the wait. I love you.

Although you keep your eyes closed, you know that it is still dark outside.

The air in the room is cool against your face, while your tired body is kept comfortably warm under the heavy comforter. It is just as warm against the free, uncovered parts of your body as Charles' soft skin.

His arm is wrapped around your middle, his fingers are tightly intertwined with yours and his thumb strokes gentle circles over your hand. A tender, loving gesture that you're not sure whether it's meant to calm your nerves or his own. 

You haven't changed your positions in bed since you fell asleep pressed tightly together a few hours ago. Charles's chest is still pressed against your back and if you were to focus on it, you could certainly feel his heart beating hard and steady. But you don't. Your thoughts revolve around breathing as normally as possible so that it still looks like you're asleep. 

You don't want to be awake. 

Being awake would involve thinking, and you definitely don't want to think about the last few days. You don't want to think about how Charles told you that you would jump into bed with Lando at the next opportunity. You don't want to think about Raphael coming to your front door last night and calling you a whore. And you don't want to be reminded that Charles jumped to your side and defended you without so much as batting an eye.

All you want right now is to lie here, in his strong arms, wrapped in his scent and warmth. Deep down, you know you can't be angry with him. Lando's words flit through your head again and again about how you both want to protect each other, and even though you've only known each other for a few days, you can tell Charles so well that it's exactly this part of him that makes him who he is.

But you still don't know why he treated you like that.

You breathe in deeply, take in his scent - a mixture of sandalwood, peppermint and a smell that you can only describe as Charles - and press your face into the soft pillow. Although you had been furious with him, you had missed his closeness over the last few days. 

The thumb that has been tenderly drawing figures on your hand pauses.

"I'm sorry." Charles' voice is little more than a whisper against your shoulder blade. As his warm breath brushes over you, your muscles tighten. "No apology in this world can make up for what I did to you. I betrayed your trust, hurt you, and left you thinking I didn't care about you." When you don't answer him, he continues. "I am so incredibly sorry. And I won't ask for your forgiveness or kindness, because I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you. And I'm sorry I couldn't be better for you."

Your heart beats so fast against your ribcage that you fear it will break your bones and jump out of your chest. His touch feels like your skin is burning. When you open your eyes, you see purple clouds in the morning sky through the window. 

Carefully, you turn in his arms, whereupon his embrace loosens a little, but his arm remains on your hip. His eyes are closed, as if he doesn't dare to look into your face. His eyebrows are furrowed and there are a few wrinkles between them that you would love to smooth out with your fingers.

You decide to run your fingers over his bare shoulders. His muscles twitch under your fingertips. "Why did you do it?" Charles remains silent, so you tentatively place your hand against his cheek. You feel his stubble scratch your skin as he exhales deeply, as if he hasn't taken a decent breath in a long time.

He opens his eyes and there is an anxious gleam in the otherwise beautiful green. His gaze searches yours as he nuzzles his face against your hand. "I was jealous."

Jealous?

A small glimmer of hope flares up inside you. Maybe everything you've experienced together - the viewpoint, your movie night, the bookstore, the tiramisu - is based on something other than friendship. On something more. Maybe there was more to every conversation, every look and every smile than just the friendship you nailed down to protect your heart. Maybe you were just talking past each other the whole time. Maybe –

"I was jealous of how well you got on with Lando. I thought that if you got to know each other better and became more than just friends, then we wouldn't be friends anymore. I thought -" He pauses for a moment. "I couldn't bear it if I lost you because of your relationship."

You try to suppress the punch in the pit of your stomach and swallow the frog in your throat. "You hurt me and pushed me away because you didn't want to get hurt yourself?" Your heart breaks a little for him. You finally smooth out the wrinkles between his eyebrows with your thumb. His arm wraps around you tighter and presses you together. His fingers stroke your back and goose bumps spread across your body. 

That's exactly what Lando said. That Charles pushes the people he cares about away to protect himself. Something you can well understand, after all, you were planning to do the same to him. Only not so drastically. 

But Lando also told you something else about the Monegasque. "But that's not all, is it?" An image flickers in your mind's eye of Raphael holding out his hand to introduce himself to Charles. "You didn't just want to protect yourself. Or am I wrong, Charles Leclerc?"

As you say his name, a shiver jerks through his body, as if he's suddenly cold, and his hand freezes against your spine. "You're not." His tone is cooler, more distant than it was a few moments ago, and the tension in the room is palpable despite the purple clouds and morning calm as you place your hand on his bare chest. His heart is beating fast and strong.

"I - I think we both rushed into this friendship far too quickly." You try to put as much warmth into your whisper as you can, even though deep down your heart has caught quite a tear. "We've known each other for five days. And so much has happened in that time that takes some friends years. Our trust in each other went from zero to one hundred." You run your finger over his collarbone, your gaze following him.

Panting, he sucks air into his lungs at your touch. "What do you suggest?"

You purse your lips. "Maybe - maybe we should get to know each other better first. Get to know each other properly so that this doesn't happen again. So that our living together is easier."

Charles tightens his grip around your middle, his legs tangle with yours. "Living together? Does that mean you're staying with me?"

You nod slightly, but grab your arm with your hand to pull away from him. Something flits across his face, but as quickly as it came, it's gone again as you place his hand between your faces on the pillows. "But maybe a little distance will do us good. So we don't mess this up."

His fingers interlace with yours. "I'll do everything I can to make this work."

"That makes two of us," you smile, missing his touch on your body. You miss the warmth pulsing through your veins under your skin. But it's the right thing to do. At least that's what you try to tell yourself. You take a deep breath. "I - I'm unemployed, by the way." You look down at your hands. "I was fired from this magazine before we met. I'm looking for a new job so that I can continue to live in Monaco, because my savings won't last forever. That's why I'm so grateful to you for standing up for me with Joris. About the rent. I can't thank you enough for that."

"But you don't have to," he replies quietly. "Friends help each other. They're there for each other. I can understand why you didn't tell me. Nobody likes to talk about the fact that they've recently lost their job." 

"Thank you," you whisper back. You feel a weight fall from your shoulders. You suddenly find it easier to breathe. But now it's something else that's plaguing your thoughts.

And no one but Charles can give you the answer. "Can you please explain to me what happened yesterday? With - with Raphael?"

The Monegasque briefly lets go of your hand so that he can play with your fingers. He doesn't look at you. "Do you remember the night we watched Cars together?"

You nod. How could you forget that night? The wine, the movie, the flirting that apparently wasn't flirting. Ouch. 

"We talked about Formula One and how you used to watch it with your grandfather when Michael Schuhmacher drove for Ferrari." His gaze is literally glued to your fingers. "When we first met, I told you that my work had something to do with cars, and I wasn't lying."

You raise an eyebrow in confusion. If he's a mechanic or engineer for one of the racing teams, that woiuld explain why he has to travel so much for work. "Is that where all the cool photos on your phone come from? Because you fly across the globe with Formula 1 to work on the cars?"

Your flatmate purses his lips. "I don't work on the cars. I - I drive them." He licks his lips once. "I'm a Formula One driver for Scuderia Ferrari."

"Don't fuck with me," you reply, wanting to pull your fingers out of his grasp. But he holds on to them and when he lifts his gaze and looks you in the eyes, you know he's telling the truth. And his confession makes you see the last few days from a different perspective. 

The conversation between Charles and Joris, shortly after he suddenly appeared in the apartment, pops up in your mind. "When we met, that night - you were on the phone with Joris. You said something about headlines."

