#all the hands in this are so well rendered

[havanillas]

Heya! Person who went/goes over gender swap?? Female version?? Of Ratiorine, or just the way you draw women in general here. I'm an artist (not really but I do draw and paint from time to time) I just wanted to ask, (sorry if this is really silly or inappropriate) How do you draw breasts semi realistically?? Or just draw them the way you do. I honestly don't know how to draw human anatomy at all, I just kinda wing it but breasts, male chest alongside legs and hands are a STRUGGLE for me. (Been slowly getting better) YET BREASTS ARE ALWAYS JUST NOT LOOKING RIGHT AND IT MAKES ME WANT TO SOB They're always very anime looking in a very very bad way (because I grew up watching mostly anime and using old anime drawing tutorial books) No need to respond/answer if you don't want to! Just wanted to ask!

breasts are affected a lot by the angle of the shoulders and the pull of gravity, which are both pretty daunting factors for learning artists

i'd recommend anatomy studying but that's not what you asked for(tell me if anyone's interested), so i'll take the opportunity to draw more fem!ratio

behold, a booba tutorial with veritas ratio. only open if youre interested in boobs

breasts don't really have a fixed form, so they're tricky to make them look natural. as i mentioned, i consider the gravity and angle of the shoulders, as well as clothing when drawing them

i'll go over an easy method to paint them. for demonstration, i unbuttoned ratio's shirt. for educational purposes.

i like to use shaded tones as base color and add light afterwards

with some lassoing and glow layer (overlay/add/anything that works) it already looks fairly alright, but i'm gonna do some blurring to make it look better

i blurred and erased around the edges to make the light blend in more naturally to the lineart and the shirt

i added a little bit of redness around the edges of the light to make it look more like flesh as well as reflected lights (the blue circles), they'll give clearer indications on where the breast starts and ends

i usually end the details here when i don't feel like going for high quality render

and there it is, a pair of shiny boobs

im not sure how to lay out the higher quality render process, i haven't really figured it out enough to explain it to someone else yet

anyways i like how this one turned out, so i'll try fancying it up tomorrow, i'll post it when im done

[mrasmus]

I'm definitely in the "can notice (and is bothered by) flicker" so this is near and dear to my heart. Even people who are less sensitive to it can actually often perceive the issue in a minor way by just... waving their hand while lit by a single flickering light source. If you see discrete positions that your hand is in, like layered animation frames, that's the flicker in action; comparing to sunlight is the easiest way to see the stark difference.

The other factor involved with LED's (which is also important with photography/videography) is CRI ("Color Rendering Index") which is a measure of... basically the component makeup of the light source. Lights produce a range of colors that get perceived as one net color (the "color temperature"). Because of their nature, incandescent bulbs are... very solid on the CRI front, but LED's, especially cheap ones, aren't, and some people are sensitive to that as well. Luckily the more premium bulbs that have good anti-flicker are often the ones with higher CRI's, and CRI is less of a problem for people in general, but if you're shopping bulbs, the ideal to look for is the 90+ range. I don't really get too bothered until it's under 80, but it's worth knowing what's out there, IMO. If you are doing photography, 90+ isn't negotiable.

My personal lighting is almost exclusively Philips and Cree, but there are a lot of manufacturers who have stepped up their game. I'm hoping that the flicker issues will continue to fall away as time goes on.

(Also, incandescent isn't a solution for either of these problems. LED's that account for both of these shortcomings are still going to be less expensive when you factor in the total cost of ownership, compared to all of the incandescent bulbs they'd replace. This is dumb culture war nonsense, holy crap.)

This is one of those things where the discourse is just completely broken. Both of these takes are shit and no one is concerned about the actual problem.

Republicans want to bring back incandescents because they just want to trigger the libs and have decided light bulbs are woke.

And the "LEDs are fine" crowd are throwing people with flicker sensitivities under the bus. And, no, you don't have to be "pretty far on the spectrum" to notice a difference. And even if you did... why in the world is this person so dismissive of the millions of autistic folks?

LEDs, for the most part, are superior to incandescent bulbs. Collectively they save people billions of dollars in energy costs and greatly reduce fossil fuel use. You have more options for color and brightness. You can control them with your phone. LEDs are fantastic.

Unfortunately there is a design flaw that makes LEDs hard to use for certain people. Due to AC power, most LEDs have a 60hz refresh rate. Meaning they turn off and on 60 times per second. With incandescents this didn't matter because the filament didn't have time to lose its glow between cycles.

Most people cannot see this flicker in LEDs. But there are millions of people who are sensitive to it and it can cause migraines and discomfort.

The solution is definitely not to go back to incandescents. There are flicker free LEDs and I think with some regulation we could make sure all LEDs are flicker free or at least make sure flicker free bulbs are easy to find and not priced at a premium.

Thankfully there is a group testing bulbs to find the ones that will most likely cause no discomfort. They call themselves the Flicker Alliance and their website has a pretty decent selection of tested and approved bulbs.

So if you feel like your LED bulbs might be causing you distress, that is a good resource to try. I think there is also something you can do to make sure the LED drivers are using DC power, but I haven't really looked into that.

[sanguineterrain]

"they're giving me a few minutes to try and talk some sense into you." With Jason? As either the speaker or the one being spoken to? 🙏

This one was a thinker to come up with an idea for but it was fun to write!!

jason todd x gn!reader. reader is a civilian turned rogue from experimentation and is jason's ex. reader has poison ivy-esque abilities. tw violence, threats, angry reader who tries to hurt jason. happy ending.

****

You've lost count of the days. You're not even sure where they're keeping you. It's a cell, but it's not in an asylum. It's not in a prison either.

Wherever it is, it makes your teeth itch. You haven't seen another human since you got caught. Once, someone tried to leave you food through a slot in the door, but you messed that up by grabbing their hand and trying to claw them.

So now the food trays get dropped from the ceiling. You're too weak to attempt any crawling ivy up there.

You're sitting against the wall dozing when the door slides open with a quiet chirp.

Jason Todd walks in, dressed like a civilian. He looks comfortable in his Gotham U sweatshirt and jeans, but you know better. You see the small blade in his pocket and the way he sets his shoulders. You knew him too well and for too long to think that this is a regular visit.

Still, you're shocked to see him. After all, he broke up with you.

"Well, this is special," you say, unable to keep the bitterness from your words. "Am I finally being interrogated?"

Jason looks at you mildly. "They let me have a few minutes to talk some sense into you."

You scoff. "They sent you to do that?"

He's quiet for a moment. Then he walks over and sits across from you, on the floor. He crosses his legs.

You can touch him from this distance. Hurt him.

"I can help," Jason says. "If you'd let me."

"Is that Batman I hear coming out of your mouth?"

That renders him silent. You take the chance to speak, drive the knife into his gut.

