#also it's annoying the shit out of me that all of the renders are from the gondola ride except chica's which is from that fye fizzyfaz

[beepborpdoodledorp]

my pookie shmookies, my scrunkly bunklies, dare i say my blorbo morblos

Reference:

[softgrungeprophet]

gotta say, i'm def way more willing to—not overlook but tolerate—some (keyword: some) blatant cheesecake or Sex Appeal™ in comics when the artist has a certain level of technical skill and/or strong compositions (ie Bachalo or Ramos) vs like... artists who sacrifice page composition and readability solely to draw cheesecake and thus actively sabotage their own sequential work (Sandoval...) especially the ones without the technical skill (... like the porn tracers who can't keep character appearance even sort of consistent...)

[blitzyn]

stop moving

re4r leon s. kennedy x m!reader

request: none

synopsis: After finding yourself stuck in a closet with Leon, you end up squirming just a little too much.

a/n -> i have fallen victim to the leon lover rabbit hole. ALSO. I FUCKING FRACTURED MY FINGER??? guys i almost cried when i had to write the word balls. </3 but thank you all for 1k followers! tbh i only started this acc because i liked the font when i wrote something in my drafts lmao. but still! it means a lot to me and im happy to have gotten this far!

wc -> 2.5k

cw -> thigh fucking, hiding in a closet, spit as lube, handjob (r receiving), pet names (baby x2, sweetheart x1), he's kinda possessive tbh, not beta read

This was supposed to be relatively simple: get in, figure out where the president's daughter was, save her, then get out. Sure, you've seen your fair share of weird shit — especially after the outbreak in Raccoon City, but finding out that there was a whole religion dedicated to spreading a plague for the sake of taking over the world definitely takes the cake. For now, at least.

But finding yourself cramped in a closet with Leon, surrounded by a horde of hostile cultists, also wasn't something you expected to happen throughout the entire mission.

"Stop moving so much," Leon quietly muttered from behind you just as you shifted.

"I'm not," you huffed, a bit annoyed that you had to hide in this stuffy closet, even if you knew that you'd probably be dead by now if it weren't for your partner's quick thinking. Against his words, you adjusted yourself again, trying to find a decently comfortable position. Suddenly, you felt his hands on your hips and the warmth of his chest pressed to your back as he pulled you flush against him.

"I said, stop moving," he repeated, whispering in your ear. You held back a shudder at the feeling of his breath ghosting over the shell of it, stilling completely in surprise. Just then, thunderous footsteps could be heard outside the closet; slowly, listening for any sound that might reveal where the two of you hid.

You tensed and instinctively backed up to further yourself from the perpetrator, even if there wasn't much room to move to begin with. You could faintly hear Leon grunt from behind you, but you were in no position to apologize at the moment. Your eyes were glued to a crack in the old, wooden door, watching as the light shifted when the person passed by.

You waited with bated breath, hoping that it wouldn't come near. But, like some cliche horror movie, you could see the light at the bottom of the door disappear, meaning it was far too close for comfort. With every second the person stood there, the tighter Leon's hold on your hips became. The two of you went so silent your ears rang, and you were briefly afraid that it'd hear the sound of your racing heartbeat.

But after what felt like an eternity, its heavy footsteps started up again and away from the closet. You heaved a sigh of relief when the front door slammed shut, rendering the building empty once more.

"Fucking hell, sorry," you mumbled, trying to shuffle forward and give Leon his space when you realized that he hadn't let go of you yet. "You okay?"

Using the dim light that filtered through the cracks in the door, you lifted your arms a bit and curiously peered at his hands. But that's when you noticed the black lines covering his arms. Upon closer inspection, you quickly realized that they were his veins.

"Christ, Leon, what—"

"Be quiet. Just—just for a second."

You found it hard to tear your eyes away from his arms, waiting in silence. You focused on the sound of his labored breaths, biting your tongue to keep yourself from questioning him even further. Your mind couldn't help the invasion of 'What happened?' and 'What is that?' that threatened to spill from your lips. How did you not notice this earlier?!

You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt him rest his forehead on your shoulder, muttering and grunting under his breath. And that's when you felt it — the reason why he was so reluctant to move just yet: he was hard.

"Oh." You couldn't help it, even if he had already told you to shut your mouth twice already. The silence from then on was painfully awkward as the two of you tried to figure out what to say. With a deep breath, you miraculously found the courage to speak up.

"Do you... Can I help you?" You offered, remaining still to keep yourself from accidentally pressing yourself up against him again. It was silent while you waited for his reply, embarrassment wriggling its way through your chest the longer the two of you kept quiet.

"I mean, you don't have to accept, you can just ignore me—" you began to ramble on, mortified that you even asked the question. "I just thought, cause, like, it'll be hard for you to—shit, I didn't mean it like that—"

"[Name]," Leon interrupted you, finding your instant silence charming in its own way. You could hear him take a deep breath in just as his hands slid further up to firmly caress your waist and abdomen. Electricity shot down your spine and pooled in your gut when he tugged you closer to him, grinding himself against your ass. "You can."

He reached for your hand and brought it behind you, placing it directly onto his cock. You gave it a tentative squeeze, savoring the quiet grunt that came from him, feeling your confidence grow by the second. You heard the gentle jingling of his belt as he undid it just enough for you to dip your hand underneath the waistband of his pants and boxers.

"Not wasting a second, huh?" Amusement and lust were laced in his voice as he spoke, a quiet moan spilling from his lips soon after.

He was hot and thick in your hand, throbbing rhythmically. You swiped a finger over the tip that beaded precum, savoring the shudder that came from his body. His hips trusted up into your fist, seeking more, and you were more than happy to oblige.

With a steady pace, you moved your hand up and down, tracing the prominent veins. You felt your own cock twitch at the sound of Leon's breathy groans and sighs, but you ignored it in favor of getting him off.

"Fuuckk," he drawled out, leaning forward to press his lips on the side of your neck. "You're good at this. Makes me think you've done this typa thing before."

"No," you responded, gently rubbing the spot on the underside of the tip. "You're the only one."

"I get the special treatment?" He muttered teasingly, his breath hot against your skin. "Must be my lucky day."

He could feel his body buzzing with adrenaline as he peppered open-mouthed kisses on the side of your neck, untucking your shirt to slide a hand up your torso to pinch and toy with a nipple. His free hand traveled lower, slipping his cold fingertips underneath the waistband of your pants, but refused to go further than that.

You could feel his lips curl in a subtle smirk, but even as you realized he was teasing you, testing your patience, you had no intention to retaliate. Christ. The hold this man had on you. It was downright pathetic.

"God," he started, pressing his palm flat on your chest to bring you closer to him—eager for more of your touch. He let his teeth gently scrape against your skin, threatening to bite—to mark you, but he forced himself not to. He couldn't. Not right now. "I want to fuck you so bad."

His words were breathless, borderline desperate, as they left his lips. He couldn't help but thrust his hips up into your fist, pushing and pushing until your hand was flush against your ass, keeping you from jerking him off as he rutted against your hand.

"We can't, Leon," you muttered, disappointment lacing your voice. As much as you'd love to have him inside you, fucking you deep, you knew you couldn't. Not when the Ganados were still outside, at least. "Just let me finish you off."

Leon let out a low growl, knowing that you were right. There were a lot of things the two of you couldn't do inside the confined space of the closet, forcing him to conjure up ideas of what he wanted to do when all of this was over.

But for now, he settled on the second best option: your thighs.

"I know," he murmured, breathing in deeply as he pulled your hand away from his throbbing cock. "Then let me fuck your thighs. I'll be quick, I promise."

You mulled over his words, unsure if it would be a good idea.

"Please, baby," he pleaded, his voice heavy with lust. "Just this once. Then, when we find Ashley and get the hell outta this place, I'll make sure to fuck you properly. Nice 'n hard 'n deep. Wouldn't you like that?"

Fuck it.

"Mhm, yeah, go ahead." You relented, knees weakening at the thought of having his thick cock inside you, stretching and filling you up perfectly.

"Atta boy," he buried his thumbs underneath your pants and boxers, pulling them down to let them drop to your ankles. "Knew you'd come around."

He groaned at the sight of your bare thighs and drooling cock, running his hands along the curve of your ass to lean back and spread it, focusing his gaze on your asshole. "Fuck," he hissed. "Can't wait to feel your tight little hole around me later. Gonna fill you up with my cum, make you mine."

Arousal sank in your stomach like a rock as your hole clenched around nothing. Whatever's coursing through his veins made him more impulsive, more desperate, but with the fog that clouded your thoughts, you hardly found it in you to mind.

He spat on his cock and moved a hand away from your body to briefly jerk himself off and smear the saliva around.

"Open up, baby," he instructed as soon as he was done, raising his hand to caress your hip. "Spread your legs a little."

Like a trained puppy, you obeyed, widening your thighs just enough to let him guide his hard cock in between them. Your breath hitched at the sight of the head peeking out, squeezing your legs around him just a bit tighter.

"Jesus fuck, [Name]," he groaned, leaning forward to press his chest against your back. He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close to him. Through the hazy mess that was in your mind, you found comfort in the warmth and firmness of them as you placed your hands on his forearms for some sort of stability. "That's it. Squeeze me just like that."

You could feel every twitch and throb, and you were sure he could feel yours, too. It felt like your senses were on overdrive as you listened to your labored breaths, his pleased sighs and grunts, and the slick sounds of his cock sliding in and out of your thighs. He set a leisurely pace, rocking his hips back and forth.

"Shit..." He hissed, speeding up his thrusts as his dick rubbed against your balls, smearing his makeshift lube across your skin.

His hips met yours with quiet slaps, making sure to keep the noise level at a minimum despite the overwhelming urge to just bury himself inside you right then and there. He mouthed at the nape of your neck, tasting the salt of your skin, gently pressing his teeth down hard enough to send sparks down your spine.

His fingertips pressed into your sides so firmly it hurt, but it only served to mix in with the desire that burned brightly in your belly. He fucked your thighs with a sense of urgency, as if trying to satiate a hunger deep within his subconscious—not that you minded.

He grunted and groaned with every thrust, tightening his arms around your waist to tug you back to him whenever your hips jolted forward. It was intoxicating; the way he so effortlessly turned your body into a sensitive mess left you wanting more.

But as soon as a strong hand wrapped around your aching cock, you nearly came on the spot. One of your hands left Leon's forearm to slap it over your mouth as you tried to keep yourself from moaning too loud.

He breathily chuckled beside your ear. "Is this what you wanted?" He rhetorically questioned, swiping a finger over the leaking head so perfectly it left your skin tingling. "Tell me, sweetheart."