He nods slightly. "A few weeks ago, the season ended and Annika and I broke up. I stayed away from here as long as I could because I didn't want to be confronted with it. And when I got to my apartment for emergencies, there you were. With a valid tenancy agreement. I couldn't just throw you out the door. You could have gone public and then it would have made the headlines. Something like "Charles Leclerc throws poor woman out of rented apartment". It was a risk I couldn't take." He furrows his eyebrows again, but this time you hold back.

"You have a nutritionist."

Again he nods. "For the races, I have to follow a strict diet to make the car go faster. Unfortunately, pasta and thick sandwiches aren't part of it, so please don't tell him." 

Fragments of the last few days appear one after the other in your mind's eye, which you try to sort out and work through. "The bistro you went to after the bookshop had already closed, hadn't it?"

"Yes. But when do you ever have a Formula One driver on your doorstep who needs two sandwiches?" He shrugs. "One photo and we've had our dinner."

You lick your tongue over your lips and you don't miss the way Charles' eyes twitch to your mouth. "We went everywhere in my car. Why?"

"You've seen my car." He's referring to the fancy Ferrari in the parking garage. "With its stripes, it's not exactly inconspicuous. Especially since everyone knows the car is mine." He runs his thumb over the side of your index finger. "As soon as the car rolls down the street, everyone knows it's me. And everyone takes photos of it. I couldn't risk you getting caught up in all this because of a stupid car. And especially not because you couldn't choose it until now. Your sweet tin can was the only way we could get around the city together without attracting attention."

You clench your jaw. "The meetings in Italy. What about it?"

"The headquarters are there, in Maranello. Before the winter break, the team wanted to get together again and discuss what went wrong this season and what we can improve."

"And you could just leave like that?" you ask him.

He shakes his head. "Not really. But in my opinion, there wasn't much to talk about either. The season was a throwaway." He shrugs his shoulders. "I was actually a little relieved when Lando called and asked me to go home."

So you were right. The Brit did call Charles. "And what did he say?" 

"Exactly what I needed to hear." He smiles slightly. "He threw a lot of swear words at me and made it clear that I'd be the stupidest idiot in the world if I screwed up this friendship."

You don't know what to do with this information. The fact that Lando called Charles and made a slug out of him doesn't bother you much, because the Monegasque needed the push. But there's also something about the fact that Charles didn't come up with the idea of straightening things out himself. That one of his friends had to step in for you first so that he would get off his butt and stand up for this friendship. That Lando -

"What about Lando? And Pierre? And Kika? Are they part of Formula One too?"

Charles purses his lips into a thin line. "Lando and Pierre are also drivers. Kika is a model."

Bile rises in your gullet as you release your hand from his and turn onto your back, closing your eyes. Everyone knew, they even work in the same field, and no one thought to let you in on it. The whole thing could have gone down the drain. People could have recognized you both, taken photos of you and spread the word. 

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I -" Charles exhales. "I was just scared."

"Scared? Of what?"

"My job - my name - brings a lot with it. A lot of good things, like seeing the world, getting to know cultures and not having to worry about things like money. But there are also negative things, like a lot of pressure, fake friends, no privacy." He also turns onto his back. "I don't want you to choose something you don't want because of my name. I thought - I thought if we stayed in our little bubble, our little world, that - I don't know. It was just nice to have someone as a friend who wanted to be friends with me because I'm Charles. And not because I'm Charles Leclerc."

You have to smile. "Actually, I'm only friends with you so that I can live with you and save on rent."

"Haha."

You clasp your hands behind your head. "I can understand, I think. That you have to be careful who you surround yourself with. And that there are a lot of people who only use you because you're you. It sounds very lonely."

Charles snorts softly. "It can definitely be lonely."

"Then let me assure you that I don't want to be friends with you because of your money or your name." 

"But?"

"Do you really need reasons?"

"It certainly wouldn't hurt my ego," you can practically hear his grin. 

"All right," you reply. "I want to be friends with you because you're kind and considerate of your friends' feelings. Because you trusted me with your favorite place, even though you didn't know me. Because you introduced me to your friends because you thought it was inevitable anyway if our friendship strengthened." You take a deep breath and exhale. "I want to be friends with you because you're funny and make me laugh. Because you have a big heart. Because -" 

A feeling bubbles up inside you. You've felt it before - the day after your movie night, when you were reviewing the evening. In the not entirely innocent dream you had about Charles. And when you shared the bed after the bookshop.

It's warm, like a warm blanket, strong like a good hug and bright like Charles' eyes when the sun shines on his face. Charles is not just your roommate. Or your friend. Charles is so much more. Charles is your home.

Before you can complete the sentence, the Monegasque interrupts you. "That's good. That's good enough for me, thank you." He smiles. "It's nice to have you as a friend. Even if I don't deserve it, the way I've treated you."

"Mm-hmm." 

"Maybe you should sleep on it one more night and then decide if you really want it. There's so much more that comes with a friendship with me." When you yawn, he has to laugh. "You see? Maybe you're not even able to think straight right now. And then I push you into a friendship that you don't even want."

"I'm sure," you reply tiredly and you notice how your eyes get heavier. 

"But -"

Before he can finish his sentence, you reach for his hand and interlace his fingers with yours. You try to ignore the fact that this makes your heart beat faster. "I'm sure of it. Believe me." 

When you gently squeeze his fingers twice, he replies with the same gesture. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Then it's a good thing you don't have to find out," you smile and as you yawn again, Charles pulls you closer to him. Like a magnet, you slide across the bed towards him, unable to resist as your face finds its place against the crook of his neck. 

He lets go of your hand, but only to wrap his arm around you. His hand rests on the bare skin of your hip, while his other hand pulls your leg over him so that you're half lying on top of him. You are enveloped by him, fully and completely, and as you place your hand on his bare chest, you feel his heartbeat under your fingertips. 

You try to convince yourself that it's not beating for you, but as you snuggle even closer to him and your lips touch the soft skin on his neck, you feel it skip a beat. But maybe you're just imagining it. 

"I'll be better from now on," he whispers and tentatively presses a kiss to your forehead. Goosebumps spread all over your body, but not because you're cold like he thinks, which is why his arm presses you even tighter against him. "I don't want there to be another moment when you doubt how important you are to me, mon amour."

"You can teach me a little French," you reply. "Then you can hide less from me if I speak your mother tongue too," you joke. 

Charles feels your smile on his neck and he is glad that you can't see the blush on his face. 

"Anything you want. I'll go to the other side of the world for you if I have to."

"But not until tomorrow, all right?" You gently caress his chest with your fingertips and Charles draws in a sharp breath. "Now it's time to sleep. And don't you dare steal my blanket in the night."

Charles would love to pull you on top of him, kiss you and promise you that you're safe with him and that he won't let anything happen to you. But he holds back, just lets his fingers dance over your skin. 

He promises in the purple morning light. "Deal."

next part

[becca-e-barnes]

all i can think about is bucky literally BEGGING to eat your pussy. just on his knees, calling himself a needy slut, just looking up at you with puppy dog eyes while he just begs for your pussy on his mouth. ugh.

Men who are this into eating pussy have a special place reserved for them in Heaven. Hearing someone beg to go down on you is life changing when they know what they're doing 🙈

But you're so right, Bucky would be so willing to degrade himself like that just to be allowed to go down on you. He'd be on his knees, trying to ignore how full his balls feel, begging for you.

"P-please." His voice is so quiet you almost start to question if he said it intentionally. "I need to taste you. I can't think about anything else."

His cock twitches despite how heavy it looks, flushed and angry against the pale skin of his thighs.

"Really?" You tease, tilting his chin up with two fingers so he's looking at your face, rather than your body. "Tell me exactly what you're thinking. Describe it to me"

He doesn't miss a beat. "I'm thinking about how soft you are, how warm and silky your cunt feels under my tongue. I'm thinking about burying my tongue as deep inside you as I can reach and still wishing I could get deeper. I want to feel how wet you are but more than anything, I want to taste how wet you are. I want to dream about it for the rest of the week. Every time I stroke my cock I want to be able to remember how you taste."