"So I wasn't enough to stay for before, but as soon as I cause a little trouble, get experimented on and become a real threat, you come running? Was my old self too boring for you?"

"You didn't bore me. You know that's not why we broke up."

"I don't know, actually," you snap. "You dropped off the face of the earth one day and now you're here."

Jason shakes his head. "I know. I'm sorry. I should've—you deserved better than me. I thought I was doing you a favor by leaving."

"Oh, God, you're a cliche!" You throw your head back and laugh, the sound hollow. "Don't give me that martyr bullshit. We were happy. You were a coward."

"I was," he says. "I was cowardly and selfish and stupid."

Your eye twitches. Jason's softness rankles you. What happened to the Red Hood who beats rogues into submission? Talking sense wouldn't mean an actual conversation.

Then again, Jason probably doesn't take you seriously. He only remembers you as the harmless civilian that would tend to his bruises and make him eggs in the morning. He didn't see you break out of a lab or destroy everything in your path until Batman restrained you.

He thinks you're good. Gentle. Easy to love. You'll prove him wrong.

"I could've killed if I wanted to," you say. "Did you see what I did to Dick? I did a lot of damage."

"I saw," Jason says, leaning back on his hands.

You grit your teeth. "Well, I'm sure he'd prefer me locked up. Bruce, too. And you. Two problems solved in one."

"No one wants to lock you up. Anyway, I wouldn't let 'em. I know how to recognize someone in need of a second chance."

That pushes you over the edge, referring to you like you're just a common thief on the street in need of mercy. You don't need anyone's mercy, least of all his.

You lash out, savagely bracing your arm and aiming for Jason's throat. He feints your attack and catches you both, landing on his back on the floor. You just as quickly wrap your other hand around his throat.

Your powers are weak in this cell after they injected you with something that burned, made the hatred inside of you shrivel up for a brief respite. In this weakened state, you have to make skin contact to inflict any real damage, and Jason knows that. Jason's beyond smart enough to figure out how your abilities work.

You manage to push out a single vine from your hand. It's a little brown, a little dead, but it's strong enough to curl around Jason's neck and hold on.

You hear noise outside, a muffled shout of alarm. Jason raises a hand calmly, signalling them to back off. You feel him swallow against your vine.

"'S okay," he says, loud enough to carry outside of the cell, steadily looking at you. "We're just talkin'."

"Is that what we're doing, Jason?" you ask, rage tunneling your vision.

"Sure it is. If I say we're talking, then we are."

"Even if I hurt you?" you snarl. "I'm a criminal. I went crazy. That's why they put me here."

Slowly, Jason rests a hand on the middle of your spine. It's warm and solid. Your stomach jumps at the feeling. It's been so long since he's touched you. It used to be your normal, Jason touching you, holding you, sharing your bed.

"You're not a criminal and you're not crazy," he says softly. "You're in pain, and you're angry, and this feels like your last resort."

Something cracks in your chest. The day you said those words to Jason rushes back to you. It had been raining and you'd found him on your fire escape, helmet off, eyes thick with tears. He hadn't been able to go through with his plan for Bruce.

"Why don't you use the knife in your pocket?" you ask. He could sever your vine at the root. It would sting and make you cry. He could make you weak.

"'Cause I don't wanna hurt you," Jason says. "If this is what you need to feel in control, so be it."

Your grip tightens. Jason grunts and rubs his hand up and down your spine. His other hand goes to your hip and squeezes.

"I can hurt you," you say, trying to believe it.

Jason nods. "That's okay, baby. It'll heal."

Tears spring to your eyes and you close them. "Don't call me that. You left me."

"I'm sorry. It's the worst mistake I ever made."

More tears pool. Your voice shakes. "They did awful experiments. They—I'm not normal anymore. An' I'm so angry."

"I know, sweetheart," he murmurs. "I know. 'M so fuckin' sorry. I'll kill 'em. When I find 'em, I'll hunt down every single one that did this to you."

"You just came back because I'm a case to solve," you say. Your vine is slipping. You want Jason to hold you instead.

"I came back because I missed you and because I wanna help you. It was a mistake to leave."

"What if this is how I am? Permanently?" you whisper. It's been in your head since you were lucid enough to realize what they did to you in that lab. What your attackers called a blessing feels more like a curse. And it might not ever go away.

"Then we'll go on from there," Jason says. His hand goes from your hip to your face. He strokes your cheek.

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

Your vine thins out and slackens completely. Tiny, red flowers bloom as Jason pets you. You quickly retract the vine, hot with embarrassment.

Jason graciously doesn't say anything about it.

"I wanna go home," you confess.

Jason nods. "I got you. Let's go home."

[aviiarie]

Hiiiii, if you don't mind, can I please ask for something romantic with Blade in a soulmates au? Being his soulmate seems like such a doomed concept, lol

“𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄.” — feat. blade.

synopsis. you are blade's soulmate. and you pay the price for it, over and over again.

✦ contents. tw: slightly graphic blood & violence, and a lot of death. soulmates au. gn!reader. angst, no comfort. slightly open-ended. 1.8k words.

✦ notes. requested by anon for my event! i saw the words 'soulmates' and 'doomed' and didn't think twice. um this kind of ends on a cliff-hanger? or unsatisfyingly at least. that was intentional btw. idk how happy i am with how it turned out though.

The day Blade met you for the very first time, was the day you bled out in his arms. 

You were a stranger; a forgettable face, amidst a sea of even more forgettable faces. There was no reason for him to care when he heard your scream, cutting across the battlefield like a siren. The sound melted into the clamour of scraping metal and wounded cries, as easily as a single note of a flute disappears within a symphony.

And yet, it made him pause. 

His own sword was slick with blood, having already carved a gruesome path across the battlefield. There were bodies at his feet–some still wheezing out their final breaths, others already gone–but it was you who caught his attention. The cry was harrowing, rendering every other noise forgotten.

The haze in his vision began to clear, the mara loosened its hold, and for the first time in a while he felt something odd: clarity.

A strange, prickly sensation settled a layer beneath his skin, urging him to go, find them, help them, help them, help them. It was as if his limbs were tied with puppet strings, forcing him into a run towards the source of the scream. All around him, the fighting continued, but no one paid him any mind as he tore through the battle.

He found you on the other side of the field, lying on the grass with a closed fist pressed to your side. An arc of red dripped from your fingers to the ground, forming a sickly puddle under your shredded armour. As he fell to his knees by your side, compelled by something he couldn’t properly describe if he tried, you looked up and met his eye, mouth falling open.

“Oh…” You murmured, gazing at him like he was an angel. “Oh… oh, I didn’t know… it’s you.”

Blade’s throat tightened, as he glanced between your watery eyes and the wound you were holding. He didn’t understand it; he was a witness to death more times than he could count, the source of it in many instances. There was no reason for your death to be any different, so why did he feel like he was going to throw up?

