#and also the men are hot. i'm SORRY i AM but i like the art

[vulpinesaint]

blindsided seeing a little youtube short and immediately recognizing that they were lipsyncing to a gender flipped call of duty audio. reeling with it actually. that was terrifying i'm in too deep

[vickyt-mv]

S-rank summoner supports 👍

[vorfreudevortex]

a portrait of us - nine

a nanami x reader smau

masterlist

warnings: angst lol, slow burn, swearing, a little ooc, a typo or two

notes: 1.6k words and i am only a little sorry

nanami kento had no idea what he what he was doing.

he was not the kind of man who pursued a woman from a relationship that had ended over a decade ago, nor the type to follow one who vanished without a goodbye and hadn’t spoken to him since. in truth, he wasn’t one to chase after any woman at all. his life allowed no time for such foolishness, and he had yet to meet anyone else worthy of that time.

he also wasn’t the type to deviate from his usual schedule and activities. for nanami, saturday evenings were reserved for a leisurely stroll through the park near his apartment, ending in a visit to the grocery store for fresh meat and produce. then, he’d return home to cook himself a hearty dinner, usually indulging in a favorite recipe but sometimes experimenting with a new one.

he’d relish his meal with a glass of expensive, but not too expensive, wine before indulging in a hot bath. his favorite ritual was finishing the bottle with a few chapters of a book while soaking in bath salts and lavender until the water turned cold.

if the book captivated him, he’d continue reading in bed; otherwise, he might watch a nostalgic movie in the living room. saturday nights were his sanctuary, a time to indulge in simple pleasures: fresh air, a home-cooked meal, wine, a book, and a restful night with no morning obligations.

that was absolutely not the case for nanami tonight.

he suspected he might be coming down with something, as he felt unusually off while scrutinizing his freshly trimmed hair in the mirror. this afternoon, he had an impulsive urge to tidy up his undercut and hairline. earlier that morning, he felt strangely compelled to invest in new clothing—a sage green linen blazer and ankle-length slacks, to be precise.

he donned his new outfit, carefully combing through his hair one last time. He wore his usual brown dress shoes, watch, and leather holster over his white shirt, carrying his blunt sword. nanami decided to forgo his beloved spotted necktie, instead folding it neatly into his blazer’s inner pocket, just in case. the outfit felt unfamiliar, and he wondered if the men in fashion magazines felt equally peculiar in such short pants.

nanami was now convinced he had caught a strange cold or flu. why was he wearing sage green? why had he purchased it, knowing he’d likely never wear it again? why was he grabbing a bouquet of sunflowers, your favorite, before locking the door and heading to his car? and although he loved art, why was he preparing to attend a sumptuous gallery opening, filled with wealthy patrons he didn’t want to be around?

as his trembling fingers unlocked the car door, he made a mental note to schedule a doctor’s appointment later in the week.

———

the director placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder as he handed you the microphone. over 250 hands applauded, but their sound was merely a distant murmur. you took a steadying breath as the applause faded and prepared to speak.

“i'd like to thank you all for attending my gallery tonight,” you began. “i never imagined my art would one day be in a museum gallery, and i'm incredibly grateful for this opportunity.”

as the audience applauded again, you searched for satoru, shoko, and the students. you finally spotted them in the middle of the crowd—shoko waved, satoru and yuji gave a thumbs-up, and the other students smiled warmly. you grinned in response, comforted by familiar faces among a sea of strangers.

“i've always gravitated toward modern pieces with bold traits and colors, but i also create works inspired by famous art. i love re-imagining poses, emotions, and other elements from those pieces to capture the redefined aura i perceive from them. i've never settled on a single style, so you’ll notice my art incorporates elements from neoclassicism to impressionism, all on one canvas.”

you silently scanned the audience, gauging their reactions. you noticed the woman from malaysia, with whom you’d spoken with earlier, listening intently with a gentle smile. nearby stood an older gentleman from london, whose questions about your work had left you unsure of his opinion. his bored expression unsettled you, but you took a deep breath and continued.