Precum drips from his tip and you're not sure you can deny him much longer. Not when he's making it sound so appealing.

"Do you even hear yourself?" You do your very best to act like you don't love the sound of every word that has just come out of his mouth.

"I do. I sound like a shameless, filthy, desperate slut. The type of slut who wants to kiss and lick and worship your sweet pussy until you're so sensitive you have to force me to stop." His hand wanders between his own legs, tugging his stiff length to the mere thought.

He's not above begging and you know that. He'll draw this out as long as he needs to until he gets his way but there's very little sense in that when you want this just as much as he does.

"Lie on the bed." You give him time to make his way over before following, lining yourself up just above his face.

You take a second to smooth his hair, enjoying the feeling of his freshly shaved face against the sensitive insides of your thighs.

He's looking up at you, your eyes meeting his. "Thank you." The relief in his voice is clear right before he grasps your hips and pulls you down onto his mouth.

Fuck, he's incredible. This is the mouth you dream about when you're alone. His tongue massages your clit, stroking back and forth before dipping into your fluttering entrance. You swear he must feel what he's doing to you. You feel your cunt clenching and rippling, your muscles contracting in response to the pleasure and for a second you wonder if he can tell.

He's hungry for this; he has been for hours. He's moaning and slurping obscenely, his tongue buried in your cunt. You don't even need to look over your shoulder to know that he's alternating between fucking his own fist and gripping the base of his shaft tight enough to stop him from spilling his release all over himself too soon.

It's very hard to tell which of you enjoys this more.

[gam3r-girli3]

❛ common interest ❜

"Oh look," Tilly announces, drawing the attention of the other two women. "Here she comes, back into camp."

Karen follows Tilly's gaze and rolls her eyes in distaste. "The Ice Queen herself."

Mary-Beth, who'd had her head buried in a book - sneaking in a few minutes of reading when Grimshaw was off doing something else instead of barking orders at them - looked up with a frown. "That ain't right, Karen. She's just not overly talkative, that's all."

"'Not overly talkative'?" echoes Karen in disbelief. "I don't think I even heard her speak once!"

"Maybe she can't," Mary-Beth suggests empathetically.

Tilly shakes her head, disagreeing. "I seen her over with the horses a few times. Heard her speaking to them."

Karen snorts. "So she can talk to horses but not people? What a freak."

"Karen!" Mary-Beth scolds, glaring disapprovingly at the other woman.

"What? It ain't normal, is all I'm sayin'. Preferring the company of damn horses to people. It ain't right."

Unbeknownst to the three women, chatting away about you, there was another set of ears nearby taking it all in.

Kieran Duffy had been tied to this tree for the better part of a goddamn week. It sure felt longer, with the way his muscles burned from being forced to stay standing on account of the ropes around him and the way his empty stomach ached with a gnawing hunger so consuming that even the dirt was beginning to look appetising.

For the most part, he pleaded with anyone passing by, begging to be set free, or just some water and food. One girl, the younger one - Tilly, he believed her name was - had listened and given him a sip of water, which he'd drank with such euphoria he had to hold back a moan.

The other woman, the one with her head buried in a book half the time when she weren't doing chores - Mary something or other - had quietly come to him when it was dark and fed him a few spoonfuls of their usual stew the camp cook makes for their dinner every evening.

It tasted almost as good as it smelled, and Kieran would know exactly how it smelled because the cruel bastards had tied him to the tree right beside the food wagon to watch as they got their dinner each evening.

Not many other people talked to him or even paid him much attention, other than the men who glared at him with murder in their eyes.

Didn't seem to matter how much he swore he weren't an O'Driscoll. He might as well have been trying to convince them the sky was purple instead of blue. They were convinced he was the enemy, an outsider, and they sure as shit treated him like one.

When the three women gathered near enough that Kieran could overhear them gossiping, he listened eagerly. It wasn't often he could listen in on a conversation to take his mind away from the constant pangs of pain and hunger.

His eyes found the one they were talking about, the one they referred to as the 'Ice Queen'. He weren't quite sure what that meant exactly but he presumed from the rest of the conversation that you didn't mix well with folk here.

You were over by the horses, going from animal to animal, stroking their manes, brushing out their coats, sneaking them some treats of apples and carrots and whatnot. From this distance it was hard to tell but he thought he could just about make out your mouth moving as you spoke to the horses.

If he hadn't been tied to a tree for days on end, left to starve and dehydrate, he would've found the sight a lot more endearing. As it was, he didn't have much energy left for endearing.

So he simply filed the information away for later, if there would be a later provided the men of the gang didn't carve him up and add him to the goddamn stew.

The thought caused him to grimace.

Fortunately, they didn't kill him.

Once Kieran led them to where some of the O'Driscolls were hiding out (after they'd threatened to castrate him, mind you) and he'd saved the life of the feller called Arthur, they'd taken a slightly more kinder approach to him.

Even let him stay with them after he'd argued he had nowhere else to go. If he left, Colm and his boys would surely catch up with him and kill him for squealing.

Even though the Van der Linde gang hadn't treated him all too kindly, staying with them was his best option for survival.

They didn't fully trust him enough to let him in on any robberies and schemes, which suited Kieran just fine. He found himself gravitating towards the horses, a natural instinct for him.

He'd always loved horses, even when he was riding with the O'Driscolls he'd look after all the horses and make sure they were fed, clean and healthy. The only reason Kieran figured they hadn't cut him loose back then was because he'd taken such good care of their steeds.

Kieran ran a hand over the smooth coat of a Blood Bay Thoroughbred, admiring the glossy red colour. It was a beautiful mare, calm and friendly, and it seemed to take him to him fairly quick in comparison to the other horses.

Dutch's horse, the Count, had kicked him when he wasn't careful enough and even tried to nip at him a few times.

"Yeah, you're a good girl, ain't ya?" Kieran murmured to the horse, feeding it an apple. "A lot nicer than that nasty Count, that's for damn sure."

The sound of a twig snapping from behind made him freeze and whirl around, expecting to be met by one of the male members of the gang glaring at him. Instinctively, his hands twitched to cover his crotch.

But it wasn't a man.

"O-oh," Kieran stuttered, visibly surprised (and a little more than relieved). He quickly took his hands off his crotch. "Um...hi."

You blinked, face impassive.

Kieran gulped, feeling his nerves grow under your steady, stoic gaze. "U-um, it's Kieran. I - I mean, that's my name, is, uh, Kieran. Not that you're Kieran, obviously you ain't a Kieran, you're a woman and I don't think women are called Kieran - not that there's anything wrong with a woman being called Kieran, o' course, but I just don't think it's a pretty enough name is all..."

The silence was deafening.

Kieran felt mortified. His face was on fire, his hands were clammy and trembling, and his throat was constricted, making his breathing a little shallower.

Then, almost interciptively, the corner of your mouth twitched. A glint of amusement flitted across your eyes. "You sure talk a lot."

The man grimaced, still feeling utterly embarrassed by his idiotic, anxious rambling. "I--I'm sorry, miss, I didn't mean to, I just - I guess I'm still a little nervous."

Instead of turning away in disgust and ignoring him, you held out your hand and offered him a carrot.

Kieran blinked, taken aback. His mind whirred with endless possibilities on why you might be giving him a random vegetable - and how to politely say thank you without seeming as completely bewildered as he felt inside.

It must have shown on his face because the corners of your lips lifted further, forming an amused smile that made the corners of your eyes crease. "It's for Leyla."