“It’s you, isn’t it?” You choked up, tears welling in your eyes. The sight made him sick. “Soulmate?”

Soulmate. A foreign concept, but one he was acquainted with. It was intertwined with Destiny itself, written into the scripts that ‘he’ pored over so obsessively.

“Soulmate?” He croaked out. You smiled weakly, reaching out your free hand to touch his cheek.

“Soulmate,” You agreed, moving to rest your palm on his chest, right over the spot where his heart was pounding. “You feel it too, don’t you? The… the feeling pulling us together?”

He did. All of the puppet strings–destiny, fate, or whatever they were to be called–were pulling him towards you. Blade nodded stiffly, and you breathed out a wheezing laugh.

“S-So that’s it, then…” You sighed, releasing your hold on your wound and letting your arms fall loose like a ragdoll. Without your fist blocking his view, Blade could see just how bad the injury was. “I’ve always wanted to meet you. I was scared I was going to die before I did. But… I guess this is fine…”

“No…” Blade murmured, every sense in his body screaming at him to save them, help them, soulmate, soulmate, soulmate. “No… you can’t die. Not when I’ve just met you.”

It’s a laugh that you responded with, but the sound was bittersweet. “I don’t think I have a choice.” 

“No!” Blade’s voice was desperate. “No, no. There has to be another way.”

“Meet me again, okay? In the next life…” You coughed weakly, blood dribbling down the corner of lips and down your chin. Blade gently wipes away the streak of red, brushing his thumb over your cheek. “B-Buy me flowers… take me out for dinner... and we’ll try again.”

“No…” Blade mumbled. He tugged you into his arms, so you were practically splayed out across his lap. Another cough worked its way past your lips, and he pulled you even closer. “Please…”

“Next time…” You breathed out. Your chest rose and fell with every breath stuttered out, slowly and weakening, until it stopped altogether. 

—

When Blade meets you again, you are not a soldier. Your face has changed, as well your hairstyle and attire, but the insistent tug in his chest is the exact same feeling he felt all those years ago. Even in a crowded town square, on a planet he couldn’t remember the name of, the outline of your soul glows in his mind, shining like a beacon.

He stops in his tracks, scanning the shops and stalls on either side to find some trace of the soul he sensed. You were so close, he could practically reach out and grasp your hand, and yet he couldn’t quite pinpoint where.

There.

He broke into a run, his mission left far behind as he followed his instincts. They pulled him through the crowd, by shopkeepers and civilians that grumbled as he pushed past, leading to a cozy flower stand at the end of the street.

You look up at his approach, almost dropping the flowers in your hands. Your mouth is agape, and your eyes are teary, but there is familiarity staring back at him.

“Oh, it’s you. I was wondering when I would meet you,” You laugh, and Blade’s heart soars.

It’s a blur, the conversation that follows. He learns your name, and he learns you are nothing more than a merchant selling flowers. Quietly, he is grateful for the humble life you seemed to be leading. It was nothing like your previous self, in all your bloodstained, armour-clothed glory, and he couldn’t be more thankful.

“Tell me about yourself, though.” You finally pause your rambling, smiling with flushed cheeks. “I’ve talked about myself enough. What about you?”

“I…” Blade trails off, considering what he could say. His life was one that was long and wrought with destruction, and you were a perfectly unblemished flower, whose petals would crumple under his touch. Seeking you out was selfish enough, letting you carve his place in your life would only taint it.  

“I am unimportant. You’d best not be concerned about who I am.” Blade says simply, moving slightly away, so you were out of his reach. “I need to leave.”

You frown, stepping closer. “That’s not fair. Don’t I get to know your name, at least? Soulmate?”

“You may call me Blade,” He says, without any more explanation. “I must be going.”

“W-Wait!” You call out, breaking out of your stupor to catch his sleeve. As he turns, you press a delicate white lily into his hands. “Take this. When it wilts… find me again, and I’ll give you a new one.”

Blade stares at the flower, running a thumb down the stem and over the soft petals. It is dainty, fragile. In his hands, it would only be ruined.

And yet, he tucks it into his sleeve anyway.

You smile at him as he leaves, something sad in your eyes that he doesn’t have the heart to unravel. As he turns his back, he can still feel your gaze on his retreating form, watching as he disappears into the street.

It ends, predictably.

He is a half-second too late, feeling the drop in his stomach a moment before he sees your body fall to the ground. He lunges forward, falling by your side. The assailant–masked, armed, and a damn coward–is already running. 

“No,” He mutters. There are hot, angry tears in his eyes, threatening to spill over. It was only a week after he saw you for the first time, but he’d been keeping his distance, hoping if he stayed far enough away he could spare you from misfortune. But fate is cruel, and it tips back its head and laughs as he crumples over your body.

A part of him is screaming to run after your attacker, to spill his organs all over the pretty paved streets, just as he has spilled your blood over them, but the idea of leaving your side hurts. 

“Stay with me,” He begs, holding onto your wound, as if there was any way to staunch the bleeding. It was no use, the blade had pierced your chest too precisely. If you weren’t already gone, you would be soon.

You shakily clasp your hand around his wrist, mumbling out a few words. “See you–See you next time, Blade.”

—

It carries on in a similar manner, for the next few centuries. Every lifetime Blade finds you (he stops counting, after a while), and it ends the same way. After a while, all of the lifetimes blur together, until he can barely tell which is which.

In some, you are a warrior as violent as himself. In others, you are an artist. In some, he finds you, and in others, you find him. The only common thread, the one thing that connects every one, is your inevitable demise.

He stops trying to seek you out. When he feels the tug on his chest, he ignores his instincts and walks the other way, hoping to let the memory of you fade, so you may live your lives parallel to each other; close, but never meeting. Somehow, you manage to find him every time anyway, and before he knows it, his vow to keep his distance is tossed aside.

This time though, he doesn’t even get a chance to meet you. 

He feels you again–the phantom pull, the burning in his soul–and all thoughts of his mission are forgotten. The feeling of his sword is heavy in his hands, but it is nothing compared to the sinking in his chest.

Something was wrong.

This time, he doesn’t wait. He does not pause, he doesn’t think about the way he will be reprimanded for straying from his target. He only thinks of you.

The thought leads him through a massacre, decorating the cobbled streets with crimson. The path itself is pathed with bloodshed, littered with corpses in various states of dismemberment. The longer he walks, the more it becomes clear that he isn’t looking for a person this time; he is looking for a body. There is no life he can sense around him, but your connection–feeble, and waning as it may be–urges him forward. 

Finally, it stops him right before one.

The sight of your corpse, as mangled and gruesome as it may be, no longer fazes him. He stands, pausing long enough to pay his respects, before retreating with a heaviness in his steps.