“um,” you paused. “i want to express my gratitude to all of you, the museum, its patrons, and the director, with a collection of pieces created especially for my first major gallery opening. these have never been seen before and are unlike anything i've ever done. they hold deep personal significance for me…"

you turned to join four staff members, each standing beside an easel draped in black cloth, and positioned yourself next to the largest one in the center. you nodded to them and began unveiling the canvases. gasps and murmurs from the crowd turned to smiles and applause, bringing relief. your eyes met satoru's once more. he stared back, sunglasses in hand, his bright blue eyes piercing into you, mouth hanging open.

the first painting depicted him.

reminiscent of michelangelo's david, your artwork portrayed satoru with rigid, alabaster skin. one hand held a galaxy of stars, while the other formed a circle with his thumb and middle finger connecting. at first glance, the background seemed a deep, black abyss, but closer inspection revealed the painstakingly small, barely perceptible eyes you had meticulously added with matte paint.

this symbolized satoru's unparalleled power in the universe, a singular masterpiece constantly revered yet scrutinized, along with his inability to move and act freely as he wished.

the second painting featured suguru.

inspired by caspar david friedrich's wanderer above the sea of fog, it depicted suguru, his jet-black hair blowing in the wind, standing on a cliff gazing out over a misty landscape of blurred, colorful spheres. it was the dead of night, with no stars, except for a small moon shaped like an eye with a blue iris. unlike the original, your painting allowed the viewer to see suguru beginning to step off the cliff with a relieved smile.

it symbolized suguru's internal struggle with purpose and responsibility, ultimately deciding to take control and let go, as you always knew he would.

the third painting portrayed shoko.

inspired by frida kahlo's the broken column, it depicted shoko with waist-length hair, her face turned skyward, tears streaming down her cheeks. her thin, frail body was torn in half by hands reaching into the frame, revealing her spine replaced by a large surgeon’s scalpel. the background featured a familiar, glowing, traditional japanese door, blurred by smoke.

this represented shock's duty to the jujutsu society, always giving but never taking, until all that remained were her tools and an unrepairable broken body.

the fourth painting was of yu.

you replaced the woman in lawrence alma-tadema's pandora, with the painting ending at the waist. his body was strong and flushed, gazing down at the box with a familiar smile and wide, curious eyes. instead of a floral crown, you encircled his head with a halo of stars, and the background depicted him resting in a serene, lush meadow.

you couldn’t resist creating a more joyful piece for him, symbolizing the grace of his death and much-needed rest while unknowingly wreaking havoc on those near him. only later did you realize the extent of the pain his peace would bring when you first painted the portrait.

the final and largest painting was a portrait you began shortly after leaving japan many years ago and only recently completed. it was inspired by frank bernard dicksee's la belle dame sans merci.

you and nanami.

you sat on a muscular, snowy white horse, anxious and impatient to move on. instead of a pink gown like the original, you wore navy with gold buttons on the chest, torn and splattered with bright crimson blood. your expression held a pained smile, tears streaming down your cheeks.

nanami stood on the ground beside you, one hand clutching your tattered gown, the other ensnared by blades of grass and flowers climbing his wrist and forearm. tears welled in his eyes, but his face remained blank and unreadable. he wore a suit of armor like the knight in the original, but it was dull, dark, and littered with dents, holes, and bloodstains.

this was your most prized work of art, embodying the unspoken goodbye between you and your first love. the anxious horse represented your urge to flee, while the tattered, bloodied gown symbolized the physical and mental toll of jujutsu. your expression showed the relief of leaving and the guilt of doing so. nanami's face masked his betrayal with stoicism, yet tears betrayed him to reveal his grief of losing yet another loved one. the flowers and grass symbolized his responsibilities in tokyo—the lives he needed to protect, the elders to please, and the peers to support.