"Ohh, fuck," you hissed. It was embarrassing how you so eagerly responded to his touch. "Yeah, th-that's it...!"

Your eyes fluttered shut, focusing on the feeling of his slick cock moving in and out from between your thighs. Your lips parted from behind your hand to let out quiet pants and moans, digging your nails into his forearm the closer you got to your orgasm.

"Oh god, Leon—!" You moaned, pressing yourself further against his back. You could feel your legs faltering, but he didn't seem to mind having you rely on him to stand up.

"I know, baby, I know," he muttered, his voice tight and strained as his thrusts gradually grew sloppy and weak. "Me too."

His cock pulsed and twitched, and he can't help himself from clamping his teeth over the side of your neck this time. It wasn't hard enough to draw blood, but it left a noticeable bite mark that dully ached.

"Come on, baby, cum for me," he instructed, and you had no choice but to comply.

With a muffled moan, you arched your back and finally came as ropes of your semen coated the dusty wooden floor and Leon's fingers. He stroked you until he was sure that you were spent before letting go to chase after his own release.

"Shit," he cursed, breathing heavily. "I'm gonna cum so... so fucking hard...!"

With a strained groan, his hips jerked erratically as he came, holding you tight enough to leave bruises. You gently rub your thighs together, helping him ride out his high. It wasn't until a few moments later did he finally stop, breathing hard against your neck as he calmed down. But that's also when the clarity kicked in.

"Oh, fuck," he muttered, moving his head from you. "I'm sorry, I don't know what happened—I just—" he apologized, sighing in defeat a moment later.

"It's fine," you replied, patting his arm. You had to suppress a shudder when he pulled away from your thighs. The cum that ended up on the insides of them quickly cooled, leaving an uncomfortable sensation on your skin. You were just gonna have to suck it up.

"Let's just get outta here, already." You shuffled forward a bit to tug your pants back up your legs while Leon composed himself.

"Yeah," he said, pressing an arm against the dusty, wooden door. Through the dim light, you could see that his veins were no longer visible again, but that thought was going to have to hold off until later. "You ready?"

"Yup." You nodded after briefly making sure you still had everything in place.

Without further thought about what happened just a few seconds ago, Leon pushed the door open and quickly left the closet as you trailed close behind. Now, it was back to work.

[cleo-fox]

Close Quarters

Part 1 of 2

Summary: “You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

Your job, as it turns out, is to go undercover at a luxury resort.

The only problem? Your fake husband is Loki Laufeyson—the infuriatingly handsome Norse god turned Avenger who delights in making you flustered. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Warnings: Smut, 18+ (Minors DNI), dirty talk, praise kink, fingering, elevator sex, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, a hint of dom/sub, Dom Loki.

A/N: there will be a part 2. Also have a handful of related one shot ideas, so if people like this, I may post those. This is also posted on AO3.

Your self-sufficiency has always been a point of pride for you, both personally and professionally. The highlight of your career was overhearing Nick Fury say that he didn’t need to send in a team of people for a mission so long as he had you on the payroll. You are calm, competent, and ruthlessly efficient; you are used to relying only on yourself.

So it comes as something of a surprise when Fury informs you that Loki Laufeyson will not only be accompanying you on this undercover mission, but will also be taking the lead.

It takes a lot to render you speechless these days, but this does it. You gape at Fury for a moment before you’re able to speak.

“You never send me in with anyone,” you say.

“This mission requires a unique skillset.”

You scoff. “He can’t do anything that I can’t.”

Fury raises an eyebrow and folds his arms across his chest. “Really? How’s your conversational Sokovian?”

There’s, of course, no argument to be made with this. Your lips press into a thin, hard line. “I still don’t like it.”

“You don’t have to like it,” says Fury, “you just have to do your job.”

*

Your job, as it turns out, is to play the part of Nina Pine.

Nina Pine is bubbly and vivacious, the sort of person you’d see in the society pages. She wears designer clothes and owns jewelry that is so ostentatious and expensive that it looks like it must be fake. She is not particularly bright or talented; she is the product of good luck and generational wealth.

Three weeks ago, Nina married Jonathan Pine, who she met six months ago at the home of a mutual friend. Jonathan does something in finance that sounds like it’s just a tarted up version of gambling, but with more complicated rules and less oversight. It is Jonathan’s higher tolerance for risk (and healthy trust fund assets) that has him considering an investment in KorolCo, a company owned by Ivan Litvinchuk. Litvinchuk uses KorolCo as a front to launder money from illegal arms deals.

Loki would be going undercover as Jonathan. Your new husband.

You are not particularly happy about this little detail (a detail that Fury mysteriously failed to mention when you met with him), in no small part because Loki has already started leveraging it to annoy the shit out of you.

“How are you already this annoying when we’re still in prep?” you say after a particularly exasperating meeting.

“I’m simply overcome by my love for you,” says Loki with a cloying faux sincerity that makes you yearn for the sweet release of death.

Fury, you note, is suspiciously unavailable during all of this. After ignoring three of your (admittedly lengthy) emails on the subject, he sends you a frustratingly short reply:

Do your job, Agent.

Maybe you’ll take up meditation.

If there’s a bright side to what appears to be a massive clusterfuck in the making, it’s that you’ll at least get a free vacation of sorts

The mission will be taking place at The Indigo, an absurdly expensive and exclusive hotel on a private beach not far from La Jolla Cove. The Indigo is the sort of place that you’d only read about—the kind of hyper exclusive resort that is only ever mentioned in damning Pro Publica reports about the questionable actions of high ranking public officials. Rooms start at fifty thousand a night and you are staying in one of the suites, which likely costs more. Your room information was included in your briefing materials and it all sounds too good to be true: a soaking tub and waterfall shower. Private terrace with an infinity pool. Private bar. In-suite chef and spa services by appointment. Ocean view.

One Norse god who delights in irritating you (non-negotiable).

You suppose you’ll try and make the best of it.

*

The first problem is your sleeping arrangements: there’s only one bed. Granted, it’s a big bed, but still—it suggests a level of intimacy that you had not thought about and are not at all prepared for.

“Well, Agent, this isn’t how I envisioned taking you to my bed, but I suppose it’ll have to do,” says Loki on your first evening there.

You chuck a pillow at him, which he easily dodges.

“Keep it up and you can magic yourself a pillow and sleeping bag and sleep in the hall,” you say.

“Even if that were an appropriate accommodation for someone of my rank and title, I rather think it would do some damage to our cover.”

He has a point and you don’t like it. You decide to ignore him and start getting ready for bed.

The pajamas that had been packed for you are a little fancier than what you’re used to—satin and lace instead of cotton tees and shorts. Normally, you’d relish the opportunity to feel a little fancy—it’s an unexpected indulgence, a splurge on the company dime.

But with Loki now thrown into the equation, you are suddenly hyper aware of the fact that the fabric will likely cling to your curves, that the hem of the skirt is just a little too high. You choose the most demure one of the lot—a pale rose colored thing hemmed with lace—and head to the bathroom to change.

Even with the matching robe, you still feel a little awkward and oddly nervous. You avoid looking at Loki—if his gaze is lingering on your legs or your hips, you don’t want to know about it right before you hop into bed with him—and go about your normal routine. You manage to have a relatively normal conversation about your plan for tomorrow and you read a couple chapters of your book before you start to drift off.

It’s a king sized bed with plenty of room, but somehow you wake up perched near the edge of the bed with Loki pressed up against your back.

He’s got one arm wrapped around your waist so that you’re pinned against him and the deep, even breaths brushing against the back of your neck tell you he’s still asleep. You’re pretty sure this must have been unintentional on his part: Loki doesn’t seem like the sort to willingly allow himself to be seen seeking out human contact. It’s too vulnerable, too soft for the sharp and sarcastic veneer he presents to the world.

He shifts slightly in his sleep, his grip on you tightening. Something hard pokes against the curve of your ass.

You can’t help the responding ache between your legs. You should feel embarrassed—and you do, just a little—but there’s a competing feeling of warm curiosity that makes you press your thighs together. It’s been a while and you miss being held like this. The silk of your nightgown is cool and slippery against your skin, and you feel oddly restless and alert despite the early hour.

You should put a stop to this—that is the professional and sensible thing to do. So you carefully lift his arm from your waist and gently extricate yourself from his embrace. You pad to the bathroom, leaving the light off to spare your eyes.

In the bathroom, you run the tap as cold as it will go. You cup your hands and drink before splashing some water on your face in an effort to quell the restless heat building between your thighs.

It doesn’t really work. You’re not entirely surprised—if you were by yourself, you would simply take care of it, but that’s obviously not an option now. Out of curiosity, you slip your fingers between your thighs to assess the state of things and you immediately regret it: you’re soaked and just the feeling of your index finger glancing against your clit is enough to undo the admittedly minimal effect of the cold water.

You splash your face again and shut off the tap, taking a few deep breaths and smoothing your hands against your hair.

You exit the bathroom and slide back into bed. Loki reaches for you in his sleep and you are only half surprised when you let him wrap his arms around your waist and pull you to him. The throbbing ache between your thighs intensifies and before you can think about it, your back is arching and your breath is hitching.

He pulls you closer and suddenly his breath is warm on your ear. “You know, if you wanted me, all you had to do was ask,” he says, his voice deep and smooth, only a little husky with sleep.

“This is a bad idea,” you say, even as your back arches again and you press yourself against him.

Lips press against where your neck and shoulder meet. “But you want it.” His fingers toy with the hem of your nightgown. “Yes?” he asks, his voice husky against your ear.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Agent.”

“Yes. Please.”

“Agent.”

Your eyes flutter open. Loki is standing at the foot of the bed, hair wet, and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“It’s eight o’clock,” he says. “You need to shower and dress if we’re to make it to breakfast on time.”

It takes you a moment to process this information. Partly because he just woke you up from a sex dream about him and partly because wearing only a towel should be fucking illegal when you look like that. You try to keep your eyes trained on his and not let them drift to his flat stomach where you can see a faint smattering of chest hair that gathers in a line that trails directly to his cock. And definitely not to any of the muscles that are on tantalizing display and dotted by drops of water that are begging to be licked away. Nope. Not looking at any of that. Just at his devastatingly handsome face. 

Fuck.

“Agent?”

You shake your head. “Sorry. Bit groggy this morning. Finish up what you were doing and I’ll go jump in the shower.”

He gives you a bit of an odd look, but mercifully walks away without further comment. 

This gives you an opportunity to stare at his broad back as he walks away. Goddammit, even his ass looks good in that towel.

Fuck.

You have a feeling this is going to be a long week.

*

It’s only day one and it’s becoming clear to you that you are not really prepared for some of the practicalities of being Loki’s wife.