It took a moment to register that you were talking about the horse.

"Oh, right, o' course! Um, I didn't realise her name was Leyla." Kieran gingerly accepts carrot from you and offers it to the horse, who gratefully gobbles it down, making sounds of approval.

You smile fondly. "Named her after a dog I had when I was a kid."

His brows raise in shock as your words register. "She's yours?"

"Mhm," you hum in response with a nod. "Best damn girl in the entire country - ain't ya, Ley?"

Leyla, as if in agreement, stomped her hooves and swished her tail.

Kieran huffs a warm chuckle at the horses reaction. He had no idea she belonged to you. If he had, well, he doesn't think he could've treated her better, she was already getting a few more treats and brushes than the other steeds.

"You like horses then?" You ask nonchalantly, stepping around him to gently scratch under Leyla's muzzle.

Kieran cleared his throat, taking a step back, giving you some room. Being so close to you made him feel all jittery inside. "Uh, sure, yeah, I- I like horses as much as the next feller."

"It's nice, isn't it? To be around creatures who don't make you feel judged or make you second guess yourself."

A smile spread on Kieran's mouth as he nodded in agreement. "It is."

As you and the Duffy man continued to make conversation about the horses, you were unaware of three pairs of eyes on you from across camp.

"The first time she speaks to a human being and it's the O'Driscoll?" Karen hisses as she, Tilly and Mary-Beth watch in disbelief.

"I guess they both really like horses," Mary-Beth murmurs, and Tilly nods, agreeing with her.

The trio of women continue to watch on in intense intrigue as you and Kieran host a spirited discussion for what seems like hours.

Before that day, they'd rarely, if ever, seen you smile.

After that day, when they'd catch you talking to Kieran again, they swore they'd never seen you smile as much.

requested ♡ hope you enjoyed, anon!

fun fact. i called the reader's horse after my own dog and she is also, in fact, the best damn girl 🐾💓

[ pics in collage do not belong to me - all were found on pinterest ]

[sulumuns-dootah]

What WHB characters would wear in the human world: Gehenna

⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 

A/N: Very much inspired by the fact that demons in Obey Me have their own lil outfits while going to visit their favorite human ^^

   ༺☆༻

This short king is very much hot biker guy coded.

You know those tiktoks of guys who are showing off on the road and then do stupid shit at gas stations? That's this guy right here

He's not really a brand specific guy, but if you press him, he'll rave to you about MXDVS (honestly, same here ^^)

Darkwear/Techwear/Warcore

   ༺☆༻

Soft boi™

Light colors, nature, tea

Despite having his uniform altered to have black slutty shirt, he's very much cottagecore

He bakes, makes tea and cares for his fellow demons, need I say more?

Soft boy/Cottagecore

   ༺☆༻

V europian gay prince coded indeed

Dorian Gray kinnie

Open shirts all year around, only when it's cold/raining, he'll wear a coat over his shoulders

Vampirecore/Light academia

   ༺☆༻

Lose Paimon in the crowd any% speedrun IMPOSSIBLE challenge

The more colorful, the better

Gotta wear bright colors to match their bright personality

Indie/Kidcore/Harajuku

also pics credit to @/butterfliesworkforsatan on tiktok ^^

   ༺☆༻

Another dramatic ass fashionista

This time make it goth

You can't see it, but he's got eyliner on

What you see, however, is Jiyu wearing the same eyeliner

Vampirecore/Romantic Goth

   ༺☆༻

Ooh he seducin' with more than his words allright

'Hey, my eyes are up here'

Sadly his snake has to be replaced by snake skin boots, but don'T worry, he snake is unharmed and chilling at home in Hell

Big Daddy vibes

Suits and trutlenecks

   ༺☆༻

Anything sporty, really

Likes wearing gray sweatpants bc he gets a lot of compliments

Thinks that grey is just his color

Don't ever tell him the real reason for the sake of u all

Also, maaaaaybee you could accdientally shrink his clothes in the wash so it's tighter on him?

   ༺☆༻

Oh boy, good luck explaining to Juno, that he can't exactly be mostly naked outside or he'll draw too much unwanted attention

'But I've got this insanely hot body! Why should I hide it? Other's should be lucky to see me like that! I'm literally the hottest red lump in Hell!'

Cue in Juno trying to find things that are technically clothes that still show off his muscles

Damiano David ultimatelly becomes his fashion icon

Also Hatari

When this man discovers fishnets? Ooh boy

Good luck talking him out of just wearing full fishnet bodysuit

(and yes, it's hard to find pics that wouldn't get my post flagged by tumblr)

[levis-poison-is-my-medicine]

Cat-Levi

(The Tea Lovers Pt. 6)

A Levi x reader fanfic

Crossposted from AO3

A/n: New chapter alert!

tags: fluff and humor, silly and sweet, tea-obsessed fem!reader with their head in the clouds (word count: 2.2k)

(Part one) / (Levi x reader Masterlist)

The office door fell shut with a clang. Levi tossed the envelope onto the desk, then turned around to face you. You expected him to scold you, but he said nothing. He just stood there and stared at you, one foot tapping the floor in an irritated manner, like he was waiting for something. The silence was hard for you to bear.

"So I take it the drawings are not to your liking, then?" you asked tentatively.

"Now what gave you that impression?" he deadpanned.

"Maybe the way you immediately ordered me into your office after seeing them? Though I guess it could also be to express admiration for my outstanding artistry in private…"

"Certainly not," he huffed. He was scowling again.

"Didn't think so," you murmured. So much for lightening the mood. He really was angry, after all. Maybe you should work on defending yourself.

"You asked to see them, I gave them to you. I did exactly as you told me. So what's the problem, exactly? I can't read your mind."

"Tch," he made. "Guess I need to spell it out for you."

"That would be nice," you said. Though you could already imagine what it was.

"The problem is…this." He pulled out the topmost drawing from the envelope and pushed it in your direction without looking at it. "Why am I like that?"

You gave it a quick glance. He was leaning against the wall, one hand up in his hair, making his bared chest muscles stretch. You had put a lot of attention to detail in there, so you were quite proud of it.

"Shirtless, you mean?"

He nodded, his jaw tense.

"It's a very popular theme with the ladies. I already told you these were all commissions. They want to see what you look like underneath your uniform."

He scoffed. "That's none of their business. Besides, how would you know? You've never even seen me shirtless."

"You are right, I haven't, so there might be some inaccuracies. I'm usually really meticulous, so this has been bothering me for a while, if you must know. I think I got the muscles about right, in fact I really put my heart into those abs...but you probably have some scars that I don't know about, right? Why don't you show me?"

You looked at him expectantly, your curiosity getting the better of you.

"What?!" he asked, dumbfounded. He even forgot to scowl for a moment. "Please? Just a quick peek?"

"No."

"I just want to know if I got it right," you pouted. "At least tell me."

"No."

"Then don't complain if the drawings aren't perfect next time."

His eyes narrowed. "There won't be a next time."

"Right," you mumbled. "I know."

"You apparently don't."

"These really were just drawings I had left from before. What was I supposed to do with them? Burn them?"

"Yes," Levi said.

"Do they really make you that uncomfortable?" you asked.

"They do."

"Okay," you said. "I'll burn them. They make you uncomfortable, so I'll burn them all. Satisfied?"

Levi didn't say anything. He just glared at you, arms crossed over his chest. You could tell he was still mad.

"I am sorry," you said softly.

He nodded. "When you're done burning those drawings, clean the stables. Be thorough. I'll check."

"What? That's gonna take so long!"

"This is nonnegotiable."

"But–"

"You're not happy with your punishment?" he asked with raised eyebrows.