He will meet you again, in the next life.

🏷️ taglist: @tragedy-of-commons, @mollzaj, @mikashisus, @starcharmed.

© aviiarie 2024. do not copy, repost, translate or use my work to train ai

[mandatory-ftmbreeder]

Some people have been asking so here’s the story of how i had a threesome with myself (trans guy), my boyfriend (cis guy), and our new fwb who is a divorced single father of 3 (cis guy) tldr; i understand why this guy has 3 kids cuz i would also let him put a baby in me again and again.

FOR REFERENCE: Single father = D, my bf = P.

I was traveling all day on the 28th (had TWO flights to get back to where i live) and i didn’t get home till 1 am. But thankfully D was still up to meeting up with us despite the late hour and we got to his house at 2 am.

We walk up to his front door and I can see this man is watching freaking heroes of the storm gameplay on his tv, he opens the door and is wearing a onesie lmfao. We walk in, its a small but very cozy house with a large couch. I sit on the couch in the middle with D to my left and P to my right. We talk about random video game shit for a bit, glance thru his tv and put on a random anime episode. During this my bf is cuddled up to my side and I’m moving my leg closer to D till its pressed against his.

D gets up to get water and my bf whispers to me that I should put my hand on D’s lap when i get back. D returns, it takes me awhile, but I eventually do put my hand on D’s thigh. It doesn’t take long before he’s doing the same to me. We talk a bit more like this, starting to rub each other’s thighs, we change the tv to 21 jump street, laugh at the stupid shit in the beginning, and then my bf starts encouraging me to put my hand on his dick. Slowly, I start to rub where I think D’s dick is and eventually I find it and shit. He’s already fully hard.

I’m also rubbing my bf’s dick with my other hand while I do this. Both of them are rubbing higher and higher on my thighs and D is rubbing my cunt through my shorts. I tug at D’s onesie and he opens it up for me and this man is FULLY naked underneath it. I grab his dick and start jerking him off. Bf tells me to return the favor and yanks off my shorts and boxers.

D gets down between my legs and starts eating me out with a passion. Clit sucking, lapping at my hole, going crazy. My bf takes off his bottoms as well and we end up in this triangle where D is eating me out, I’m jerking off my bf, and my bf is sucking D’s cock.

We move to the bed and I lick/suck D’s dick for a bit (but i have a small mouth and my jaw gets tired very easily unfortunately). Thankfully my bf LOVES sucking cock so my bf tells me to ride D’s face while he sucks D’s dick. We do this for a bit before I move down and start to ride D.

and holy fuck. Hooooly. Fuck. The moment this older man’s dick is in me I can tell I am in for a good fucking time. It fills me up so fucking good, stretches me and goes in me deep without hurting me (I’ve taken a dick way too big before that DID hit too deep and hurt me.) and even though I’m riding D, he’s also very actively participating and fucking right back up into me. Shit. It felt so good. I end up also slobbering all over my bf’s dick while D fucks my brains out and I bounce on it like a mindless slut. From this point onwards my brain is a mess because that dick renders me incapable of proper thought.

We fuck like that for awhile before my legs get tired so I lay on my back, legs spread open wide by D. And then D gets out this amazing huge powerful wand vibrator and thats when I know I am REALLY, REALLY in for a good time. Getting fucked by this man while a vibrator on my clit is so FUCKING GOOD. While this is happening sometimes I’m jerking off my bf or sucking his dick, or D is sucking his dick.

D decides to give my bf a turn fucking me. Bf mating presses me while I open my mouth wide and stick my tongue out and let D rub his cock all over my tongue and lips. I also suck on the tip and lick up and down it too. Moaning like a fucking bitch in heat. Doing this until my bf cums inside me.

Then we change positions again so I’m on my back, ass hanging off the side of the bed, while D stands up and fucks me. Back to using the vibrator again and this shit is fucking magical. And let me tell you all… D knows how to fuck. This man knows. how. to. fuck. He doesn’t hesitate to move me around however he wants, spreading my legs wide, folding me practically in half, yanking me closer to him so he can fuck me better. He puts his hand on my lower pubic area and pushes upwards so it pulls back the foreskin on my clit so i can feel the vibrator against it better AND HE DIDN’T EVEN HAVE TO ASK IF I WANTED IT. HE JUST KNEW IT WOULD FEEL GOOD FOR ME. (Probably because I clench really hard when something feels really good but yknow lol)

At this point we have to take a short 5 min water break (neither D nor I have cum yet, bf did cum and is just chilling) and my hair is literally WET and matted with sweat.

D and I go back to fucking in the same position. I end up taking control of the vibrator while he keeps fucking me. Bf is whispering naughty shit to me, telling me how much of a slut I am, how much I very obviously enjoy this, while D says how fucking tight and good my hole feels. D ends up cumming inside me and a few seconds later I’m able to make myself cum with D’s cock still in my cunt and holy. fucking. shit.

I screamed so loud my bf thought I was giving BIRTH. Listen, when I cum, I’m usually a quiet guy. I rarely make any noise and if I do its usually a few quiet whimpers. But this time… I genuinely could not fucking control myself and I was screaming LOUD. I wasn’t playing it up, I wasn’t faking it, that shit was from the SOUL. My orgasm is so fucking overwhelming it lasts a solid 45 seconds and i’m nearly screaming the entire time and my legs are shaking so hard D has to hold me up. Towards the end of my orgasm D pulls out of me and I can feel a thick string of cum leak out and go right down my entire ass.

My bf and I were literally laughing at each other after I finished orgasming like “um holy shit what the HELL was that???” girl idfk either.

And afterwards I felt very at peace with myself and so deeply satisfied all I could do was laugh and be sleepy till we got home and fell asleep.

Thanks for reading my sexcapade. Hopefully I’ll have more in the future with D to tell about later.

[thugbiscuits]

nsfw 18+ below the cut; MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED (DNI!!!)

(golden retriever) boyfriend!curly who’s been corrupted by j*mmy, and now goes hard in the paint .

or…

… curly fucks you dirty.

“you know im in charge right, baby?”

boyfriend!curly who’s got you pressed flat against the mattress in missionary, balls deep and whispering the filthiest things in your ear. it’s his favorite position, with your legs stretched around his waist and your little hands clawing at his forearms. he likes to watch you tighten around him in real time after he tells you how nasty of a girl you’ve been

you two have been at it for hours by this point. it started off as a regular evening. one where you two snuggled into each other on the couch, while recounting your day. he thinks it’s so cute the way you get animated when storytelling, and he tries his best to focus on you. he really does. but all boyfriend!curly is thinking about is what his friend said to him the other earlier.

when asked about what’s on his mind, boyfriend!curly reluctantly tells you jimmy said “girlfriends are supposed to submit to their boyfriends. a-and that they shouldn’t talk back”

the look in your face when you realize what his head has been pumped full of. the bottom of your stomach burned with a curious sensation of fear and ..arousal?

okay, maybe jimmy was into some weird shit, but not your precious Curly. Right?