Specifically: being the primary focus of his flirtations and little gestures of affection. His hand on the small of your back, his fingers lacing with yours, the brush of his lips against the back of your hand or the shell of your ear—it’s all a little overwhelming in a way you don’t expect. It was one thing when he was razzing you in your prep meetings���he was quite clearly doing it to be irritating. But at The Indigo, he has to appear sincere for your cover and that particular detail makes it a different beast entirely. 

The fact that both his regular appearance and the blond-haired, blue-eyed glamor he’s adopted for the mission are both devastatingly handsome certainly doesn’t help. Nor does the additional baggage of your sex dream this morning.

Unfortunately for you, Loki quickly ascertains that he now has a great and novel way to fluster you. Equally unfortunate is the fact that he seems to find this as hilarious as he did back in prep meetings, which prompts him to be only more outlandish.

“Are you trying to sabotage this?” It’s later that afternoon and you’ve gone down to the pool with the plan of schmoozing with Litvinchuk and his associates. Loki has clearly decided that this needs to be more difficult than it is and has fully committed to the bit, as they say.

(You’ve also gotten very good at whispering threats under your breath and making it look like you’re flirting; the timing of this is not a coincidence).

“I don’t know why you’re so distraught about sunscreen,” says Loki, rubbing a generous amount between his palms.

“It’s not the sunscreen, it’s that you’re going to find some way to be inappropriate about it.”

“I’d never.”

“You are so full of shit.”

“You wound me.” He places his hands on your shoulders and begins rubbing in the sunscreen, going much slower than you think is strictly necessary. “Perhaps this trip is merely bringing out our natural chemistry.”

“You wish.”

“Is it the hair that does it for you, Mrs. Pine? Do you have a particular fondness for blonds?”

“Do you have a fondness for being murdered in broad daylight? Because that’s the fate you’re headed towards, buster.”

He tuts at you as his hands slide to the small of your back. “Temper, temper. You really need to work on that.”

“Have you considered working on not annoying the ever-loving shit out of me?”

His breath is suddenly warm against your ear. “Now where’s the fun in that? And before you answer, be advised that Tarasevich is looking right at us.”

Fuck. Tarasevich is the most suspicious and paranoid of the lot—years in the Sokovian mafia paired with recreational drug use will do that to a guy. You turn so that you’re facing Loki. He looks at you fondly, looking for all the world like a loved up newlywed just smitten with his new wife.

“One of these days, I’m going to drop kick you into the motherfucking sun,” you say in the sweetest voice that you can muster.

“Now, now, Mrs. Pine, let’s keep the foreplay in the bedroom.” He rests his forehead against yours, reaching up to stroke your cheek. “There’s such a thing as public indecency laws, you know.”

You sigh heavily. “Why are you like this?”

“Oh, because it’s so much fun.”

“Is he still looking?”

“Yes and I’m going to kiss you to put him off, so do try to contain yourself.”

“Oh, I’m sure I’ll manage.”

You catch a flicker of a smile before he leans in and brushes his lips against yours. You intend for this to be brief, but his mouth is so warm and inviting and before you know it, he’s gently coaxing your lips open and leading your tongue in a slow and seductive caress that has your mind drifting straight to the gutter.

His hand slides to your thigh and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it.

“Ah, Pine. Mixing business and pleasure, I see.”

You pull back from Loki to find Ivan Litvinchuk standing in front of you, wearing the smug, congratulatory smirk that you often see men like him trading with one another when they think they’re getting somewhere with a woman.

“Normally I try not to, but I’ve found it rather impossible these last three weeks, haven’t I, darling?” Loki takes the opportunity to loop his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, nuzzling your neck.

You give a good natured laugh. “You’re insatiable.”

“Oh, I don’t think anyone would fault me when I have such a tempting little wife.”

This, paired with the squeeze of his hand on your thigh, sends an unexpected rush of heat to your cunt. Fortunately, the effects of this are quickly tempered when you notice that Litvinchuk is eyeing you rather appreciatively. The wardrobe team has really outdone themselves with your clothes, but the swimsuits they’ve sent are definitely more revealing than you are used to—today’s choice is a bikini with a split sweetheart neckline that dips a lot lower than you’d like and a fucking underwire in the top. Underwire! The bottom is no better—it’s both low rise and high cut, the perfect way to ensure that half of your ass is exposed at any given time. Even in the matching translucent cover up—which of course you’ve left on the chair that Litvinchuk is standing in front of—you feel a little more bare than you’d like, a fact that Litvinchuk seems to be appreciating, if the path of his gaze is any indication.

“You’re a lucky man, Mr. Pine,” he says, his eyes flicking briefly to your cleavage.

You expertly tamp down your disgust and smile at Litvinchuk before turning around to bat your eyes at Loki.

“You are, aren’t you?” you say, twining your arms around his neck and planting a brief, chaste kiss on his lips.

He gives you a dazzling smile that’s so sincere it makes your stomach flip. “Very much so.”

Another squeeze of your thigh, more heat to your cunt. Fuck.

“Well, Pine, when you are ready to discuss more business—” Here he switches to Sokovian.

This is the part you dislike the most about this particular mission: whenever anything of substance comes up, Litvinchuk and his cronies immediately switch to Sokovian, leaving you in the dark.

To add insult to injury, Litvinchuk still seems infatuated by your cleavage.

Litvinchuk says goodbye a few minutes later and you manage to bite your tongue until he’s out of earshot.

“I really don’t love the fact that he spent half of that conversation sneaking looks at my boobs,” you say quietly.

“Well, to be fair, they do look spectacular,” says Loki. “I’ll have to send a thank you note to the wardrobe team for that.”

Heat stirs hopefully and unhelpfully in your hips at that comment.

“This is what I meant by being inappropriate, you know. Did he have anything interesting to say?”

“He’s invited me to a game of cards this afternoon.”

“Do you need me for that? I could go try and talk to the wives, see what I can find out.”

“Originally, I’d thought no, but since dear Ivan seems so enamored of your assets, it might not be a bad idea to have you come along.”

You sigh. “How am I now at the point in my life where letting an illegal arms dealer stare at my tits is a fucking mission objective?”

Loki laughs quietly. “We’ll keep that out of the final report.”

*

The card game ends up being a lot worse than you thought it would be. And not because of Litvinchuk’s wandering eyes.

They’ve set up the game on the pool deck tables and chairs. As best as you can tell, it’s a Sokovian twist on a combination of rummy and poker. You’re not the only woman at the table: a few of the other men have their girlfriends or mistresses draped over them like strange human scarves, though their roles seem to be largely decorative.

Loki makes a big show of pulling you into his lap, saying how he just can’t bear to be apart from his new wife for terribly long.

“Ah, young love,” says Mikhnevich. “I remember when my Irina and I were like this.”

“Now she begs for him to leave the house!” says Litvinchuk. There’s a hearty round of laughter—it’s not a particularly funny joke, but you suppose that’s one of the benefits of moving up in the world of crime: people will laugh at your jokes because they’re afraid you’ll kidnap their families or something. It’s all very dysfunctional.

Loki makes an effort to teach you the game, but Nina is not the sort who pays very close attention to that kind of thing, so you find yourself giggling and letting him steal kisses or whisper in your ear as he explains some strategy or another.

There are several problems with this arrangement. The first is that you are positioned on his lap in such a way that you can feel his cock nudging your ass or your thigh, depending on how he’s sitting. And it’s close enough proximity for you to ascertain that he is long, thick, and semi-erect.

The second problem is his thigh; specifically, how it presses against your cunt, how every time Loki leans forward to draw a card, he inadvertently rocks you against the firm muscle. Each time, it feels better than the last; each time, you clench and ache and talk yourself out of riding his thigh until you have a screaming orgasm right on the pool deck. Each time, the idea becomes more and more tempting.

The third problem is his hands. Specifically, where and how they are wandering. He plays it off like it’s unintentional, like he’s just absently fidgeting with the part of your suit that lays against your hip or idly drawing lazy circles on your thigh. You can’t help but think that it must be calculated. He’s spent the last twenty-four hours intentionally trying to drive you crazy–there’s no way that he would pass up an opportunity to play his little games without you scolding him or rolling your eyes.

The fourth problem is that the first three problems are turning you on a lot.

Your clit seems to swell with every pass of his fingertips on your bare skin, no matter how casual. It drags against the slick material of your swimsuit every time you shift on Loki’s muscular thigh. You can feel yourself growing slicker and slicker with every moment. Eventually, it becomes too much and you try to shift in his lap, crossing your legs to give yourself a little relief.

This does exactly nothing useful. Instead, your movement causes his cock to twitch against you, which only escalates your growing arousal. He hooks the elastic of your suit at your hip onto his thumb and pulls, letting it snap back against your skin. His expression is playful when you look up at him, but there’s a fire in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

You are throbbing, your cunt practically weeping with slickness. And you’re pretty sure he knows.

And you’re pretty sure you don’t mind.

You lick your lips.

He hooks his thumb back into your suit at the hip, and this time he leaves it there, his fingers splayed along the curve of your hip. It’s casually possessive and ridiculously hot and the polar opposite of helpful.

He definitely knows.

Your heart is pounding. Can you go into cardiac arrest from being too turned on? You wish you could use Google. At a minimum, some sort of visual equivalent of a cold shower would be helpful. Pictures of Henry Kissinger or something. Budget reports. Taxes. Anything to get your mind off your aching cunt and the mess that you’re making in your swimsuit.

“I think you could do with a bit of a lie down, Mrs. Pine.” Loki's voice is low in your ear. “You seem…warm.”

You would have thought that Loki knowing about your current state of arousal would be cause for humiliation, if not irritation. Instead, it only seems to add fuel to the fire, especially with the way he’s talking to you. You’re not sure how he’s doing this, but it feels like his fucking voice is vibrating in the cradle of your hips, sending a fresh wave of slick arousal to your dripping cunt.

“Yeah,” you say. “Very warm.”

It’s perhaps a testament to your current state of mind that you can only manage this sentence and not some smart remark.

“Would you like my help with that, darling?” he asks. The phrasing is innocent, but the question is loaded. And sincere. You take in a shaky breath. You know all the reasons why this is a bad idea, but you also can’t bring yourself to say no. He may be wildly irritating, but you suspect he’s likely a good fuck…and you really need to be fucked.

You nod. “Yeah…I’d like that.”

“We’ll go up to the room after this game ends,” he says. “And then I’ll take very good care of you.”

It takes everything in you not to whine. Fuck. You didn’t think it was possible to be this wet, this turned on. 

Loki shifts slightly, pulling you close against him, his cock now fully erect and pressing hard and thick against your ass. 

“Do you feel me?” he asks, his lips grazing your ear. “Do you feel what you’ve done?”