You nodded furiously. "I don't think it's fair." "Fine. After the stables, you will now also do the women's barracks. Not just your room, but all of them."

Your eyes grew big. "You can't even check those," you muttered defiantly.

"I'll ask someone to do it for me. You're lucky, they probably won't have the same standards."

"This is impossible to do in a day," you pouted. "Not that I'm not happy with the punishment. 'Cause I am," you added quickly. You didn't want him to come up with more.

"You have all week," Levi said. He almost sounded amused. His face was back to his usual cool expression.

"Deal." You took the envelope with the drawings from the table, then hesitated, biting your lip. "Levi?"

"Yeah?"

"We'll still have teatime later, right?"

"Of course. Don't be an idiot."

You breathed a sigh of relief.

– –

"Of course he would need to have black, shiny fur", you giggled to yourself as you sat hunched over a piece of paper in a quiet corner of Hange's lab, adding some sparkles to show just how clean it was.

Instead of watching over a very slow, probably very important experiment, like you were supposed to, you were completely absorbed in perfecting your current drawing, which depicted a somewhat irritated-looking cat. Naturally, it wasn't just any cat. You were trying to capture the very essence of Levi Ackerman, distilling it into the shape of the animal on the paper in front of you.

This was your latest plan to get around his order which banned you from making or selling drawings of him. You had to be extra careful after he had chewed you out last time. You'd never seen him so mad. Well, it certainly hadn't helped when you asked him to take off his shirt. He had you scrubbing floors for all of last week. You were finally done with it, and you certainly had no desire to repeat that anytime soon. But you still found it impossible not to wonder whether your portrayal of him had been accurate. (Maybe he'd show you when he wasn't so mad.)

"Don't look at me like that", you mumbled to Cat-Levi, suddenly feeling a little guilty under his reproachful gaze.

"Don't you know I'm doing this all for you?"

If you wanted to be able to afford Levi's birthday present, you had no choice but to resort to methods like these. Surely he would understand. Better yet, he would never find out in the first place.

You nodded at the picture, satisfied. It was still in its draft stage, but it was getting there. In fact, it was kind of cute, and the longer you looked at it, the cuter it became.

"You're so precious," you gushed. "I wish you were real." Your face broke into a massive grin as you imagined what Cat-Levi would actually be like.

Chortling, you started to scribble a list of traits underneath it.

Smol

You don't choose him. He chooses you.

Perpetually grumpy (secretly a big softie but likes to keep the people around him on their toes)

Hits you with his cute little paws when you disturb him while he's sleeping

Hits you when you try to pet him without his permission

If he wants pets, he approaches you first. Then you have to give him attention. If you don't - you guessed it - he'll pout and hit you (with a cute little paw of course)

Is not afraid to draw blood (but with his special chosen person, he hits them paw only without any claws)

Others when they disturb them? They get it bad.

Did I already mention his cute little paws?

Cleanly as fuck. Don't disturb him while he's grooming himself. He will be your enemy.

Has trouble sleeping but when his chosen person is there with him he can relax

Hates being picked up. It makes him feel smol. Never make him feel smol.

Looves head scritches

Loves gourmet cat food. He's a luxury babe. (But if it comes from his favorite person, he will accept anything they feed him.)

You were so immersed in your writing that you didn't even notice Levi leaning in the doorway.

He watched you as you sat in front of the bubbling flasks, bent over your notes, your face hidden behind a curtain of your hair. Your pen was scratching furiously over the paper, exuding an air of productivity and concentration. He was almost impressed.

Then you giggled.

All of his illusions were shattered in an instant. Clearly, you were doing anything but working.

He approached you with a scowl on his face, already suspecting the worst.

"Are you drawing me again?"

You looked up, startled at the sudden presence, but your wide grin remained in place.

"Nooo! It's just a cat. Not everything's about you, you know."

You ostentatiously pushed the drawing over to him, trying to show him that you had nothing to hide. "See?"

Levi peered down at the cat which sat there with a wrinkled nose, its irritated gaze mirroring his own.

"Tch."

Your smile grew even wider. "Buut, now that you're here…lend me a hand, will you? I need help coming up with a name for this cat! What would you name him?"

You held out the drawing to him. He didn't take it. "Shouldn't you be working?" He motioned to the experiment set up in front of you.

"Ah, that," you said, like you had only just remembered it. "Nothing's been happening for the past three hours. I think it's a bust." You extended your hand even further, waggling the sheet of paper right under his nose.

"Come on, it will only take a second. Then I will get back to watching this thing like a hawk, I promise!"

Levi begrudgingly accepted the drawing and read the notes with raised eyebrows. "Who would even like this cat?"

You gasped, clutching at your chest in horror. "Excuse me? I do! Everyone does. He's precious, okay? You wouldn't know true cuteness even if it hit you in the face."

"I think I would," he said, giving you a glance.

"Obviously not. He's like, the definition of cute." You were pouting. "So, did you come up with a name?"

"Hellspawn," he said dryly.

"Noo, that's so mean! That's not even a real name."

"Fine." Levi sighed. He was quiet for a while, thinking. You looked at him expectantly.

"Herbert," he said finally, his tone serious.

You burst out laughing.

"What?" He frowned. "You wanted a real name. I gave you one."

"No, no, it's great, really. You're absolutely right," you tried to appease him.

"Herbert it is then."

Of course, this was just his undercover name. He would always be a Levi to you.

You took the paper from him and added a bowl, lovingly writing 'Herbert' on it in cursive letters.

When you were done, Levi was still standing there with his arms crossed.

You shot him a questioning look. "So, why did you come here? Did you want something?"

"Just wondering why you were late."

"Late?" You took out your pocket watch. It was just after 4 o'clock. "Oh, it's teatime already? I can't believe I almost missed it! I totally lost track of time." You jumped up from your seat. "Let's go!"

"What happened to watching your experiment with hawk eyes?"

You winced, visibly deflated as the excitement drained from your body. "You're right", you mumbled. "I did say that…" Why had you promised that, again?

You slumped back into the chair, eyes fixed on the flasks. They were still bubbling happily, almost as if they were mocking you.

Hange had told you to watch the experiment until they got back. It had seemed easy enough, while also giving you the perfect excuse to get out of today's training. You just never would've imagined they'd take this long.

"Go on without me…" you said in a dramatic, choked up voice.

Levi snorted. He pulled up a chair. "Don't be stupid. You'll get withdrawal symptoms." He knew how you got when you didn't have your afternoon tea. It wasn't pretty.

"These your notes?" He pointed at the lab journal.

You stared at him. It certainly looked like he was offering to watch the experiment for you. But that couldn't be right. You had to be dreaming again. Or hallucinating. It had been a while since you'd had your last tea. Maybe these were some new withdrawal symptoms? Still, you had to make sure.

"Don't tell me… You would give up on teatime for me?"

"Go before I change my mind."

"Wow. For real? Thank you!" You beamed at him. "I'm honestly so touched. You're the best, you know that? The best!"

You bent forward to give him a little kiss on the cheek. His eyes widened.

"I really don't know what I'd do without you," you went on, still smiling cheerfully, before getting up from your chair.

Levi cleared his throat. He wasn't looking at you. "I have work to do. So don't take too long."

"Of course not," you reassured him. "I'll be right back. You won't even notice I was gone."

He rolled his eyes. That was a blatant lie. You always took your time with tea, savoring every last drop.

You were already at the door when you suddenly turned back around.

"I just want you to know…"

"What?" Levi asked.

"I'll never forget your glorious sacrifice," you declared solemnly.

Before he could answer, you were already out the door.

Levi looked after you, absently bringing a hand up to his cheek.