you looked out at the audience with a bright, confident smile, scanning the patrons’ faces to see if their applause matched their thoughts. you started with satoru, shoko, and the students, all clapping happily, with satoru and shoko waving with flushed cheeks. the bored man from london now appeared intrigued, especially by the painting of suguru.

your eyes skipped over a stiff figure near the back of the audience.

i hadn’t noticed that man here before, you thought.

no.

he’s all too familiar.

your gaze landed on the man with broad shoulders clad in a dusty sage green blazer over a crisp ivory shirt, sandy blonde hair neatly cut and parted. hollow cheeks framed a strong jaw, and soft, coffee-brown eyes bored into yours. 

it simply couldn’t be him… 

no- it simply couldn’t be anyone else.

nanami kento.

next: part ten

tag list // @bubybubsters @sad-darksoul @corvid007 @kenqki @ikon-teen

[headfullofpresley]

Good Boy

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 8,6K

Warning(s): sub!Elvis, soft dom!reader, army!Elvis, SMUT obv; handjob (m. receiving), edging/orgasm control, begging, praise kink, strong language, alcohol consumption, smoking.

Requested: No, but pls send in requests for sub!Elvis ;)

Summary: While on military leave, Elvis discovers a whole new side of himself with the help of a pretty little showgirl in Paris.

Author’s note: readers’ performance and outfit was based on this video! I just suck at describing it, so if you want the visual, there ya go. also, i am officially dead after writing this bc GODDAMN. also, i suggest listening to this song while reading this ;););). enjoy luvs!

Translations for French words used in this:

mon chéri/chéri - my dear/sweetheart/etc.

bébé - baby

salut, mon amour - hi/hello, my love

mon ange - my angel

magnifique - magnificent

mon trésor - my treasure

masterlist

‘‘You've been a bad bad boy, I'm gonna take my time, so enjoy. There's no need to feel no shame; relax and sip upon my champagne.

Oh baby for all it's worth, I swear I'll be the first to blow your mind. I'll give you some oh-la-la; voulez vous coucher avec moi?

I got you breaking into a sweat; got you hot, bothered, and wet, you nasty boy.’’

To many, Paris was known for being the leader in the world when it came to fashion and art, authentic little bakeries that baked fresh bread and pastries at the crack of dawn to wake up the people in the neighborhoods with the mouth watering smell, the fierce people that could have one shaking with just a single glare. The city was classy and elegant, but as soon as the sun would go down, Paris would turn into the bustling place men and women from far away would come for. One could even say Paris was the cherry on top of the cake that was Europe.  

Elvis on the other hand did not give a damn for what the French city was known for. He had been serving time in the army for a year now and he couldn’t wait to get out of Germany and spend his week off in another country that was waiting for him to be explored. Or in other words: he couldn’t wait to let loose and attend some parties, curious to know what the French ladies were like. Even though he had girls lining up for him and fighting for his attention back in Germany, he hadn’t gotten any lately and he was feeling a little… touch starved.

‘‘I’m sorry, gentlemen. We’re completely full tonight,’’ the girl sitting at the ticket booth in front of the well-known Moulin Rouge club told the two men in front of her. Frank looked at her as he pointed at Elvis, who could already guess where this was going and swatted his hand away.

‘‘Do you know who this is?’’ He asked her in utter disbelief, nearly scoffing in the poor girls’ face and Elvis smacked his arm, shoving him aside as he stepped forward, giving the girl an apologetic smile. ‘‘I’m so sorry about him. Enjoy your night, darlin’,’’ he told her and she just nodded, not seeming to be bothered by Frank’s behaviour at all, nor the fact that he was Elvis Presley.

Elvis grabbed his friends’ arm and pulled him away from the club, rolling his eyes as Frank pulled his arm free, letting out a laugh. ‘‘What are we gon’ do now, E? It’s 2 in the morning and every goddamn place in Paris is full,’’ Frank exclaimed in slight frustration, spreading his arms. They had only arrived in Paris this morning but hadn’t had much time to do anything since Elvis would be followed around pretty much every day. He didn’t mind it all that much─giving the people the attention they wanted from him, posing for pictures and so on, but both men were looking forward to their first night out in the city. After all, everything is better when the sun goes down, right?