You nod and wiggle your hips slightly, partly to situate yourself and partly because you want a little bit of payback. His grip on your hip tightens.

“I’d advise you not to play games, little wife,” he rasps in your ear.

More heat builds in your hips. You can’t remember the last time you were this turned on. Maybe never. You throw a look at Loki over your shoulder. “It’s not a game,” you say. “I’m just very warm.”

His eyes are dark. “Burning up, I suspect.”

“You have no idea.” You lean back against him, turning so you can nuzzle your face against his neck. God, he smelled good. “Please,” You say it so quietly that only he can hear, “I’m aching.”

He sucks in a sharp breath through his teeth and you feel his cock throb. He clears his throat. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid I’m going to have to take my leave a little early—Mrs. Pine is feeling quite unwell.”

Fuck yes.

If Litvinchuk and his men suspect there’s anything untoward about your departure, they don’t say so—and you imagine you must look a little unsteady anyway. Loki slides an arm around your waist as you leave.

“Now Mrs. Pine,” he says once you’re out of earshot, “tell me exactly what ails you.”

You let out a shaky sigh. “Are you seriously going to do this?”

“I only want to ensure that we are on the same page,” he says with a smirk.

“Like hell you do. I already told you, you just want to hear—” You cut yourself off, realizing that you’re playing right into his hands.

He smiles like a cat with a bowl full of cream. “What do I want to hear, darling?”

You press your lips together. This is infuriating.

“I’m waiting…”

You blow out a shaky breath. Fuck it. “You just want to hear me say that I’m fucking soaked because you’ve been rubbing me against your thighs and touching me for the last two hours and if I don’t come soon, I’m going to lose my goddamn mind.”

He smirks as you approach the hotel lobby. “Well, I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear you say all that.”

“You absolutely were.”

The air conditioned air in the hotel lobby feels extra icy against your sunwarmed skin and your sandals seem to clack particularly loudly against the marble floors.

“You have a smart mouth, do you know that?”

“You like it,” you say as you approach the bank of elevators. “That’s the reason why you pull half of this shit with me.”

“Perhaps.” He gives you a smile that feels a little dangerous and sends even more heat to your aching cunt. “But do you know what my favorite part of your smart mouth is, Mrs. Pine?”

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.”

The elevator door opens. It’s empty and your cunt clenches at the possibilities this presents.

“My favorite part about your smart mouth,” says Loki in a low voice as you step into the elevator, “is that it will sound that much sweeter when I make you beg for me.”

The elevator door slides closed and you barely have a chance to react before he’s backing you up against the wall and pressing his thigh between your legs.

“You’re a disobedient, wicked tease, Mrs. Pine,” he growls, sending a thrill through you. “I think you could benefit from a firm hand.”

“You like it,” you breathe, rocking your hips against his thigh, trying to capture some of the same friction that was driving you wild earlier.

“Rutting yourself against my thigh in public like a common slut,” he purrs. “You must be desperate.” He slides a hand between your legs, slipping his fingers under your bathing suit. His expression changes the moment his fingers dip past the fabric—almost like he expected you to be wet, but not this wet.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he purrs as you keen. “You’ve made a mess of yourself, haven’t you?”

“I need to come so bad,” you gasp.

“I know you do.” He reaches over and slams the emergency stop button and the elevator shudders to a halt. “And you’re going to. Right now.”

“I can wait until we get to the ro—”

He spins you around and pulls you to him so your back is pressed against his chest.

“No, you can’t.” He curls his big frame over yours, sliding his hand back into your bathing suit and stroking the full length of your sex and making you cry out again. “You need it too badly.” He starts rubbing your clit with his middle and index fingers. “And I don’t think it’s going to take all that long, darling,” he growls, sucking your earlobe into his mouth, “because you’re already so fucking wet.”

There’s a small, distant part of you that resents the fact that he’s right about anything, let alone anything pertaining to your orgasms.

The larger part of you is focused on the fact that he’s right: you’re going to come and you’re going to come hard.

Your legs are shaking and you brace your arms against the elevator wall to hold yourself up. You moan loudly and arch your back as the feeling starts building in your hips.

“You need this so badly, don’t you?” He nips hard at your earlobe. “You’re desperate for it. I felt you tense up every time your sopping cunt rubbed against my thigh, every time I touched you just right.”

You whimper, pressure rising in your hips as you rock with his hands.

“You’re so close,” Loki purrs in your ear. His hips are thrusting mindlessly against your ass, like he can’t wait to be inside you.

“Fuck, I need to come,” you whimper.

“Oh, I’m going to make you come, darling, but I think what you really need is to be fucked.”

You moan as your orgasm starts to crest.

“You need to be fucked properly and hard,” he murmurs. “You need me to take care of your sopping wet, needy little cunt. You need to be filled to the brim with my cock and my come like the good girl that you are. You need to come over and over on my cock until you can’t take it anymore.”

This is what pushes you over the edge. The muscles of your cunt clench and then pleasure is blooming in your belly as the tension of the last two hours comes to a peak and you come hard. You cry out, your hips rocking against Loki’s hand, chasing the shimmery aftershocks.

“There she is, that’s my good girl,” he purrs. He holds you as you shudder and shake, his fingers still moving, still coaxing out those final waves of pleasure. But just when you think he’s about to pull his hand away, he starts massaging your clit again, one long finger slipping inside you.

“You don’t think you’re going to be satisfied with just one, do you?” he growls in your ear. “Not a needy girl like you, not when you’ve been dripping for hours. You need more, don’t you?”

“Oh fuck—” You can feel that pressure growing again and you know it’s going to be different this time.

“You’re going to come for me again, pretty girl,” he purrs. “And this time, I want to hear you scream.”

Everything is coiling up so tight and tense and suddenly two of his fingers are inside of you and they’re curling just right and the edges of your vision go white as everything inside you fizzes and releases and a sharp cry falls from your lips as you come.

“Good girl,” his voice rumbles low over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears.

His hand finally stills once the final aftershocks roll through you. Your legs are shaking, but his grip on you is still firm. Boneless, you turn to him and he presses his slick fingers past your lips. You suck and lick his fingers clean and then he’s kissing you, sucking your own essence from your lips and tongue.

“Fuck,” you breathe as the elevator shudders to life. “Fuck, that was so good.”

Loki laughs quietly and scoops you up into his arms as the elevator arrives at your floor.

“Oh, we’re nowhere near done, darling.”

Continued in Part 2

[fluffylino]

zombie!minho pt 3

-contains mature themes

"stop" minho let out, carefully pushing you away. "im feeling a little out of control"

you pouted, looking at all the marks you had left on his collarbone, all the way down to his chest.

"you shouldve taken your meds on time then" minho sighed, faking an annoyed expression. It was quite obvious he was affected by your tricks.

minho looked divine. the marks or lovebites how he would call it littered his body in an artistic way.

pretty reddish blue bruises against his pale grey skin. however the natural lively colour of his body would eventually get restored once his meds kick in. You had approximately 45 minutes to have your fun.

"you're my canvas"

he gagged, trying to pull his shirt back done. you clicked your tongue.

"im not done"

minho sighed yet again, but he didn't stop you.

"shit im shutting off...run out and lock the door if i lose it" minho grumbled, laying back down on the couch.

he had kept mentioning that. saying that if he ever lost control on his body, to run away and leave him. it scared you. if he turned completely, you could end up turning into one as well. you shook the fear away...now being a little cautious.

it was silent then.

you could hear yourself breathing and the faint sound of his heart beating. it was slow yet steady.

He lifted his head slowly, eyes completely foggy and white, his lips chapped and the expression on his face was fixed.

Lifeless.

that was until you pressed down on his bulge. nipping against the insides of his thighs. mouthing at his covered crotch.

you moved down lower, just above his bellybutton. you kissed the skin before trailing down lower. he spread his legs without much thought, to which you laughed.

standing up, you sat down on his lap. he groaned, putting his hands on your waist. for a brief second, you got scared. His grip on your waist was firm, a little too firm.

"Ow you're cold" you whispered under your breath not expecting him to bother.

he grunted, eyebrows furrowing.

huh?

you watched his cold hand slip inside your pants with ease. you whimpered, clutching his shoulders at the icy feeling of his fingers against your heat. you throbbed as his fingers pushed against your cunt with just the right pressure.

"minho-" you were about to complain, moaning when three fingers entered you in one swift motion. your hand went flying down to hold his wrist. he took hold of both of your wrists, keeping them down with a single hand.

you were wet enough yet the stretch was bearable. his fingers moving inside of you with precision. you rested your head on his shoulder, breathing down on him. he pressed his head against yours.

And the you knew.

minho was still there within. he was there and you were safe.

minho loves when you're vocal and noisy. unable to hold in your voice when he's treating you so well. it also makes him know he's doing a good job.

when he can't speak, he renders you speechless...loving how there is no talking, just moans.

the thing was, minho was not sweet and patient in this state. he was brutal, taking whatever he wanted from you. Of course he made sure you were okay but he would do whatever he wanted. never letting you take charge. not that you did most of the time. In this state, he has you keening for him. being extrememly submissive. and vocal.

"shit you're taking my fingers so well"

you looked up in surprise, his eyes were back and he was starting to look a bit more...alive. he retracted his hand, pushing the three fingers in his mouth. he groaned.

"you always taste good. and im the only one who has the honour of eating you" he seemed proud. he pulled you by the base of your neck, your lips crashing together.

"will you let me take care of you?" he asked between breaths. you answered by grinding down on him.

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hello, sorry from before. I am the illusionist person.

I guess Alastor, Velvett, and Emily (but only if you do her).

I apologize about before.

No problem! I just do not like the idea of taking away credit from others’ choices and picking out the characters for others’ subjects. It just doesn’t feel right. I am sorry for being so… well, I guess, annoying and picky! To be honest, not a lot can be done here so sorry, it’s going to be kinda short! Also, this is my first time handling Emily!

Alastor

Alastor almost thought you were an ordinary sinner. A lady not unbelievably special but special in your own ways. But he is mistaken when he begins seeing your illusions and asks you about it. He is so surprised, jaw-dropped, amazed… that’s incredible!

Alastor is actually really supportive towards your illusion power and eggs you on to use it more than you normally do. Use it to get what you want, use it to mislead, use it to defend yourself. He will be right there to cheer you on

Alastor finds it fascinating when you begin to use your illusions on him. Changing his clothing to 1800s, making his ears disappear, all for shits and giggles but it’s just eye tricks. Everything is still there and hasn’t done anything to you, it’s just so realistic, that it’s incredible. He is impressed and has to remind himself that everything you suddenly ‘make’ is not real at all

It can be considered minor but to your boyfriend, your illusionary power. The most powerful, hyper realistic delusions that even shatter like glass when being hit. Enables Alastor’s pride and he is happily brags about how powerful you can be. He mentioned you a ton during his broadcasts and now, he mentions you as a whole even more. He’s just so proud of you

“My dear. Your mind is quite wild and livid. I can’t help but wonder what else you can do. May I ask, how does this power work? It’s so unique and I’d love to get to know it even more, may we speak over a nice date on my room’s balcony over some tea and cookies?”