“nuh uh,”

swat.

“use your words, darlin. say it like how I told you to.”

boyfriend!curly snakes his hand up your body until the big meaty paw clamps shut over your mouth to tamp down your moans while he pounds into you. the plush of his palm is firm up against your lips and all you can do is cry into it. tears well up in your eyes from just how deep he’s in you right now.

“shh, that’s right, that’s it”

Curly whimpers in your ear — in your ear.

His hot breath fanned across the side of your face in short huffs, the cool nudge of his pink lips against your cheek comes after. The sloppy thrusts of his hips meeting yours signaled that he was close. you can feel it in the way his dick punches deep in your pussy. grinding up against that gummy spot each time he pumps back into you.

boyfriend!curly was about to cum deep inside of you, but he needed you to come with him. Captain’s are supposed to take responsibility, right? Making sure that you get to the finish line or whatever.

“cum now or you won’t get to. now, baby, come for me now. ngh, yes like that!”

your orgasm beat like a pulse through your pussy all the way up your spine. rendering your body went limp as he continued to hump himself to his peak. each thrust was deeper than the last, making your wet pussy sounds resound off the walls.

best believe boyfriend!curly is apologizing to you afterwards. adding “was I too rough on you tonight, Darling? I know this ain’t our usual position.”

anyways 🙈…

[sanjisleggy]

the siren and the sun (ace x reader) [pt1]

a/n: here it is,, on 1st Jan 2025,,, the first part of my childhood friend!reader x ace series! :D i honestly have no concrete plan going forward but i’m rly excited to work on this so i hope you guys enjoy reading it as well <3

contents: fem!reader, descriptions of drowning, very pining!Ace, lowkey jealous!Ace, some angst, protective dad!Whitebeard

wc. 3k

wanna be on my taglist?

i. 

the salty ocean water was frigid, nearly sending your flailing body into shock purely from the sudden cold. as you struggled to keep your head above water, the waves crashed mercilessly against each other, leaving you as merely collateral damage.

you could faintly hear the cries of the boy you left home with. 

he screamed your name, his panicked voice intermingling with the sound of thunder and pouring rain. every now and then you could feel his calloused yet slippery hand brush against yours in a futile attempt to pull you aboard the tiny fishing boat you’d set sail on weeks ago.

you wake up with a start, body jolting upward as your foggy mind takes its time separating the dream of your past from your present. you feel the faint bobbing of the Moby Dick and realise your crew must’ve docked while you were still asleep. 

rubbing your sleepy eyes, you struggle to remember what Marco had told you last night–something about a rookie pirate crew causing trouble for Jinbei. however, before you can recall all the details, you hear a knock on your door.

“come in,” you groan as you crawl out of bed whilst your visitor swings open the door. speak of the devil, you think to yourself as the Phoenix himself greets you a good morning.

his was the first face you saw when you came to. the unfamiliar man was gentle and patient even when you tried your hardest to punch him in the face out of panic. you were in a room–an infirmary?–that you’d never seen before in your life with wires and tubes of all kinds attached to your body.

a simple glance down at your clothes made your face heat up when you realised someone must’ve changed them for you while you were unconscious. the shame of the revelation was short-lived, however, when the only door in the room swung open to reveal someone you never thought you’d meet in your whole life.

“there’s someone you might want to see,” your closest crewmate announces without any further elaboration. “i’ll wait for you in the infirmary.” Marco shoots you a smile before heading off, not bothering to wait for a response.

curiosity getting the better of you, you quickly wash up and change your clothes before exiting your room. your crewmates greet you good morning as you speed past them, your legs moving on autopilot towards the place you spend the most time in–second only to your own personal quarters. just a few steps away from the infirmary door, you hear muffled yelling followed by the deep toned voice you’d come to love and cherish.

before you stood Whitebeard himself, the strongest man alive. just his mere presence was enough to both render you speechless and freeze you in place as you stared unblinkingly up at the man who was so tall his head nearly brushed the ceiling. the first man you saw, meanwhile, simply stood in the corner of the room with his arms crossed, an oddly relaxed smile on his face.

“you’re lucky to be alive, little one,” Whitebeard said, his voice so deep you swore the entire room trembled. “we aren’t holding you captive so stop making a fuss. you may leave whenever you wish.”

“i have nowhere else to go.” you couldn’t help the tears as they welled up in your eyes, the shock of your near-death experience hitting you suddenly all at once. digging your fingers into your scalp, you hung your head and cried. “all i remember was falling out of the boat my friend and i were on during a storm. i don’t even know if he’s alive anymore. i don’t know what to do!”

the two men watched in silence as you sobbed but even then you could tell there was no judgement on their end. you felt no shame or embarrassment as you cried in their presence, only an odd sense of comfort.

“then be my daughter,” Whitebeard said simply, “and live your life as you wish.”

before you can even reach out your hand to grab the door knob, the entire door flies off its hinges. it shoots past your face, barely grazing your nose, and hits the deck railing before falling overboard entirely, hitting the sea below with a splash… and a sizzle?

your initial shock morphs into annoyance and anger, your heart clearly not pleased to be tested in such a way so soon after waking. you turn to face the infirmary doorway–now missing the whole door–and mentally prepare yourself to use your Devil Fruit ability in the case of an intruder.

a tall silhouette emerges from the smoke flooding the room but before you can see their face, you spot a ball of fire appearing where their hand should be. then, the person runs straight towards you.

“(Y/N)!” you hear some of your crewmates cry out in surprise as the intruder bodyslams you into the railing. the both of you still engulfed by the smoke exiting the infirmary, you’re unable to make out the stranger’s face as they reach out to grab your neck with their other hand reeled back, flames still dancing on their fingertips. gripping the hand that continues to grasp your throat, you struggle to pry yourself free.

“st–” you feel the familiar numbing sensation spread across your throat and tongue as you activate your Devil Fruit ability. however, before you can complete the command, the remaining smoke clears to reveal the face of your assailant and your eyes widen in recognition.

“Ace?” you gasp, your heart, already beating rapidly from the shock of the attack, races even faster. it pounds fiercely within the confines of your ribcage, almost threatening to burst free from your body entirely as you stare up at the boy you never thought you’d see again.