‘‘Let’s just walk and look for a place that’s not full,’’ Elvis sighed, lighting a cigarette as he strided forward. Frank rolled his eyes up to the sky, but before he could follow his friend, the both of them halted their movements as soon as a voice spoke up.

‘‘You’re going the wrong way,’’ a woman leaning against the wall next to a record store told them casually, smoke of her cigarette circling up as she held it in between her fingers elegantly. A small grin tugged at the corner of her red lips, golden brown eyes carrying a mischievous sparkle. The red trench coat she wore hugged all her curves and matched her lips to a perfection, her thick curls framing her face as her bronzed complexion glistened in the flickering neon lights coming from the Moulin Rouge club a few steps back. The two men were taken back for a second, staring at the woman with slightly dropped jaws. Paris was full of beautiful people, but there was something about the woman in front of them. Unconsciously, they were drawn to her and had taken a few steps closer. She laughed softly, taking a small puff from her cigarette, leaving a red stain behind on the bud.

‘‘E-Excuse me?’’ Frank stuttered, snapping out of his little trance as he tried his best to sound calm and collected. She blew out some smoke from the corner of her mouth and threw her cigarette onto the pavement, stepping on it with the pointy heel of her pump. ‘‘I said, you’re going the wrong way. If you want what you’re getting at the Moulin Rouge, and well.. maybe more, you will not find it there,’’ she hummed mysteriously with a soft French accent on her tongue, pointing at the direction they were headed in, as if they knew what kind of places there were. She knew it were all just small jazz bars that were closing up any time now and restaurants that had closed their doors hours ago.

‘‘Well, do you know a place we can go to then?’’ Elvis asked, flashing her a friendly smile as his cigarette hung in between his fingertips loosely, his brain completely forgetting it was there in the first place. ‘‘It’s our first night in Paris and we just wanna have a drink, nothing too crazy,’’

‘‘Soldiers?’’ The woman asked as she pushed herself off of the wall, standing up straight while tightening the strings on her coat, the fabric outlining her body even more. Both Frank and Elvis tried hard to keep their eyes on her face and to not let their eyes wander down to have a peek at said curves and bare legs. ‘‘Yes, ma’am,’’ Elvis said politely as Frank nodded and she let out a laugh, signing for them to come along as she started walking in the other direction. ‘‘Call me Daisy, chéri,’’ she grinned, her heels clicking against the pavement as she didn’t even look back to see if they would follow her. She knew they would─they always did.

Elvis and Frank exchanged a quick look before Frank quickly tugged his friend along, jogging after Daisy. She kept quiet the entire walk to where ever she was taking them, smiling softly as she could hear them whispering to each other now and then. At one point, Frank even voiced out his worries to Elvis about how he was hoping they wouldn’t die in Paris and she couldn’t stop herself from giggling softly. They certainly were not going to die, but she was positive that they would leave this city as new men.

A bubble of nerves mixed with excitement settled into Elvis’ stomach as Daisy turned into a dark alley, the only light that lit up the dark street being a twinkling midnight blue neon sign in the form of a martini glass. Despite the place not even seeming to have a name, there was a broad shouldered man standing by the door, letting the people that were queueing outside in, if he redeemed them worthy to be allowed in that was. It seemed like anyone that had more than just a few drinks were turned down, as well as people that could not prove they were over eighteen. Daisy passed by the line of people and greeted the man at the door, who pressed a kiss on her cheek and opened the black velvet robe, opening the big equally black door. Frank gave Elvis an exciting squeeze in his arm as he heard the music and chattering coming from inside, tugging Elvis along into the club Daisy brought them to.