Velvette

Velvette actually would much more prefer if her harmless little sinner girlfriend was just a normal demon. Didn’t have any powers that made her override the Overlord of the pair… but boy, she is so wrong and she ends up being jumpscared by your illusion-inducing power, directly falling for it and afterwards, she can’t help but directly fall for you even more

Whilst it’s true that Velvette enjoys being the unique one of this couple, she finds herself not at all salty or jealous of your power. In-fact, she wants to see it more in action and she even asks if she can post videos or pictures of your abilities to show you off, as a way to also demonstrate to the web that you belong to her, and this power belongs to her as well

Velvette is uncontrollably disturbed and annoyed by just how hyper realistic and convincing your mind images are. They are fully seeable to everybody, it’s not just you two but she feels like it’s tricking her individually. Whilst she gets irritated with them sometimes, she has grown to support you as a whole. She does like, however, when you use your mind and dress her in 1800s era clothing. Yeah, the dresses are ugly and old but the effort behind them is adorable so she allows it

As stated before, Velvette takes pictures, videos and stills of your illusionary magic and posts them online. She doesn’t just use this as claiming you as hers, she also uses it to brag about you. You went from just beautiful to beautiful and powerful, and that’s all hers. She has your heart and she wants everybody to know you can render them useless with your illusions. She brags to even the Vees

“Yo. Bae, can you please do me a fav with your luse-power? I want to make a really good fashion runway picture for my social media accounts and this one is shit. Could you please make some accessorises for me… pleeeaase~? I promise I’ll buy ya a present~!”

Emily

Emily is a Seraphim. A powerful, higher-up ranked Angel species of the Heaven Hierarchy, so it’s quite surprising when she is as surprised to seeing the precious ordinary Angel lovely woman she calls hers form a illusion creation of her friend, Charlie Morningstar, trying to cheer her up after a bad day. She is so amazed and so proud, eyes sparkling with awe

Emily is the most supportive and encouraging being ever and she wants to rise you up, even more up above Heaven’s majestic cool clouds. She wants you to feel invincible and she wants to you feel proud of yourself so she’ll, much like a child, ask you to use more of your illusions, explore your power and get more confident with it and everytime she watches it, her mind basically explodes

Emily happily and excitedly spins out when you use your illusionary power on her to change her looks; gorgeous hair, gorgeous dress and even her wings. She feels so different yet so blessed at the same time, even if the new look is just a magical sheet covering her body. She also finds it interesting and funny that you dressed her in human 1800s era style, she wants you two to match so she basically begs you to use your magic on you too

Emily legit goes out of her way and with help from Sera, finds and brings back needed magical training items and spell books to try help you hone your already hyper-convincing Mirakinesis and your skills with that power, so you can expand your percentage and even maybe make it even more powerful, with her right besides you as your biggest cheerleader

“Sunflower! Can you make yourself invisible yet? Did the books and items help you at all? I hope they did! I also hope that you know that I am so proud of you and I love you so much! Please never keep something like this from me ever again! You’re incredible, with and without it”

[cuddles-with-dragons]

a shitload of incorrect quotes

Tech: *clicks pen* Crosshair: *clicks pen in response* Wrecker: Stop that. Tech: Stop what? Wrecker: You’re talking about me in Morse code! Tech: Yes, that’s what we doing. In our very limited time, we took a class on a very outdated, very unnecessary form of communication just so we could talk about you in front of you. Congrats, you figured us out! *later* Crosshair, to Omega: That’s actually exactly what we were doing.

Hunter: What’s something you guys are better than Crosshair at? Wrecker: Mario Kart. Omega: Yeah, all video games except first-person shooters and The Last Of Us. Tech: Emotional vulnerability.

Tech: If you took a shot for every time you made a bad decision, how drunk would you be? Hunter: Maybe a bit tipsy? Echo: Drunk. Wrecker: Wasted. Crosshair: Dead.

Echo, setting down a card: Ace of spades. Tech, pulling out an Uno card: +4. Crosshair, pulling out a Pokémon card: Absol, I choose you! Hunter, trembling: What are we playing?!

Wrecker: What is love? Hunter: An emotional minefield. Tech: A neurochemical reaction. Omega: Baby don't hurt me.

Crosshair: What starts with F and ends with Uck? Echo: No it doesn't. Tech: Firetruck! Omega: FUCK!

Omega: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies. Hunter: You’re too young to have enemies. Omega: You don’t even know.

Crosshair: If I die, you can have what little I own. Hunter: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die? Crosshair: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full. Hunter: Hunter: *Sigh* Let me call your therapist again.

Nexu: I’m not a doctor, I’m a medic. Wrecker: What’s the difference then? Nexu: Well doctors actually save lives, medics just make you feel more comfortable as you die. Crosshair: Note to self; never get shot.

Crosshair: Hand me the people opener. Hunter: ... Hunter: Pardon? Crosshair, annoyed: The people opener! Just hand it to me! Hunter, stressed: WHAT THE FUCK IS A PEOPLE OPENER? Crosshair: How do you not know what a people opener is? Its pointy- you know? With a handle? Hunter: Knife. It's called a knife.

Omega, hugging Crosshair: Do you feel any better? Crosshair: I feel much better now that you're here with me. *Hunter walks in* Crosshair: I feel half better.

Hunter: Would you rather kill Tech, or— Echo: Yes, kill them. Hunter: I didn’t say the other thing— Echo: I don’t need to hear it. Tech: …I’m feeling a little unsafe.

Benji, to cadet Crosshair: Oh my stars you are so cute and small! Crosshair: *proceeds to kick him in the shin and run away* Hunter, walking past: Rule number 1, don't call Crosshair cute or small.

Hunter: Omega is at that very special age where a kid only has one thing on their mind. Crosshair: Murder? Omega: Murder.

Hunter: How high are you? Crosshair: 6'4". Tech: No, he's asking what drugs are you on. Crosshair: Oh, antidepressants, why?

Crosshair: Hey, do you know the password to Hunter’s computer? Omega: Fuck you, Crosshair. Crosshair: Hey!! Omega: No, you misunderstood, the password is "fuckyouCrosshair". Crosshair: Oh, no numbers? Not very safe.

Omega: In my defense, I was left unsupervised. Echo: Wasn’t Crosshair with you? Crosshair: In my defense, I was also left unsupervised.

Tech: I will find us a ride. Tech: If you two can manage to not kill each other while I'm gone. Omega: Oh, please. We're not children. *Tech leaves* Omega, casually: ...Eat shit and die. Crosshair, also casually: Yes, fuck you.

Omega: Are you the big spoon or the little spoon? Crosshair: I'm a knife. Wrecker, from across the room: He's the little spoon.

Crosshair: Fun Fact! The average person will walk by 36 murderers in their lifetime. Echo: I like how this is a "fun" fact. Hunter: It's fun because they didn't decide to murder you.

[blueskittlesart]

What advice would you give beginner artists?

it's fine to want to do more stylized art, but nothing will help you improve quickly like studying from life. even if you want to draw very stylized figures, life drawing is still going to help you understand how the human body works and then you can build your stylization off of that understanding. I also recommend studying specifically things you're looking to improve--if you feel like your poses aren't dynamic, ask your model to do some quick (1-2 min) dynamic poses and work on getting the gesture down. if you're looking for anatomy, ask for longer, more static poses and really study the contours of the body. this also applies for portraiture and character art--my expressions and facial structure improved like CRAZY when i started doing portrait studies from life! (note: i know live model sessions aren't accessible for everyone. i'm a huge advocate for nude models, if you can find a studio nearby that's affordable to you that offers sessions, that's the best you're gonna get. however, there are sites that will give you photos of nude models to draw from, too, or you can even just ask friends or family to pose for you when they aren't busy, that's what i did before i started getting model sessions from my school!)

materials are not everything but sometimes a good material can make a difference. it's important to know what's worth it and what isn't for your skill level. invest in some decent-quality supplies or a good art program, but understand that you're still going to need to work to understand your materials and use them to their fullest potential. (if you're a digital artist buy csp. trust me on this. get it on sale. it will change your life. also do not fucking use photoshop)

tracing is ok. listen to me. TRACING. IS. OK. tracing is how you learn. don't trace other people's art and pass it off as your own, obviously, but there is literally no problem with tracing real-life reference photos. I routinely trace references for backgrounds and the like. there is no reason for you to kill yourself trying to make complex perspective and shit up from your head when you can very easily just overlay a photo and get what you need.

in that same vein, USE REFERENCE PHOTOS. find pics online or take pics of yourself and USE THEM to see how your poses work. it makes it SO SO SO much easier. the understanding that you need to create a pose out of nowhere will come with time but you're not going to get that skill unless you have a foundation of understanding how the real human body works, and the easiest way to get that understanding is by copying photos of real people.

last but not least, there's generally a sort of 'rulebook' that new artists are expected to go by, especially online, when it comes to digital art. when i was first learning, it was all about lineart and cell shading, two things that I didn't really like. Nowadays it seems to be all about rendering. the single most important thing i can tell you is if it sucks you don't have to do it. if you hate lineart just color your sketches. if you hate shading don't shade, or find a different way to shade that you enjoy more. if rendering is annoying or difficult for you DON'T BOTHER!! art is supposed to be fun. if part of your process is annoying or upsetting to you, cut it the fuck out. don't torture yourself just to do art the "right" way. i guarantee your art will look better when you're having fun making it anyway!

[riddles-fiddles]

The pregnancy scenario is so gorgeous, I love!! And perfect timing, I literally had a dream the night before about having a kid with Leona and Idia (two different dream timelines of the same scenario converging later as a kind of after party). I thought you might get a kick out of my brain’s toy box nonsense :3

The Leona timeline was very sweet, him comforting me after someone attempted to kill me for imperfect human genetics, and then getting me pregnant to spite the killer. Idia was too nervous to kiss me to wake me up from a Maleficent curse sleep. He eventually woke me up and we then had a kid who I think was called Scoot? Started with an S and had a double O in the middle.

At the after party scene, both the kids looked like the Tsums of the father, since my brain struggles to render babies in sleep XD But the fathers were both thrilled and proceeded to show them off to everyone around them!