“you’re alive?” Ace murmurs, the flames wrapped around his curled fist dissipating into nothingness as he lets go of your throat quickly–as though you were the one set ablaze and he’d been burnt. “you’re alive!” he repeats breathlessly before he wraps his arms around you and buries his face into the crook of your neck.

you feel a wetness on your skin as the boy begins to tremble, hands gripping onto your clothes for dear life whilst he slowly sinks to his knees, pulling you down with him. you’re quick to return the hug, your teary eyes fluttering shut as you bask in the long-forgotten feeling of being hugged by Portgas D. Ace.

ii. 

you’re so pretty.

sitting cross-legged on your bed, Ace watches you silently as you move about your room, tidying up loose clothes and random belongings scattered about. seemingly too focused on cleaning up, you fail to realise how intently he stares. his eyes stay pinned to your face, occasionally trailing down to the rest of you but always going back to your face–the face he’d spent countless sleepless nights trying his hardest to never forget; the face that haunted him in his dreams.

he wanted badly to tell you how he felt. although, he considered himself lucky enough you hadn’t caught on yet yourself, considering how red his face must’ve looked–especially right now as he watched Luffy swing amongst the trees with you clinging onto his back.

his younger brother laughed with little restraint while you screamed, almost on the verge of tears; and yet you never asked to be put back down on the ground. all three of you knew how much you loved adrenaline rushes.

Ace simply watched as he laid on the grass, the upper half of his body propped up by his arms. it was a hot day on Dawn Island but he was mostly protected from the sun’s rays by the shade provided by the same trees his brother and you played on.

just then you’d let out yet another yelp of surprise–the result of a particularly sharp drop, courtesy of Luffy–and Ace swore his heart stopped for just a second. he’d felt his arms and legs twitch on their own accord, as though instinctively prepared to catch you if you fell.

“Ace?” your voice snaps him out of his reverie. it’s older now, just a bit more mature than how he’d remembered it. you look older, as well, though you hadn’t grown any much taller. he recalls how for the first few years of your friendship, you loved reminding him how much taller you were–only to watch helplessly as he easily outgrew you in your mid-teens. “Ace?” you call his name again, this time waving your hand in front of his face.

“yeah?” he blinks a couple of times as though grounding himself back to reality. you’re leaning over slightly now, face hovering close enough to his own that he can feel the faint wisps of your breath. Ace feels his own face grow warm and hopes you don’t think too much of it. 

“Pops said you can stay in my room so i asked Marco to lend me some of his old clothes in case you want to change into something else.”

“who says i’m staying?” the words slip out before Ace can even process their meaning. in all honesty, he wants nothing more than to be by your side again but the thought of pledging any kind of allegiance to Whitebeard makes his blood run hot.

“oh.” you don’t try very hard to hide the disappointment on your face and almost immediately Ace wishes he can take it all back. “sorry, i guess i just assumed you were going to join us.” you shoot him a halfhearted smile before turning to walk away to pick up some books you’d left scattered on the floor nearby.

us? when was the last time you and i were separate ‘us’s?

“(Y/N), i–” he tries to speak without thinking about what he wants to say, hoping only to somehow salvage the conversation.

“no, it’s fine.” you cut him off and Ace can tell from the tone of your voice that you mean what you’re about to say with full sincerity. “you have your own crew now, right? the Spade Pirates? i like that name.” you turn to look at him again, this time with a much less forced smile. “both you and Luffy always wanted to be captains so i understand.”

you can come with me.

“i’m here to kill Whitebeard.” 

“i know.”

“you’re not gonna try to stop me?”

“she doesn’t have to,” a third voice intervenes from the open door of your quarters. Ace’s head snaps sharply in the direction of the intruder, sparks already flying from his fingertips as he glares at who he recognises as the man who had apparently nursed him back to health.

Marco merely smiles at Ace before entering your room fully with an arm full of clothes. Ace watches as the older man stands close to you, even ducking his head slightly to say something just out of earshot. you reply with your own whispered murmurs, clearly not wanting Ace to listen in on any part of the conversation.

the thought alone makes his heart sink. he can’t remember the last time you’d left him out on something.

iii.

although he’s curious, Ace doesn’t bother asking Marco what he’d meant when he said you “didn’t have to” stop him. simply chalking it up to some vague attempt at subtly reminding him of the Whitebeard crew’s overwhelming manpower. much to his chagrin, though, he finds himself constantly presented with the opportunity to clarify his doubts with the crew’s doctor since it seems like you work closely with him.

“he’s following you around like a puppy,” Marco comments as the two of you make your way to the dining room with Ace trailing closely behind, his hand holding loosely onto the free-hanging excess of your belt. you simply laugh in response, shooting a quick glance at him before returning your attention to your crewmate. as much as he’s tempted to throw a punch at the older man for the perceived slight, he holds himself back for your sake.

“join me tomorrow. let’s set sail together.” his eyes shone brightly even under the cover of night. Ace grabbed your hands, engulfing them in his own larger ones as he pulled you closer. “we can start our own crew and you’ll be my first mate.”

your lack of response lasted for a minute that felt far too uncomfortable, so much so that he’d almost started second-guessing himself. maybe he’d assumed too much thinking you’d want to follow someone like him.

“what makes you think you won’t be my first mate?” you laughed, unaware of how with just a few words you’d lifted an enormous weight off his shoulders. “what if i wanna be captain? will you take back your offer?”

“i might consider it.”

“consider uninviting me?” you gasped in an exaggerated manner.

“nope. i might consider letting you be captain. no guarantees, though.” you knew he’d said it as a joke–which it was–but a small part of Ace knew, if it really came down to it, he wouldn’t mind being your first mate.

dinner is incredibly uncomfortable–for Ace, at least. for some reason you’d chosen to sit right across from Whitebeard himself while Marco opted to sit beside his captain and, thusly, directly across from Ace.

the first few minutes of eating go without any conversation with your table being the only one that remains completely silent. meanwhile, the rest of the crew that had chosen to also eat in the room instead of out on the deck go about chatting animatedly–at the very least, the endless noise makes for a good distraction from the fact that the man Ace so desperately wants to kill is sitting right in front of him.

“i hear you refuse to join my crew,” Whitebeard finally says, looking directly into Ace’s eyes with the calmness one would not find in a man speaking to his wannabe-assassin.

“i won’t need to join you once i kill you.” out of the corner of his eye, he sees you shooting him a look but he’s far too busy gritting his teeth and keeping it together to break eye contact. 

“very well,” Whitebeard chuckles heartily, “feel free to keep trying.” Marco smirks at his captain’s response and it takes all of Ace’s willpower not to start a fight right then and there. “in that case, though, i won’t let you share (Y/N)’s room.”

“Pops!” you whined in protest. “it’s fine, i trust Ace. he can stay with me.”

“there’s no way i’m risking my beloved daughter’s life. you may trust him but i don’t. not yet, at least.”

without considering that his actions might just prove Whitebeard right, Ace swings his fist at the older man as he lunges across the table. all he can see in that moment is red, his heart pounding his burning blood through the veins in his body.