"Tch. Always so dramatic," he grumbled to himself, but his gaze was soft.

Tag list: @thechaoticarchivist, @mmm-alhaitham, @nironasaran, @leviiheichou, @huffleruffplant, @shutupp1, @iifrui, @shakysif, @ickearmn

Click here for part 7

[rye-bread-soda-iceberg]

I'm not big on headcanons as I personally prefer to have my characters be as close to canon as possible

but when you consider yourself to be in a somewhat serious romantic relationship with a fictional character (or two) you do start to wonder things about them. so I'm just gonna ramble cause I'm in a mood and as you'll see I put a lot of thought into how they'd be as real living breathing people

the hcs I have for them looks-wise are quite basic as I love every single inch of them just as they are already. that said:

I imagine both Sampo and Veritas to be between 6'2 and 6'4 in height (or roughly around 193-194 cms), both with a muscular though particularly soft build. I've drawn them shirtless various times, especially Sampo, though I never had a particular body type in mind for them. what I'm trying to say is that neither of them has rock hard abs or vacuum-sucked muscles, that feels like a crime to me. I like to think Veritas shaves quite frequently almost everywhere and Sampo shaves much less frequently and he is generally hairier (I started to draw him with hairy arms etc + I think he'd have a happy trail as well). though I only drew Veritas shirtless once, I decided that he has a mole just below his navel. it's a stupid little detail that wouldn't even be noticeable 90% of the time but I personally know it's there and I think that's lovely. plus, moles are attractive

I also like to imagine Sampo has much sharper features on his face, mainly his nose and chin, and high cheekbones. i have seen Veritas being drawn with a more prominent, rounder nose (that points down a bit) and chin so i kinda adopted that headcanon into my own art of him. so like, they're kinda opposites in that regard

obviously you can't have headcanons without mentioning the characters' sexuality and gender. they're both cisgender males to me, though I do like when people hit them with the transgender beam. Sampo is bi + ace (and mildly sex repulsed) and Veritas is pansexual. this just feels the most right to me for both of them, can't see them any other way. other than that, Veritas is 100% autistic to me and he also has a severe case of sensory issues (can relate to that). I don't exactly know what's up with Sampo yet but I look forward to diagnosing him in the future

despite what some people might believe, I think they both have the potential to be incredibly gentle, loving and caring partners while still retaining the core aspects of their personalities. that, but also I am of the idea that if you love a character as much as I love them, why would you ruin that for yourself by believing they wouldn't love you back with that same intensity?

I like to believe that as my partners they understand me as a person exactly as much as I understand them as characters, therefore would know how to handle me in the way I'd best prefer (most of the time, that is)

I've reblogged most of the relationship hcs posts I found about either of them, which I think are so so accurate (and lovely) and feel the most likely to be canon. for example, Sampo would be overly affectionate, perhaps a bit clingy (not that I'd mind) and Veritas would be somebody who truly genuinely cares about your interests and wants to hear you talk about them. as I said, stuff that both feels in character to them but doesn't stop them from being good loving partners

I have some other hcs though they're slightly less serious and more general

for example, a few days ago I said I was imagining what they'd get for breakfast at a bar in the center of my city if we were just waking around together waiting for the day to start. so here it is: Veritas would have a whole wheat croissant filled with either honey or jam + a cup of tea. for Sampo, instead, I don't see him being too big on having sweets for breakfast. if he were to have something sweet, he'd have a plain croissant and a simple coffee, and I like to think he'd dip the croissant in the coffee (which Veritas would find just kind of wrong, like how people bite kitkats, and he'd give him a weird look). if he was in the mood for something less sweet, he'd have a simple sandwich with lunch meat and vegetables + just ice cold water. for some reason I don't think he'd enjoy a warm drink in the morning, but maybe I'm just projecting here

other stupid hcs I have are:

Veritas is the kind of person that cracks their knuckles/hands/etc Really loudly wherever they are. it's funny cause I personally find it a bit repulsive when people do that and would 100% hate it

Sampo makes a lot of stupid sounds like groaning in pain, for example as he stands up from a chair he goes "ohh oof" like his back hurts or he's too old to be doing all that. he's just very overdramatic and kinda whiny about having to move around too much, though he definitely doesn't have any actual issues doing that

they would both talk so much, especially if I imagine they're comfortable around each other and me. they'd be constantly bickering, though it would be much more playful and lighthearted than, say, the interactions Veritas has with Aventurine in game. though of course he'd still maintain a twinge of his sharp tone, which would prompt Sampo to respond in some overdramatic, silly manner. of course I would join in and I feel like our conversations would be intense (in a good way) regardless of the subject matter

as I said before, Veritas definitely has sensory issues. I have as well, so perhaps I'm just projecting mine onto him here, but still I'd like to think we'd relate to each other a little bit on this particular topic. one example, I think he'd be sensitive to strong, intense smells/perfumes (which is why he enjoys much more delicate ones like the faint scent of flowers)

also, while I like to imagine they'd both be quite touchy in a comfortable relationship, Sampo is definitely a hundred times touchier. he's the kind of person that pulls you into a hug randomly, always has to have a hand on your shoulder, arm or back, gently pulls you out of the way if he has to walk past you instead of asking you to move. mixed with that, he teases a lot as well. for example, he'd annoy me so much with jokes or jabs at my lack of height, he'd be so shamelessly cringe with it too

lastly, they are clearly respectively Finnish and Greek. while in hsr it's different, it is still implied. Sampo speaks Finnish and English while Veritas speaks Greek, English, Latin obviously, then I'd imagine a handful of other languages like French, Spanish, Italian, perhaps German or Russian as well

that said, I so want to learn about Finnish culture and Greek culture (+ maybe learn the languages as well) cause even though they're canonically from who knows where, that would still give me a lot more insight on what they'd be like as real people

[magentakinky]

[See tags for CW]

You have to know. You must know what you're doing to me.

Do you have any idea how hard it is?

When I braid that pretty blonde hair not to let my fingers linger too long

When we draw on each other and you have to get so close to me to see what youre working on not to keep you there

When you drunkenly end up at my feet clinging to my leg and letting that pretty little head fall onto my knee while you whine to me about taking care of myself- god i could get used to that sight.

When you ask me to help put sunscreen on your back not to sink my claws into that tattoo, to resist the temptation when my fingers rub across your skin to work my thumbs into that toned muscle. Youre so tense. I bet i could make you moan just from an innocent little massage.

But there would never be innocence.

And you know that, don't you?

Not when I see your crop top ride up and my eyes lock onto a vein tracing its way from your slutty fucking waist down along the v of your hips, dipping below your waistband.

And you're oh so innocent.

I can't help but tease you a bit for being a virgin in your twenties.

But if you knew. If you knew it was because I couldn't get it off my mind.

Such a pretty little thing and so clueless.

Keeping me up at night with exactly how I'd like to corrupt you and fucking ruin you.

I'm sure you'd be shy, but I'd drag the noises out of you. I'm not sure I could be gentle.

Not with the way you keep teasing me.

You have to know.

When you started leaning into dressing like a femboy. Why was I the first person you thought to show those pictures to?

Not just any fit check either. Photos taken carefully. Angled just so to highlight the curve of your ass, the dip of your spine, the way your pretty little waist looks in that short skirt.

You're such a fucking tease.

You have to know what seeing you like that does to me.

Just how innocent can you be in all of this?

You heard I thought you were hot months ago from a friend but showed no interest. That was fine.

But when you get drunk.

You ask me if I'd fuck you and I answer too quickly.

You tell me I have nice tits. I say thanks as if I'm not thinking about those calloused hands playing bass.

You ask to draw on me. Im wearing a t-shirt and sleep shorts. I let you and try not to shiver when those hands cover me in ink from my ankles all the way to my inner thighs.