It was like they were thrown into a completely different world. They were aware of what a burlesque club was and this seemed an awful lot like it, but at the same time, it felt so different. There was a big mahogany bar near the entrance, large mirrors on the wall behind it giving the perfect view of the stage that was located on the other side of the establishment. Bottles of any kind of liquor were lined up against the mirrors and Elvis couldn’t even read some of the labels as they were displayed in all kinds of languages he unfortunately did not speak. The place was nearly filled to the brim with people, sitting at tables that had the perfect view of the girls dancing on the stage, or dancing in any empty spot they could find. French franc’s and American dollars were flying through the air coming from the people closest to the stage, a group of Dutch soldiers spending all their last money on the dancing girls, sticking papers in their outfits or mouths when they allowed it. All the men, and even some women, were watching the girls on stage with hungry eyes and you wouldn’t have to think twice to guess what they were thinking about─despite that, everyone kept their hands to themselves and were very respectful. A strange place, but oh so exciting.

‘‘What is this place?’’ Frank yelled in excitement as he looked at Daisy when she brought Elvis and him over to the bar, waving over the bartender. ‘‘Hmm.. One would say it’s a burlesque club, one would say a gentlemen’s club, but I don’t like that name. The ladies love it too,’’ she hummed mysteriously, winking at Frank as she nodded to some girls at a table, cheering on one of the club girls that was making a show of pretending to remove her stockings, teasing them by rolling them right back up. Elvis laughed excitedly, flashing a grateful smile at Daisy as she handed him a drink. ‘‘It can be whatever you want it to be, that’s fun of this whole place,’’ she smiled brightly, poking both his and Frank’s noses, before she walked off and disappeared behind a curtain near the stage, leaving them behind to enjoy the show.

‘‘Salut, mon amour,’’ you hummed happily as you noticed Daisy walking into your shared dressing room. She walked over to where you were sitting in front of your vanity, hugging you from behind─you squeezed her hands and laughed as you hugged her back, your eyes following her in the mirror as she took off her coat, revealing the shiny black velvet bodysuit she wore that made her legs look like they went on for days, her breasts perfectly squished together. ‘‘Have you been saving poor lost souls from Moulin Rouge and Le Lido again?’’ you grinned knowingly at her, leaning forward to your mirror to continue applying your lipstick. Daisy laughed and sat down in front of her own mirror, leaning her arm on the back of her chair as she grinned at you.

‘‘Well ofcourse, my darlin’. We need to make money too, right?’’

You laughed a little at her reply, but nodded nonetheless. She was definitely right─with the Moulin Rouge and Le Lido being the most famous burlesque clubs in the city, the small mystery club you worked at had to work extra hard to keep up at with the scene. Knowledge of this place got out through word of mouth and although business seemed to be popping, the owner Théodore was up to his neck in debts. He refused to give up his passion for the business and close the club, and you and Daisy used to love this place just as much but you were both ready for bigger and better things. You had big dreams but in order to let them come true, you needed money.

‘‘I can’t wait until we get out of Paris,’’ you sighed deeply as you popped your lips in the mirror, puckering them to make sure you didn’t miss a spot before you put your make-up down. A wide grin spread across Daisy’s face and you could practically feel excitement oozing out of her, making you look at her with a raised eyebrow. ‘‘There might be a chance that we’ll get out of here sooner than expected,’’ Daisy said as she leaned a little closer to you, eyes twinkling in the lights of your vanity. ‘‘Elvis Presley is one of the lost souls I’ve saved tonight,’’ she whispered, as if you two weren’t the only ones in the room. You widened your eyes upon hearing that name, looking at her as if she had grown two heads.