Honestly this is so cute anon!!! You're making me want to write more domestic scenarios with the boys,,,

Leona knocking you up in spite from the killer is so him lmao but ohhhhh think if the killer was hired by his parents to erase you out of his life. Just makes Leona more possessive of you, so when you finally grow a bump visible enough he'll be walking around with his hands always somewhere on your body, making sure to let everyone know you are his most perfect human mate (and he'll personally throw hands at anyone who even dares look at you with any hint of disgust or mockery). When the baby arrives, Leona is so lively - his lazy demeanor never truly leaves his soul, but at least now he has one motivation to get up from bed and slack off - especially if it's a girl! I can totally see him being such an endearing girldad, the type to make feminine voices when playing house and always getting so invested when throwing fake tea parties, also gets his daughter the biggest unicorn on the fair, no matter if he needs to go through some ridiculous game. Either be it a girl or a boy, Leona's favourite thing to do is go to small walks with his baby on his shoulders, squealing in excitement from all the stimuli around them, teaching them about everyday things like what is a butterfly, why birds chirp, and so on. You could say your child really did bring a light to Leona's life.

Idia... he wants to give the baby an unique name, or something regarding the online games or otaku media he consumes, but all you need to do is bat your eyelashes and hold his hand in a death gentle grip to sort his mind out of this idea. Idia's very nervous and overly cautious around the baby, always, and easily freaks out from the smallest ractions - when the baby sneezes, when they cough, even innocent, bright squeals sends him spiraling into an anxious coma. He's horrified of the idea of accidentally dropping his own child or just hurting them in some way, so he's always with a firm grip around the head and body, sustaining them even with trembling hands. He's very dedicated though, so Idia is always close to them, literally. He'll have the baby secured against his chest in a baby carrier while gaming, sometimes making effect sounds to amuse them; you know they truly are Idia's child from the way they look so enthralled to the screen, curious eyes scanning every move, every change of scenario like they're actually understanding something. He finds it annoying to go out in public with them though! His child is just so freaking cute with their cheeks so rosy and squeezable every stranger wants to talk and cuddle them, making Idia feel proud and at the same time mortified, fighting the urge to just turn heels and run back home as fast as possible. Idia doesn't care what gender his child is, but you can be sure he'll want to dress them in gamer onesies and clothing. 'Player three' and 'level 1 human' kinda shit, you know? But he will neeeeever admit he's doing it because he secretly finds it cute; god forbid Idia Shroud enjoying something so normie. Cringe.

[cobaltcarbonpotassium420]

lemon sorbet - gojo satoru

content: 1.4k words, gn!reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, wrote this with teenage gojo in mind, gojo is an annoying little shit

author's note: it has been so long!! uni has kept me dead, and the summer weather has continued to keep me dead :/ anyway out of annoyance at the heat and my burning desire for lemon sorbet, i figured i'd write this. also i somehow have a cold... in july... and the boredom is turning my brain to mush so apols for a slightly shite fic, i just needed something to do :p

"is it possible to sweat from the bottom of your feet?" "how would i know? i don't know shit about biology."

the summer heat had never felt so stifling before. in fact, even this wasn't an appropriate way to explain the weather. the heat was suffocating. not a single breeze passed through the town, fans and air conditioning were rendered useless, and even going down to the river in the shade of the trees did nothing since the stones by the riverside had absorbed all of the heat from the summer sun and were probably hot enough to grill food on. as the saying goes though, all clouds have a silver lining. in this case, the silver lining wasn't cute summery outfits, or beach days with friends, or whatever else typical july days offered. instead, the oppressive heat finally gave you an excuse to hang out with the ordinarily (and at times inappropriately) adventurous and spontaneous gojo satoru while doing nothing.

"freezing cubes of tea so the tea doesn't get diluted when the ice melts? that's genius! where did you learn about this?" "uh, the internet? it's kind of an open secret."

on any average day, gojo would have dragged you out to a cafe on the other side of town but even he had no energy left after the heat made it all evaporate from his body. as such, he had no choice but to lay on the cold wooden floor in your room so he could have at least some company. your laptop was in front of you, open to the last page of the dozen tabs you had been scrolling through in your boredom before giving up and deciding to just press your face to the floor in a futile effort to cool down a little more. just next to you gojo was aimlessly flicking through a pile of books, manga, and magazines which he had grabbed from various places around your room. currently, he was skimming the pages of a week-old local newspaper that was on the pile of mail you needed to bin.

"strips in a club, five letters? dollar doesn't fit… maybe paper?"

his questions had started to become a little annoying, but it beat staring under the furniture and wondering how long it had been since you'd moved it out of the way and mopped the floor under it.

"it's bacon. the clue means 'club' as in a 'club sandwich'. they've used that clue before, editor must be getting lazy. maybe they've recycled the whole crossword." "you really think so? okay then, what about poker term, or a mount when read backwards? four letters." "ante. yeah they definitely did this one a while back, sometime late last year i think. i remember solving that clue and thinking how nice it would be to go to italy. maybe try some authentic gelato."

gojo immediately perked up. his previous position had made you wonder for a second if it was possible for a person to melt, but now all of his energy had seemed to be restored in merely the blink of an eye.

"oh that sounds like a good idea! we could go do that now!" "do what, go to italy? for starters, i absolutely don't have the money for a plane ticket. and anyway, if it's so scorching hot here then just imagine how hot italy would be. we're barely hanging on by a thread here, i think we might actually die if we go to italy." gojo's energy was normally infectious, but somewhere between the temperature and humidity it got misdirected and just couldn't reach you.

"nonono, although if you really want to go i'll just pay for the flight." "absolutely not." "fine. but italy wasn't what i meant. i meant we could go get some ice cream from the train station! you know that's where the best ice cream is." "that's a lovely idea and all, but how are we meant to get there? not like we have a car, there's no buses in that direction, and getting a taxi just to the train station seems a little excessive. and they're shit expensive." "we have legs!"

upon hearing those three words, your body finally granted you enough energy to lift yourself up, even if just to support yourself on your elbows for long enough so you could stare gojo right in the eyes before giving him a definitive "fuck no." and slumping back down on the floor.

gojo wasn't one to give up on an idea so quickly though, and upon seeing him sit up and drag himself closer to you so he could try to annoy you into giving in, you simply prayed that there was a benevolent deity which would take pity on you in this state and let this whole ordeal blow over quickly. unfortunately, even the gods were tired from the heat today, and so the discussion had to be dragged out for much longer than you wanted it to.

"please?" "no." "pretty please?" "no." "pretty pretty please?" "no." "pretty pretty please with a cherry on top?" "like the cherry on top of an ice cream sundae?" "yes!" "still no!" "argh! you never want to do anything fun!"

gojo threw himself on top of you, and from his voice you could hear his pout, both actions which you were sure were worthy of an acting accolade, but by this point the heat had exhausted you completely and your eyes were closed which was the only surefire defence against gojo's theatricality.

a few moments passed with neither of you making a move. nothing was said, but you knew gojo's actions were childishly telling you that unless you agreed to his stupid plan then there was no way he was moving.

"if we go then it's my treat, y'know, since i dragged you all the way there."

no response. gojo started drumming his fingers on the floor, thinking up his next course of action, and then his phone screen lit up with a text from geto and presented him with the perfect plan.

"they have lemon sorbet today! i know you love that." he dragged out the word "love" for far too long. he could never understand why that flavour was among your favourites, and ever since he found out he teased you for it constantly. out of all of the delicious, mouthwatering flavours that you could choose from, you chose the most vile, sour flavour nine times out of ten.

"they have lemon sorbet every day." "yeah, but geto just texted me. he said that it's just flying out of the shop today, and they're down to their last two containers."

now this had the potential to change your mind. your interest was piqued, and gojo could see how your facial expression subtly changed from where he was sat.

"you know, they only get deliveries twice a week, and today was their delivery day. that means you'll have to wait at least three whole days until the next time you can savour the taste of their refreshing lemon sorbet." gojo spoke slowly, even more so on those last three words. the gentle lilt of his voice was starting to sound nice, almost as nice as the sorbet he was talking about.

"three whole days?" "yeah, or maybe even longer. you know lemon sorbet is gonna be flying off the shelves right now, and i doubt a tiny ice cream place in the middle of nowhere will be at the top of the suppliers list."

at some point during gojo's very convincing speech, you had sat up without realising it. the gravity of the situation suddenly fell upon you. lemon sorbet was indeed very popular, and the supplier's priority would probably be larger cities with lots of customers.

"you might be right… and the sorbet they sell at the store isn't that good…"

a twinkle appeared in gojo's eyes. he knew he was close. he could practically taste the chocolate chip cookie ice cream he'd get.

"if you want, we can take a tub as well, and ask for a few scoops to take home too."

a moment passed. and then another. gojo scrutinised your facial expression. he watched the way you stared ahead at the wall, and the way your eyebrows slightly furrowed together. you licked your lips ever so slightly, and then took a deep breath.

"fine. we can go." "oh hell yeah!" "you're paying though." "you know what, i'm not feeling it anymore."

[miss-nandini]

Don't say you love me, unless you do.

He didn't have to act like an arse. Sure, he was stressed and busy. That overworking dude seriously. But, you were only trying to help him. The only thing you said was

"Hey, Lucifer! Do you want me to help you?"

What bad thing did you say? Exactly, nothing. But, there's a thing you see, people take your love and care for granted and forget that you have feelings too. Humans do that all the time. Can you really blame the demons? Yes, you can. Because being a bloody prick can never solve anything. What's bad is bad. Dosen't matter what species they are.

He went out of his way and called you "Pathetic, insufferable little human", "annoying happy-go-lucky", "immature and insensitive." Lots of other stuff probably, you don't even remember everything.

You didn't cry in front him. Instead, you stared back with a raging fire in your eyes and snapped "Damn, what all of them said about you is true after all."

That rendered him speechless. Good, you won't let him tear your soul just because he feels like it. You are so done being the sweet and forgiving one. Have they really forgotten that you can feel? That's it. That's so fucking it.

You had stormed off from his office and requested Solomon to pick you up. Surprising, that you didn't break down in tears. You could feel rage bubbling inside your veins like hot lava. Damn him and his stupid pride. You wanted to scream and throw things.

"(Y/N)??"

It was Simeon. Yup, you ended up crashing in the Purgatory hall, of course. But why Simeon is calling in the middle of the night?

"What is it man?"

"Ummm... I guess you should go outside and see for yourself."

You huffed but eventually obliged. You already had a hunch about what it might be and that's exactly why you were reluctant to go.

Sure enough, it was the person—demon you didn't want to face. What? He is capable of pulling that puppy dog look? Well, too bad, you ain't falling for it, not today. Wait, are those... tear stains? Ah man seriously? He knows so damn well that you are soft. But bloody hell man he looks like shit and that's that.