Your head ends up by my lap and i stroke your hair- soothingly, I justify. But I just want to run my fingers through your hair and give you head scratches. I want to make you such a good boy for me.

Some boys only have long hair to give you something to pull on.

I want to make you whimper for me.

Drunk and in the dark, I'm drawing on you again with a ballpoint pen. I reach for your hand but think better of it since you have work and I push your sleeve up starting to sketch a face on your forearm. You say something I don't quite hear. Your arm is in my lap, and I feel the ridges of the skin under my pen. I must have grabbed your left arm. I'm almost finished when I apologize if I'm being too rough with you. I don't miss the hiss in your voice when you breathe out a "yeah, you went right on my scars."

I apologize for hurting you, but wish I could have done it in a quiet room. I want to hear every little hiss and noise you made while I put my mark on you.

I bet you'd be so sensitive. You have no idea the pleasure I could give you.

I pretend not to pay attention when you talk to our other friends about how you want to be good at sex. When you ask how to make a girl feel good and how to eat pussy.

I pretend not to hear when they tell you about how to last longer and you indignantly tell them that yeah youve tried edging before.

I try not to show on my face the goddamn pornographic mental images that gave me.

You laid out in your bedroom with the door locked, needily jacking your hard cock and just when your stomach is tensing and that look of pleasure is mounting on your face. Youd slow down, groaning in spite of your own hand as you stroke it slowly, torturing yourself.

I want to know what your reactions would be like. Your untouched body suddenly overtaken by hands running along your sensitive sides, by soft hands palming your hardness.

I want to hear the noise you make the first time a mouth touches your dick. I want to watch your reaction when you feel just how much hotter it is than your own calloused hands. I want to be the one to blow your mind when I take you to the base and hollow my cheeks around you. When i tease the head of your cock with my tongue. I want to ruin you for your own hand ever again.

I want to see the look on that pretty little face when I make you cum for me. Itd be even cuter if you came quick. The sudden overwhelming stimulus being too much for you to handle.

I wouldn't stop when you came of course. I need to wring out every little jolt and moan out of you as I can. And what better way than to overstimulate you into oblivion. I want to leave you a begging, twitching wreck under me.

God, if I could make those pretty blue eyes cry for me.

You tease me too much for your own good, blondie.

You don't know what you're getting yourself into.

Or do you?

[maia-and-ria]

You two have artifacts, right? Why don't you tell us about them? Tell us about getting them for the first time--did you have any kind of special experience? Did anything draw you to them in particular? Have you customized them in any way, or are they the same as when you got them?

((Thank you for the ask! I've been meaning to talk about it actually))

"I'll answer first." Maia clears her throat. "My artifact is your typical police standard handcuff. Just without the key. There's no keyhole on it."

Maia pulls on her artifact keychain and then pull out something from her behind. She put the two things side by side to show you what she mean. "I don't costumize my artifact because... I don't see why I should. Only I can use them anyway and I can't let the person I'm securing to think I'm unserious."

Ria butts in, "Only you would think that way."

Maia shoot her a menacing glare. "I am NOT letting you put feathers on them." Earning her a scoff from the girl.

"Meanie."

"I heard that." Maia sigh. Years of friendship clearly did not stop the scold that follows after Ria's inappropriate jokes. Feathers on handcuff? No way.

"I had it before I entered Darkwick. I've heard cases where artifacts speak to their chosen owner upon first meeting, but mine didn't.

"I know it's not exactly a combative artifact. Still, we're made for each other. It does what my head wants it to do so I never need to shout orders.

"I don't need to personally touch criminals to escort them. Those scoundrels won't run away either because this thing will hold them in place for as long as I want. I told you earlier that it doesn't come with a key, right? That's because I am the key."

"Sounds sexy, Miss Dominatrix. Why don't you try it on me because I've been a bad girl~" Ria says seductively as she twirl her hair.

"Get the fuck out."

"Take me out yourself ♡." She winks at her. "And you forget the fact that you're sitting at MY bar, my pretty little Maia."

"ANYWAYS–" Ignoring Ria's comment. "The downside of this is it only works with humans and ghouls.

"...and inhuman ghouls." She adds after a brief silence, her expression darkens. "Yeah. Anomalies are not included. The only thing I can do to those creatures are obliterating them – which is not exactly what Darkwick wants."

"Ah! Is it my turn?" Ria pulls on her keychain. It's a beautiful handfan with leaf made of black lace – a striking but dangerous contrast to the sharp, silver blade for ribs. The blooming red rose will make you think of unseen blood stains that were once trailing down the small blades. When it unfolds, the sound of metal clashing against one another will send shiver to anyone in the room. It's amazing that the lace doesn't rip during action when the rest of the fan seems heavy. "Pretty, isn't it? Pretty enough for you to ignore me; the prettier owner."

Maia roll her eyes at her statement. It must be an everyday occurence to her.

"In contrast to Maia's artifact, mine can be a combat weapon," says Ria as she fans herself with it. "But why would I fight? Beautiful girls should never use her muscle that way."

"Oh God here we go again," says Maia under her breath, looking up at the ceiling – exasperated.

"And Maia will always fight my battles for me. Isn't that right, Mai?" She's too busy downing her drink to even answer her. Too busy ignoring Ria.

"My stigma can do a good job hurting people without me needing to use it, but I can still whack things real hard with this. You must've seen Kagami's artifact, right? Since you had solved a mission with him before. His parasol can be deadly, so does my fan.

She's inching in to you – so close you can feel her warmth on your face. "But. . . I can show you the more fun part if you want. It'd be just the two of us~♡" If you have a unique taste in that area, that is.

"Cut it out, you'll scare them."

"I always knew you're the possessive type." Ria flips her hair, showing the proud grin on her face.

"Keep dreaming."

Ria chuckles. "Well, Bami and Romeo can have their guns, my Ritsu has that huge-ass book, I don't see why mine is any weirder.

"It’s a shame this pretty thing had to spend its time collecting dust in that room back then, before I arrived. Must’ve been lonely..."

Using her pointy finger, she presses on the pointy blade of the fan, making herself bleed as she watch the blood flowing out of her. "I've cut myself a few times with these... but now I don't anymore.

"Beauty is pain, indeed."

[5eraphim]

how would u rank each merc on a scale of 1 to 10 for how hot they are

ranked from lowest to highest-

(non of this was proofread, so sorry abt that/edit later maybe?)

alright so sprinting into dead last is scout- im sorry ive said this a billion times but CHRIST ALIVE- (-10/10)

like im so pissed too- your ma is a SMOKESHOW, you're dad is (dare i say) also a 10, how did it happen like this? he's like a precum baby i think. like he's not all the way human. he wasn't meant to be like this, but yet here he stands, a pancaked-ass Masshole in the place a greater man might have stood. i want to break his spine over my knee.

sniper after scout. (4/10)

his voice is sooooo great, and i have warmed up a bit to him, but all the same. he's just not my type physicality wise, but i think i get the appeal. i also thought it was really sweet they let him have that soft moment with his parents in heaven where his dad tells him how proud he was and all that. (assuming it wasn't all a hallucination, but i digress,) i would've expected them to show his dad giving him a hard time one last time before he came back to earth, but i'm happy the comics let him have this :)

pyro next, (5/10)

the cop out answer is "well obviously the fire-brandishing character is the hottest-" but that's lame to me. it's honestly REALLY hard for me to see them as attractive or "dateable" just bc I project "my child" onto them. I've mentioned before, but i don't like them bc i wanna fuck them, i wanna protect them like a mother. i wanna feed them a homecooked stew with a wooden spoon, i wanna make crayon drawings with them, tell them bedtime stories, hand-stich him a stuffed animal, yk that sort of vibe. i do care for them a lot, but not in a romantic sense tbh.