“don’t tell (Y/N) what she can or can’t do,” Ace barks, “she was my friend before she became your daughter!” as his fiery fist nears Whitebeard’s face, the younger man takes a split second to realise no one’s reacting, not even the target himself.

“stop!” your voice rings out throughout the room but it sounds different somehow. though you said but a single word, Ace feels it linger in the air far longer than any noise should, the sound itself almost feeling as though it’s piercing his brain through his ears. the onlookers all wince in response but none of them look nearly as affected as he does.

it’s right then he realises: he can’t move. 

his now-extinguished fist remains midair, his knuckles just a few centimetres from Whitebeard’s nose, as his body stays frozen and lunged across the table. his mind is still clearly in his control, Ace can tell at the very least, but he’s physically unable to move at all. he screams at himself internally to do something, anything, to break free but it’s as though something somewhere deep in his subconscious is stopping him from doing what he wants. 

“release.” you command before Ace’s body slumps like a ragdoll onto the dining table, his face slamming directly into the aged wood. he hears the sound of ceramic and metal hitting the ground as he groans, suddenly feeling an overwhelming wave of exhaustion wash over him.

“i’m so sorry,” you say frantically as he feels your warm hands pull him off the table and back into a sitting position beside you. “you left me no choice, Ace.” with one hand cupping his face, turning his head to look at you, the other combs through his wavy hair and he nearly shudders from the feeling of your nails scratching his scalp.

as you continue to fuss over him, even going so far as to grab a few napkins to clean up his face and clothes, Ace remains in a daze. he can hear Whitebeard and Marco conversing from across the table but their words fly over his head as he keeps his eyes pinned on you. he still feels a tad breathless, though now he’s unsure if it’s because of what you’d done to him just a moment ago, or rather because you’re taking care of him.

Ace grabs the hand you have cupping his face and holds it there, basking in its warmth which used to be familiar. allowing his eyes to flutter closed, he nuzzles his face into your palm, uncaring of the stares undoubtedly being pointed his way. 

he realises, slowly, how much you’ve grown and changed. how different you are from the girl he grew up with; and yet everything about you still feels the same. the warmth of your hand, the way you smell, the inflections in your voice. feeling a pang in his chest, it dawns on Ace that, at some point, he’ll have to choose between his goal of killing Whitebeard and being with you. 

gen taglist: @irethepotato @i-reblog-fics-i-like @grierpilots @appalost @hyper-fic-ation @dressycobra7

series taglist: @captainportgasdace @mitskisaveme @graveyardsweethearts @vaniiiavengeance @stuckinmymind22

[levireblogs]

OHHHH MY GOD THIS IS BEAUTIFUL!!!!!! It's so moody, the pose is so well done, your lighting and shading and rendering has me so jealous. I'm in awe with how you drew the pattern of her dress, and all the wrinkles and folds, especially around that well drawn hand. The shoe shines!!!!! The mask details!!! Ytfxuxyyyxxyx!!

Doing this to your art:

in love with the idea of me, mount my head on a wall / sinful desires festering, under my pelt they crawl / so skin me, flesh me, tan my hide and render me preserved / my plastic eyes brimming with shame / remove the viscera containing deviance unheard / to be a girl is to be game

character by @weevildoing

other ver:

[kindred-spirit-93]

I KINDA CLEANED MY WINDOWS!!

its probably going to rain and render my efforts useless but idc its been bothering me for so long and today i did the bare minimum and im happy. i used wipes lol i can see dust lines but still. a win is a win

--

kinda going through it. i think its a quarter life crisis lmao (or half whos to say ;)) except its very chill. like milestones and relationships arent bothering me (all in good time im in no rush) and i dont feel like im behind or missing out on anything.

im just existing and trying to make it till graduation yk? im tired

skipped another class today lol (last one no promises tho) to go to the cafeteria again. im allowing myself to compromise bc i really am not feeling great. ofc theres no one but myself to blame for that lol but this aint about her. also social anxiety can go cry in the corner >:)

--

wearing my emotional support turtleneck lmao, ate a bite of yesterdays carrot cake (divine), my beloved honeybee plushie is within arms reach. im trying. and its progress

new year tomorrow so hopefully ill snap into it again and feel better after studying and ticking a few boxes. hopefully.

so many things i want to do. short term and long term. so little time and barakah these days. but we persist.

--

i love my patho prof so much. my uncle taught her during at some point and she worked with another uncle of mine for some time so she knows the family well. shes so wonderful and always keen to learn and help (conflict of interest who? im joking were all very professional which surprisingly is the opposite of the norm here. but thats an essay for another time)

yesterday after class she read and went through the physicians oath (fun fact theres a muslim version! and generally modern versions lol iirc the og hippocratic one was a bit wild) with us and its beautiful. i plan on printing it out and sticking it somewhere i can see.

anyway i think its important to keep the end goal (visibly) in sight bc its easy esp for me to get caught up in the minutiae of the every day and get overwhelmed, so its a good reminder for me to renew my intention every now and again, and to appreciate how far ive come :)

--

dont u hate it when ur upset or angry and then every inanimate object in existence conspires against u. like wtf are u doin. why are u unionising and why tf is it against me??? im on ur side u jerks >:'(

in ther news my baby cousin is the cutest lil man on the planet his shenanigans are always hysterical. yesterday he left all his toys to go play with the aubergines lmao. legos? nah we stacking tuna cans XD

--

my dads meeting a friend today so i asked him over lunch what [friends] phd was about since his bachelors is in arabic. like what research do u do in languages, and he said the master thesis was abt the sentence structure of the nabataean language (aramaic i think) and how it resembles arabic. and if thst isnt the coolest fricking thing idk what is

i love languages so much i really wish i could learn every langauge under the sun and read every book in existence. maybe in heaven lol. anyway i asked him if he could ask him to recommend me a book and he said he will :3

the 2 books i bought last year when we went to turkiye abt the ottoman empire sitting on my shelves collecting dust: this bitch

--

my hands are cold and im getting too lazy to type lol. thank u for reading this far, might post some class doodles today idk (my attention span these days is truly something scandalous)

hope ur all doing well! take care of yo selves, drink water or ill personally hunt u down, and enjoy da fireworks tonight!

"with alarm, your scholar" - kindred

[musical-attorney]

EISUYWIEHEJYEHEVHSISHSUG DUDE THE NEW ART IS SO 🩷🩷🩷🩷❤️💜🩵🩵🧡💛🩵💛🩵❤️💙🧡💜💛💜💛💜🩷🩷🩷🩷

AND CLAY HAS A HOURGLASS FIGURE LIKE DAMN!!! (Why did it take me so long to figure out that the black hair was Dhurke😭)

[dailypikminrenders]

pikmin 4 lineup render, 2023

[phpruitts]

Phoebe could stay like that forever— even though her couch was not particularly spacious, and they would maybe even need a blanket, or some water, eventually Phoebe was perfectly content to lay atop Rafael's chest until the ending of time.