"(Y/N), I'm sorr—

"Apology unaccepted, now leave. Goodnight."

"There's nothing good about this night when you are not by my side."

"Flattery will get you nowhere, Lucifer. You realize that I'm not a robot right? I have feelings too and YOU—Mr, congratulations! you officially lost my trust."

Every word that came out of your mouth struck him like a bullet. He didn't mean it. He didn't mean anything. He made a grave mistake—again. He dosen't deserve anymore chances. Still, his heart wants you. His body automatically moves toward you.

"I'm really sorry... I-I know I caused a lot of damage. I feel shame... But, (Y/N), I love you..."

"Don't say you love me, unless you do."

"(Y/N)...."

You were doubting his love for you and that was enough to understand the weight of the situation. Well, it was him who digged his own grave, as simple as that.

His eyes welled up. You could see his hands trembling like crazy. Well, shit. You aren't supposed to give in. Not after what he did. You shouldn't welcome him back in your life. He isn't worth that. Or... wait... true, he destroyed your feelings today but... you can't deny that in countless situations he helped you in every way he can. Also.... watching him so miserable... You are supposed to feel the taste of sweet sweet revenge. Then...why it makes you sad...? Damn him for having such a strong hold over you.

"Lucifer..."

Whatever decision you take, it's going to be a turning point. Do you really want to lose him? Not really... The answer is crystal clear. You want him back.

"Fine, you know what you are lucky. But, I swear to god, this is the last fucking time I—

You couldn't finish your sentence. He was holding you like you will disappear in thin air. You could feel sobs wrecking his body. Now, who is the pathetic one? Probably, something you would've loved to say. But, no, you could feel the genuineness. Argh... why do you love him so much?

You blinked back the tears. Fine, just this once he will get away with it because you love him too damn much.

[leoruby-draws]

hello hello hello

i just want to say i love your little drawings so much they're adorable and so full of life and everything feels exciting in them and i love how you draw and make really fun stuff for many of the minor characters, you're doing such a good job with them and it gives me so much joyy

Hi Hi Hi

Thanks for liking my stuff! Happy to bring you joy, drawing these brings me joy!

Also its fun to get into and draw minor characters because their reading lists are super short lol! But I like to give a little love to characters that most people might not know about, in fact here's some random drawings that I had in the back-burner for the past year! Never could find a chance to just post them:

Here's a cute drawing of Cyclone, Maxine Hunkle! Wanted to give her a cute costume makeover. Kinda has a magical girl look to it huh? Took a bit of inspiration from Ojamajo Doremi, but also she's meant to resemble Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz! Both the princess and the witch. I have a bit of idea of what I'm going do with her, but that's for later.

Got a drawing of Gan, Jason's friend from the Knight White books. Not sure if she exist in my Training Wheels au, but I like her a lot. Her rapport with Jason was fun to read.

Here it looks like the Outlaws are trying to recruit new members, from the Relative Heroes group, Damara Sinclaire (Allure) and Tyson Gilford (Blindside). They're not likely to join, preferring to stick with their own group. Just as well since Damara's powers might make things a rather chaotic, she doesn't need that drama in her life lol. Tho I like the thought of Tyson helping out now and then, his invisibility would be pretty useful.

Here's some random assortment of heroes, Ray Terrill the...Ray. Amethyst, tho top pic is uncolored (im lazy) but theres a Sailor Amethyst to make up for that.

There's the first Green Lantern (Alan Scott) with his kids,Jade (Jennifer Lynn Hayden) and Obsidian (Todd James Rice). Wonder why their babies here, de-aging mishap?

Jason and Toni gossip about their fellow teammates, and down below Jason decides to annoy a young Kyle Rayner. A universal constant!

Todd can't help but join in!

Also some cute father-son bonding! I sent this to someone else earlier, so imma just stick here too.

For a really minor character, here's Jay, Eddie and Rose meeting up with a very strange new friend!

And lastly here are the Metal Men, or should I say the mini-Metal Men. Read some comics about them, including a bit of silver age as well (they get destroyed pretty often, kinda funny ngl). I thought about what kinda sidekicks they could have, but I didn't want to look up metals or learn about metallurgy or chemistry or whatever. So I just made them smaller, its just temporary though, aren't they cute? Look at poor Copper, she just wants to join in!

Anyways, hope that wasn't too much, tagging all of this is gonna suck.

Sorry I haven't been posting, due to Tumblr being a pile of shit and trying give our stuff to ai websites. So I thought I would download nightshade and glaze, but that didn't work out at all (I got a new laptop but it still wont render for me at all). So I'm just gonna hope my opt-out in the settings will be enough for now. Sigh!

Hope you like all this anon, might be a while til I post again. Later!

[ditzydreamsss]

Slimecicle haunted house video + scu (nvm it's just a lore rant now)

my personal order of scu lore events:

- roll. - Minecraft, but every block is HOSTILE. - Minecraft, but every 5 minutes there's a natural disaster - Minecraft, but it's way more traumatizing - Minecraft, but 100 players are hunting me - The HARDEST Minecraft Difficulty - I Spent 24 Hours in the Most Haunted Place on Earth - DSMP arc - We Spent 100 Days in a Hardcore Minecraft Apocalypse

so how does that fit in?

well vaguely the entire lore i came up with is:

roll. : the start of everything. Charlie and his friends are just wandering around worlds when they load into Narwhal's world- the world with the dice of a hundred(?) sides. After Narwhal fucking. drops the dice on accident, Charlie "consumes" the power from the dice and now oh look he's the most powerful god in existence. Ig reason why Charlie was able to get into Narwhal's server, which is a private server, is because of his abilities to temper with The Code (which is the thing that makes up everything in the world). Kinda like atoms for us. Maybe Charlie's a long lost descendent of the Original God. idk. anyways Charlie splits his newfound powers between Condi and Grizzly. Wheatie leaves them (and never comes back) because he doesn't want to be associated with god powers. They leave on a good note.

Minecraft, but every block is HOSTILE. AND Minecraft, but every 5 minutes there's a natural disaster : They meet Schlatt, he's a funny guy so Charlie gives him god powers and now whoopsie he went psycho. At the end, Charlie banishes him and that does weaken his power, but Charlie's mistake was that he never took away Schlatt's powers, only weakened them.

RLCraft & A Hundred Players are breaks that The Council takes from all these god things. At some point Bizly, a friend they know from a game of DND, becomes a god. After Bizly becomes a god they build Molympus, which is a home for them.

Then after who-knows-how-long, The Council has the bright idea to start The HARDEST Minecraft Difficulty.

Grizzly dies in this.

alright so time for Haunted Asylum stuff.

Charlie, Condi, and Bizly decided to go on a trip to the Real World, which means they will be powerless.

And then at some point they play chess as a ghost. The ghost is Grizzly, who is technically in limbo?

This one specific chess set has connections to the limbo (shh shh plot armor).

(grizzly's comment on the video)

which. of course. equals LORE.

Grizzly's limbo was like he was in a white foggy void (like in the skies with your render distance 0 in mc) and suddenly a chess board popped up. he played along for a little bit before he got annoyed and knocked over all the pieces. The chess board at some point faded away and disappeared. mmm trauma

And then Charlie loses both Bizly and Condi (they literally die canonically)

what happens to condi & bizly & Grizzly:

Condi and Bizly are sent to the afterlife. Because of their connection with Grizzly, their death is the push that lets Grizzly free of his limbo.

They meet up and they're just thinking "bruhh when's Charlie going to join us its been ages"

MEANWHILE

Charlie revists old world's, but is unable to revive anyone, so in grief he resets the entire universe.

He loses his memory in the process.

He becomes c!slime. He stays in the world that would, in many many years, become the Dream Esempii. (Esempii's are how they define multi-people server worlds with admins and stuff)

So Slime leaves Las Nevadas and travels to a random island and stays there, in a pit-hole, until a very long long time later, scientists find Slime and put him in their laboratory. Slime can barely process anything.

Then the zombie virus breaks out (yes, in thosuands-of-years-later DSMP server), and everything goes to shit.

Remeber Schlatt? The ram guy? (Oh yeah also in the reset, Charlie locked up his god powers somewhere very deep inside him)

Schlatt breaks the glass for Charlie. The tube he's in when the video starts.

What are the doubles?

Basically, characters like Florida Man or Patient Zero are like puppets that Slimecicle made himself. His powers, locked away, didn't have anything better to do if as Slime slept for like an eternity.

The Mad Scientist (100days!Condi) was created with the only goal to ruin the world. So he did.

etc, etc.

((*slams The Court Jester on the table* m u s i c))

Since Schlatt had plenty of time to get his power back. So he's stronger than Charlie now. (Charlie's memories got buried deeper into his mind during when he was "sleeping")

Charlie dies.

Then then reunites with the rest of the council.

who, by the way, created a new completely vanilla world with normal respawns and normal mobs, etc.

they escaped the afterlife cause they're gods, idk.

many many years later, a man stumbles upon the vanilla world, or the Reset, with a friend on his shoulders.

His name is Ted.

The friend's name is Schlatt.

Schlatt, who went mad after he killed Charlie, was found by Ted when he was broken. Ted convinced Schlatt to. just let go of his powers because Schlatt actually pulled that power from someone else (idk who, say.. uhhhh.... corn!Charlie or smth). Schlatt lets go. And proceeds to forget everything.

They all chilling now.

started JRWI (Riptide, Prime Defenders, the one-shots, etc.), The Chuckle Sandwich Podcast, etc etc.

Hold on i have this old doc about me ranting about lore one sec..

-----

.....said me. in the past.

think i already posted that before but heres the updated version??

the main point was the Haunted Asylum the rest of it is blurry and mushy and I can change it any time.

[chaoticstrata]

So I was hit with a bit of inspiration for Doc...no particular reason at all...-cough cough- ------------------------------------- Doc poked his head into the Kai’raan’s room.

“Hey, I’m about to head out for some drinks and…” Doc stopped and tilted his head as he looked at the Jedi master sitting in his chair, reading something from his datapad. It wasn’t the fact that he was reading that made him pause, it was the look upon the other man’s face that did. “Everything alright, Kai?”

Crimson eyes blinked a few times before they looked up at him in bemusement. “Yes, why do you ask?”

“Well, you look like someone’s kicked your akk puppy,” the medic said as he leaned against the doorway, jacket hung over his crossed arms.

“It’s nothing, really,” the Jedi tried to say before Doc snorted.

“Right, sure…you know you’re lying to someone who knows everyone’s tell in sabbak on this ship, right?” the older man asked, raising an eyebrow, “That includes Lord Stick Up His Ass.”