Demo and Soldier (7/10)

I'm putting them together bc they are only really attractive to me when they're drawn with bulk-muscle. the idea of either of them packing on lean muscle is so weird to me. but they just feel like such living embodiments of "just here for a good time," and honestly? sometimes that's all you need :) If i HAD to put one above the other, I would put Demo over Solder, bc i ADORE fanart and official art that give him that cute little drunken lazy smile. it's just such a little thing that is so endearing to me!

Spy (10/10)

i'm sorry, i genuinely have no idea why i'm such an apologist for him, i deserve to have my rights taken away for this.

but i think i genuinely envy him in a lot of ways. he's not exactly the kind of attractive i want, but what i want to become. i envy his poise, his swagger, his cunning, (his ability to pull scout's ma). he's such a great jerk-with-a-heart-of-gold type of older guy, of which i am weak to, alas. i NEED to go on a shoplifting spree with this bitch-

Heavy (10/10)

the hottest thing to fantasize abt heavy to me is him calling me a weak little baby and mocking me for being a 5'3 underweight, anemic little loser. this man could DESTROY ME, and damn is that fun to think about, but! I'd be remiss not to mention how much he loves his family, how he would do ANYTHING to protect those he loves the most, and i swear, that one panel in the comics of him hugging his mother gets me every time.

medic (15/10)

what is there even to say that hasn't been said?

He's a chaotic-hottie if ever there's been one, with a kind of zest for life which is remarkable, even in a cast of colorful manic weirdoes. but like, CHRIST this man makes me go feral. like i want him to wrap his gloves around my neck tight enough for the latex to start squeeking, i wanna feel those high-traction combat boots DIGGING into my back as he crushes me into the floor, i want him to drain me of blood and make fun of me for passing out- i would let this man do so many unspeakable things to me...

engie (20/10)

i will never get tired of this guy <3 he's the living embodiment of "southern comfort," and much like medic, it's not at all surprising people love him so much. no one else has his character's incredible dichotomy of, sweet and gentle, while also able to deal out insane levels of violence (heavy comes close, but he doesn't quiet have engie's soft approachable disposition). definitely got the short end of the stick in the comics imo, as we don't get to see much of his family (or rather him interacting WITH his family) but in game at least he gives them lot's of shout-outs which is nice, but honestly makes me want to see them all the more! he's such a whore for all those cozy knit-wear cosmetics too. he's perfect in every way, he makes my heart flutter, he has never done anything wrong in his life ever, i would die to protect him.

[deltadescent]

Would you happen to have advice for drawing “people figures”?

I FORGOT ABOUT THIS ONE UHMM... I'm not entirely sure...?

So, for short;

It depends.

For long;

Everyone has different body types, and that reflects when you draw people figures. For each type of form/body type/figure, I'd have to give different advice. For example, look at these characters:

These characters arguably all have different body types, changing based on whether they're flat chested or have a more pronounced chest, if they're muscular or slim, etc. I wouldn't go about drawing someone like Minnow- who has little to no body fat- the same way I would go about drawing someone like Tilly- who has more body fat. Same with characters who have muscles/don't have muscles.

Because of that, it's hard to give advice. There's no RIGHT way to do it, and there's no INHERENTLY wrong way to (unless you're doing it intentionally to stereotype or be offensive).

It helps to break down the bodies into shapes for some (circle or oval for a head, elongated ovals for arm segments, circles for joints, circles/triangles/trapezoids for forming things like chest/stomach/etc.)

I personally just draw one circle and build up the whole body around it like;

THOUGH IF YOU LISTEN TO MY PREVIOUS NARRATIVE ILLUSTRATION PROFESSOR... He told me to work from the feet and upward so you can maintain correct posture. Personally that advice went in one ear and right out the other for me, since my brain just likes to operate a little funky, but if that sounds interesting to you, you could check out ways to do that.

I think my best suggestion is: OBSERVE!!!

Look up different people, look up cartoon characters even, and just observe how they're drawn or shaped. Try to mimic the style even, if it's just for yourself. The best way to learn is from just trying to copy what other people do IN YOUR OWN WAY. You will never fully adapt someone's style ofc or do somethign exactly the way they do it, but looking to their art for examples on how to draw characters can help a ton!!

I'm super unhelpful with art because i work without a sketch most of the time (first thing I draw is the eyes tbh), but I really do suggest looking at other's works and pictures of people, depending on whether you want more realistic or cartoony figures. Just don't trace people's stuff or steal, and you're already doing fine!

[recurring-polynya]

Writing/Art Update 8.29.23

I did more than nothing this week, which was something. I guess.

I really do want to get back to work on Ductwork, but it's Renji's birthday this week and I wanted to have something postable. Obviously, it would be fun and cool if I could finish that porno I started, but I was struggling with that, and I wanted to divert my brain a little. I do not remember exactly why or how, but I got it in my head that I wanted to write some Renji & Momo Academy horsing around and I came up with something good for that, and I started it. Sounds great, right? It grew in my head a little, but it still seemed pretty do-able, and in a wild thing that never happens, I had both a good ending in mind and a title, and I was feeling good. I even got a whopping 700 words of it written.

Then I got hit with an incredibly stupid and possibly unpublishable, like, future chapter of this thing, on the presumption that it turned into some sort of long anthology of Renji-Momo-Kira-and-sometimes-Rukia stories, who does want that? Everyone wants that. Everyone except me who has to write it. Well, I do want to write it, but I also want to write the story that I am way way super behind on and planned to spend my fall on. Anyway, having no willpower whatsoever (my general writing rule is that when I want to write something, I let myself write it, because the feeling is fleeting and unobtainable under artificial conditions) and write 2100 words that I honestly do not know what I am supposed to do with, aside from let them sit in my drafts for four years until I dredge them out again. o____o

Also, the porno is up to 2871, an increase of 458 words, wrung out of me one by painful one.

Also, I re-read the one Big Scene I really like in Ductwork and it's so irritating to having something this good and to still need, like 50,000 words to go around it.

In other news, I drew a thing. It's...Renji adjacent, so I'm gonna post it on the 31st, since I probably won't have anything else. It's fine, it can be Renji's birthday until I say it's not. (Oh shit I just remembered I have 80% of a Renji - Orihime fic that I found in my drafts that I was hoping to dust off and finish for the Renji - Orihime Birthday Interregnum. Maybe that's still do-able)

I have definitely gotten into a place with my drawing (and my writing is started to go there too, I am afraid) where trying to do anything seems too big and too hard and not worth starting, but I'm really trying hard to fight back against that. I want to figure out something to do, like redrawing screenshots or something, which will take a lot of the hard "picking a pose" up-front friction out of the activity, because I was really close to not-sucking for a while there, and then I lost all my enthusiasm for it. :(

Anyway, the kids went back to school, so the house is a lot quieter this week. They're really good kids, I don't want anyone to ever think I don't like my kids or something, but I get really exhausted being around other people, and it's like every muscle in my body relaxes if I get the house to myself even for a bit. (Mr. P is still here, but it's better than everyone). It also helps my motivation, because I say to myself, "I've got until 3 to get my own stuff done" and then it's Mom-on-call time again and that's honestly really helpful to my executive function.

Grand total: 3319 words and one drawing, distinctly not bad

PS: Despite it resulting in some productivity, I do not at all like the feeling of being scatterbrained like this, it makes me very overwhelmed and short-tempered. I've also been getting a lot of asks lately and it was making those feelings even worse, so I've closed my ask box until I feel like I've got my brain under control again.