It just felt so ... right.

He felt so right. Broad and warm and firm. He didn't mind how much Phoebe snuggled into him. If anything, Phoebe thought he might be equally cuddly as well. Rafael Dahar, kingpin of Las Vegas, stroked his hand along the length of Phoebe's neck, deposited a kiss atop the crown of Phoebe's head.

If she could have purred, she would.

'Oh, yeah,'

'It’s Christmas, isn’t it?'

Phoebe, still smiling to herself, manages a rather limp nod.

'That means it’s time for your gift. I should’ve given it to you as soon as I walked in,'

And then he's moving— shifting Phoebe from his body, gently, pulling up on the waistband of his pants before retrieving something from the coat he'd shed earlier. Oh, that was right. Raf had mentioned a gift before! He was already so fucking generous, he already owed her nothing, especially after his promise to come see her every day, but Phoebe would be lying if she said her heartbeat didn't skip a little when Rafael returns to the couch, a small white box clutched close to his abdomen.

There's a minute pause. Phoebe just smiles at him gently. Tucks a ribbon of hair behind her ear with a curious glance.

He extends the little box out to her, and Phoebe plucks it with a quirk of her lips, eyeing the rich crimson ribbon, the rounded white corners that obscured the shape of whatever was inside.

Hmm. It could be anything. Rafael could gift her a rock he found outside, honestly, and Phoebe would be content, but she tugs at the velvet of the wrapping, lifts the lid of the box with curious and, and there, nestled in the center is—

Oh.

Hmm?

"It's a key?"

Phoebe, rendered hazy and formless from their orgasm, stares down at the silver teeth of the key, the smooth black FOB that looked like a river stone.

She blinks. Blinks again. That was most certainly a key, was it not? But ... why would Rafael be giving her a key? And why would that key— very new looking, very pristine — have that circular logo on the handle of it? Phoebe was almost certain she recognized the symbol, a luxury one, but she most have been wrong, the apartment light was playing tricks on her, the late hour had her mind fogged and boggled.

A beat.

Why was Phoebe's hand shaking? And why, when she spoke, did her voice sound so wobbly and thin? Confusion compounds in her chest, and a smile stretches across her face, cautiously, carefully, the question obvious there in the pull of her lips. "...It looks like a car key, Raf."

It just— but it wasn't a car key. Of course it couldn't be a car key. Rafael was wealthy, yes, but Phoebe didn't deserve a car, and she certainly didn't deserve one from Rafael, of all people, who had already taken her to the nicest restaurants in the city, bought her wine, picked her up from the club and deposited safely at home without a single complaint, held her close and called her gorgeous. He'd given Phoebe, for the first time in her fucking life, a Christmas that felt beautiful instead of achingly lonely.

There was no way Rafael had given her a fucking car, because that was too good for Phoebe, and Rafael was too fucking kind to her. Another second passes. Her entire heart seems to flip.

One tear, two, three, plop from Phoebe's eyes and land heavily on her hand, and she swipes at it, hard, for a moment, before finally scraping up the courage to raise her head and look at Rafael in the eye, chin wobbling, lip trembling, brows knit together in disbelief.

Sometimes, after an intense orgasm, Rafael felt exhausted. He could just fall asleep. Tired and overexerted, but — this wasn’t one of those times. How could he sleep after all of this revelation? After all of their intimate declarations for one another? If anything, Rafael felt revitalized. Content. No — happy. Genuinely fucking happy.

Phoebe buried herself into Rafael’s chest, and he took the opportunity to place a hand on the nape of her neck. He rubbed there, very gently, feeling — well, a smile, pressed up against his chest. Rafael smiled, too. He couldn’t stop.

Rafael followed Phoebe’s gaze, over to the clock, which showed that it was nearing two in the morning. Wow. It was late. And he knew that his mother would want him there for breakfast on Christmas morning, but Rafael had already made the decision not to go. If mama knew, she’d understand. She’d encourage it, actually. Rafael wouldn’t miss the dinner.

"...Merry Christmas, Raf."

“Oh, yeah,” he replied. “It’s Christmas, isn’t it?”

He kissed the top of her head.

“That means it’s time for your gift. I should’ve given it to you as soon as I walked in,” he said.

As much as he didn’t want to remove himself from the couch, he wanted to give Phoebe her present. He’d been nervous about it. He wondered if it was too much. He remembered asking his friends for advice, in a very … vague manner.

‘Do you think this type of gift is too much for someone?’ He would ask.

And their responses were never really answers. They just interrogated Rafael, wondered who he was asking for.

“One second,” he told her. He gently slid out from beneath her. He pulled up his pants, leaving them unbuttoned, as he walked over to the coat that he’d draped near the front door. He reached inside of the pocket, pulling out a white box, adorned with a satin red bow. Rafael was embarrassed by how long he’d been holding onto that. A few weeks, at least. It hadn’t really been intended as a Christmas gift, but … it’d turned into one.

He’d been so nervous to give it to her, so worried that she might be offended, or take it the wrong way. There were no expectations with this gift. Honestly. He’d just wanted her to have it.

Rafael walked over, sat back down on the couch beside her. He reclined back on the couch, rolled his head to one side. He held the box against his stomach for a few short seconds, noting that he didn’t feel so nervous anymore. He only hoped that she liked it.

Finally, Rafael extended the tiny box to Phoebe.

Inside, Phoebe would find … a key.

A key to her new car.

A brand new white Mercedes GLE. If Rafael had coordinated this better, he could’ve had it parked out front, but. Well. He’d been waiting for the right time, and this part hadn’t been planned. It would be no issue, though. Rafael could have it parked out front by the time they both woke up.

Rafael didn’t like the idea of Phoebe being out in public transportation whenever he wasn’t available to pick her up or drop her off. He wanted her to have something reliable — something paid for. With no strings attached, of course. This was a gift, and he expected nothing in return.

If she decided to walk away from Rafael — well. It didn’t matter. The car was still hers. Totally paid for. It had insurance on it. The registration had been paid for. Everything.

And he’d continue paying for all of it. Any future expenses. It was part of the gift.

“Merry Christmas, Phoebe.”

[killjoy-prince]

A kiss from Death

[carehounds]

Sure hope so, Girl.

[lucydoodlessometimes]

so... child soldiers, huh?

[prostocupoftea]

Guys i made it

i put him in blender

My dummass kinito shape design was too hard to draw so now he is menacingly A-posing in my .blend file

I will need to rig him and then i can make him do silly dances. Jk mostly posing

Also i think i'll draw eye on him by hand in each frame just so that he'd have that vibe of... idk, my sufferings maybe ? but i think that could look cool

Anyway, he is stupid, i love him, i hope you do too