He motioned if he could enter the room, and did so when he received a nod from Kai’raan. 

The Jedi knight seemed to hesitate in his reply, looking away before looking back at the datapad. “I…I just feel…lonely, I suppose.”

“Lonely, hmm?” Doc tilted his head slightly, puzzling over that as he took a seat at the end of Kai’raan’s bed. “I’m going to take a wild guess and say you’re not lonely in the friendship department, but the romantic one?”

Doc knew he hit the nail on the head when the Jedi’s cheeks turned a stunning shade of purple.

“I’m taking that as a yes,” he chuckled softly. Pulling up a leg so his ankle rested on his knee, he planted his elbow on the other and leaned forward on it. “Why not take Kira up on her offer then?”

The scrunched nose that Kai’raan made was rather adorable, Doc had to admit.

“Besides the fact that she was my student for a time,” Kai’raan started to say, setting down the datapad and leaning back in his comfy chair, “She’s not my type.”

“Too much sass?” the medic asked with a shit eating grin.

“No, I like sass,” the other man laughed, “I don’t find women attractive, Doc.”

That statement had the medic blink rapidly in surprise. He hadn’t expected that. Then again, he had no other way of knowing, what with his friend being a Jedi and all…wait. He paused and thought back to all his interactions with the knight. Kai’raan always seemed friendly enough, but now that he really thought about it…he was also flirty. 

Doc rubbed the bridge of his nose. Kirffing void, how did he miss this!?

“Wait…were you…have you…wait…”

“Did I just render you speechless, Archiban?” Kai’raan chuckled, sounding very much amused.

“Shut it,” Doc pouted. He was annoyed, but more so about his name being used than the teasing, “And excuse me if I’m a bit rusty with telling when a gorgeous man is flirting with me!”

He felt rather smug in the shocked expression he received for that.

“Uh, w-what?”

“What, what?” Doc asked, tilting his head, “Where’d I lose you?”

“What do you mean rusty?” Kai’raan replied with a question, brow furrowing.

“Well, it’s been a while since I’ve had a guy flirt with me…” he trailed off when he realized why the Jedi was so confused. A soft laugh escaped him as he said. “I know I’m a ladies man, Kai, but I do like both women and men.”

He felt more than a bit amused as the realization of his statement clicked for the Chiss. Had he mentioned how adorable Kai’raan’s facial expressions were? He had? Well, he was going to repeat himself.

Fucking adorable.

“I will always appreciate a good looking man…and maybe more, depending on his own preference,” he explained further, resting his chin on his hand. “I’ve just gotten rusty at picking up on them flirting with me…unless I’m wrong.”

“Not wrong,” the Chiss Jedi said, blush came back tenfold. “I was flirting…but backed down when I realized, or at least thought, you were politely ignoring it…”

“Not polite, just stupid,” Doc snickered, “Like I said, rusty.”

“Apparently,” Kai’raan chuckled, he looked off to the side with a soft smile, “I can’t say I’m much better…but I believe it’s more inexperienced than rust.”

“Which is fair, all things considered,” the medic said, “I doubt the Order has a 101 class on flirting or anything of the sort.”

“No, no they do not,” the battlemaster said quietly. He sighed and shook his head, closing his eyes. The next thing the Jedi said was spoken so softly Doc almost missed it. “Don’t know why I want to find someone to be with.”

“Because it’s a perfectly human thing to want,” Doc said, shrugging when the other man looked up at him in surprise. “Really good hearing for a Human,” he said by way of explanation. “And people weren't really meant to be alone--well, most people anyways. We crave contact and connection, be it just as friends, a full blown relationship, or even a one night stand.”

He stood from his spot with a soft grunt, stretching his arms over his head.

“Not even Jedi cut themselves out completely, as much as they say they do,” he continued. Walking over to the knight, he held out his hand. “Come on, you need to get out of this ship and live a little. Let’s go have a few drinks--on me.”

Kai’raan blinked a few times before a small smile formed across his lips. When he took the offered hand, Doc helped pull him up with a wide grin.

“Now, let's see if we can find you a cute young man for the evening.”

Kai’raan laughed and shook his head. “Doc…no.”

“Fine, how about a ruggedly handsome medic for the evening?” 

Said medic swore the knight’s eyebrows hit his hairline.

------------------------------------ This is a bit of headcannon for me that Doc is Bi with a heavy leaning towards women. With men, he definitely flirts and appreciates, but for something more there needs to be more there for him. He and Kai'raan stay friends (especially see Kai'raan becomes Kai'shan at some point -wink wink-). But I see him as a good support person for Kai. :)

[six-paths-of-jeanmarco]

I decided to make this post to let the following tagged blogs know they have been shadowbanned (in case they weren't aware of it), and to inform other people in the jeanmarco & aot fandoms, and also to please consider giving them a follow and interact with their posts (preferably through reblogs) while (and if) they get it all sorted out.

@horsesandfreckles @johannathemad @sugarbugbear @khyrons-stuff @iknowitscliche @rhaenne @roredwarrior3 @love-blu

Also, if anyone seeing this post knows other blogs in the fandom dealing with the same situation, please feel free to add them here!

Easiest way to test if a blog is shadowbanned: when you move your cursor over their url and it looks like this ↓

or as if they blocked you while you know that's not the case.

If you're on the app, simply check if they show up in the tags they've posted in, or in the notes of the posts they have on their dashes.

I've noticed they were banned, along with others from various fandoms, when I went through the blogs I'm following, and through my notes recently.

First thing that really annoys me? Most of those blogs are in the jeanmarco fandom. Second, and also the thing that annoys me the most? It takes months to hear back from support, three to six months, to be exact. And from the little I could find from other blogs that had went through this, we still don't know why this keeps happening.

The point is, tumblr doesn't give a shit about the fact that some of their users are rendered unable to use their platform. There's a glaring difference between having your account restricted for some days or weeks, like it is the case on other platforms, and fucking months as it is the case on this hellsite (very derogatory).

[jabberwockprince]

I'm cooking r1999 OC stuff so i need to ramble about it hehehoho rubs my evil hands together

i had to rewrite this because i lost it but i also sound like a madman so i dont expect absolutely anyone to understand my train of thought <3

I OC-fied Tartaglia a few days ago but I just got around to thinking about his whole character and lore, and it hit me that I can just put his ass in Apeiron <3 I'd like to have an OC in each faction but we'll see how much my attention span lasts

BUT! THIS MF.

I want him to be from Apeiron specifically because the idea of an integer or equally valid number within the island acting like the most fucking feral irrational number is so funny to me. a complete betrayal of the scriptures but that somehow ends up making sense, so you cannot be mad because He Still Operates Within What Was Expected. a guy whose entire existence is just ANNOYING AND IRRITATING AND INSUFFERABLE. perhaps he's a fraction, I'm not sure yet. I'm not looking forward to researching numbers to find one that suits him thematically and shit

most likely considered a genius in an unconventional way, not similar at all to 37. more like still following the theme of opposing/overstepping while working within the guidelines. so maybe something to contrast her

37's talent for numbers is explained as an innate ability to see the numbers in everyone and see their true essence, which causes her to be isolated from the physical world and the people of her own community because she does not experience nor care about reality the same way others do. its impossible to try and understand her, because her insight is so vastly unique, but she can still provide solid proof to support her discoveries with no problem at all, as seen when she confirmed Vertin's number is 0. she cares about the scriptures and numbers, and yet she likes taking the chance to discover one's number away from others just because she can be the first one to do it

so im thinking. Aianteia could be the opposite. he cannot see the numbers in people like her, but their true Forms. the perfect geometrical shapes that can only exist in the abstract world of Forms, impossible to achieve beyond a close approximation. and because he essentially sees the "beauty" in people, he cares for the community, he is friendly and often befriends others rather easily. but he can't fucking explain why he sees the world Like That. nor provide any proof as to why someone is This Form or That Form. which renders him totally useless within Apeiron, because of the importance of proof. he cares about people figuring out their number, to discover themselves and whatnot--he cares so much that he will gladly show you which Form you're meant to be, the way the universe intended it

and THIS is when the themes of battle and war and carnage come into play. when it comes to irrational numbers or the impure, Aianteia connects their "floating points" and knows exactly what to do to purify them. to make their bodies as pure as their Forms. im saying that he basically sees fancy ass geometrical shapes and lines that let him know where to start cutting and slashing and killing. this is something he does out of genuine love and care, so that those who cant even DREAM of studying the scripture can get a fair chance at discovering their number, as irrational as it may be. all they have to do is survive

im thinking. that his scars are self-inflicted because he attempted to do the exact same thing to himself. and he survived. and he figured out his number this way. he cannot explain why or how or give proof as to why he knows THIS is his number (in a way, similar to how 37 knew from birth that THIS was her number) but i like to think that 77 took a good look at him and went "hes right." and everyone had to just. accept that this guy, most likely a very young teenager, found out his number THROUGH THE "WRONG" WAY

WHICH. IN TURN. FALLS WITHIN WHAT 37 INSISTS DURING CHAPTER 05--numbers are the eternal truth because no matter when or where or how you prove something, you and the person at the other side of the planet will come up with the same result. Aianteia has an entirely different approach that led to the same conclusion as 77's mother. once again, the issue is that this is something that cannot be corrected nor given proof. relating to the gnosis of an arcanist, and how arcanum is not a viable method of study because it cannot be verified by a third party. my brain is making connections at the speed of SOUND. anyway. the issue is that he's RIGHT. which would make him a fraction, potentially, since 37 describes them like this

Integers are the living examples of virtues. Fractions can be understood through specific means. Irrational numbers are the free spirits, while imaginary numbers are the existence which doesn’t belong to this dimension of the number axis

so he can be understood through specific means, but no one can figure out WHICH means exactly

I do think that he starts out genuinely wanting to help people achieve their purest self, and somewhere down in the middle of the road he started to have a little too much fun with the idea of being the hand that brings Forms to the world of Matters. and then as he spends more and more time outside of Apeiron, it becomes a dog eat dog mentality, whoever survives gets to be their truest, purest Form -> the strongest get to impose their ideals onto the rest. Aianteia SAYS that he's doing this to uphold the scriptures and defend them in the outside world, and this is partially true as a childish leftover desire from his initial journey. but really, its all about getting the shit beaten out of him and beating the shit out of others now to see who earns the right to live

if the Storm has been going on for 7 years, it started when he was 19, so im thinking he was around 14-15 when he left Apeiron during one of those expeditions. and they let him go specifically because pretty much everyone wanted him gone

from what I remember, both Manus and the Foundation existed BEFORE the Storm? so im willing to say that Aianteia joined Manus before the first Storm ever. but i also dont want to think too hard on time logistics because we dont have the full timeline of the game yet