‘‘E-Elvis.. Elvis Presley?’’ You repeated in disbelief, grabbing onto her hands as she nodded, her hair bouncing wildly with her movements. You both were very aware of who the man was, as did the rest of the world, but the fact that he was American excited you even more. Sure, there were American soldiers in here pretty much every night, but back at home they were nobodies. Elvis Presley was someone─someone with status, money, the power to get you out of this hell hole of a city. Yeah, Paris wasn’t all they cranked up to be. ‘‘Y/N, you have to do your solo tonight. The one with the little white corset and the feather skirt,’’ Daisy said with a gasp, and you could almost see a light bulb lighting up above her head. She let go of your hands and walked to the racks of clothing, looking through the fabrics for a little bit until she pulled out the outfit she had in mind─the fabric of the breasts were decorated with small diamonds as well as the seams and the panties you wore with it. The feather like skirt that you’d wrap around your waist to give the outfit a bit of a pop was a shade of very light pink. You had spend months saving up for this outfit and you loved performing in it because it sparkled so prettily in the lights. It was definitely one of your most successful outfits as well, as it always got you the most tips.

‘‘Only if you do your solo in the pearl outfit,’’ you grinned teasingly at her, wiggling your eyebrows─your best friend had a solo she’d do wearing only pearls wrapped around her body, making it seem like it was an outfit. Showed a lot of skin, but not the skin people were so desperate to see. You loved seeing her in it and you knew that Elvis and who ever he brought would too. ‘‘Bébé, it’s like you’re reading my mind,’’ she laughed as she handed you your outfit and grabbed her own. Since your job was basically dancing for money and dressing up, you often wore wigs─this time you decided on a white blonde bob cut with bangs, bringing out the Parisian in you. It was fun to play someone different from who you were in your day to day life, and you always greatly indulged in your roles, making the people in the audience really believe in the show you were putting on.

After you put on your equally as shiny and diamond covered pumps, you and Daisy walked out of the dressing room and as the lights in the club dimmed a little, Daisy quickly informed the band which song she wanted to do tonight before she took her position on the piano. You waited behind the curtains as the lights went back up, music playing as two of your other co-workers revealed Daisy that was laying on the piano from behind the big white feathers they held in front of her. She effortlessly flirted with the piano man as part of her show as she sang her little heart out. You and Daisy were probably the only girls at the club that sang and it got people coming back every time, so Théodore asked you to keep doing it. A lot of girls that worked at the club did not take a great liking to you and your best friend, because you made the most money out of all girls, but it wouldn’t be long until you and Daisy would walk out of here with a rockstar on your arm and follow him to America to make it big. After all, there was no way that you were going to leave your best friend behind in Paris.

As Daisy was wrapping every single person in the audience around her pretty little finger, your eyes scanned the crowd for the one and only Elvis Presley your best friend promised you she had somehow gotten here. When your eyes found him sitting at the bar, sipping his drink and shoulders shaking a little to the music, the wind was almost knocked right out of your lungs. You already knew he was handsome from pictures you had seen, but good Lord, he was absolutely gorgeous. Your fingers clenched around the stage curtain you were hiding behind, biting your lip as your mind was already making up all kinds of stories that included having him in very unholy positions. Rockstar or not, soldiers were always so easy to get on their knees, doing whatever you wanted them to do. Just like his friend, he was dressed up in a suit, making you giggle softly. A dress code was often required at the Moulin Rouge and other places, but in here, everyone just wore whatever they wanted. As long as their pockets were full, Théodore didn’t care what anyone looked like.

When Daisy’s solo came to an end, Elvis and his friend applauded happily as did the rest of the crowd. People at the front were throwing money her way, the locals chanting her name over and over again as they wanted more and more. They always did. You smiled brightly as you let go of the curtain and clapped your hands in excitement as Daisy ran back to you, hands filled with paper. ‘‘You were magnifique as always, mon trésor!’’ you exclaimed theatrically, though you meant every word of it. As all of her performances, this one had been amazing and you could understood why Théodore did not want to let the both of you go. It would have him completely broke by the end of the week, maybe even the middle of it.

‘‘I’ll keep his friend busy, go get him, mon ange,’’ Daisy laughed excitedly, nodding her head to the bar as she air-kissed your cheek, making sure not to get lipstick on your face. You giggled and nodded, tiptoeing on the stage as the lights dimmed once more, informing the band of your choice of music. As you sat yourself on the velvet cushioned bench on the stage, you felt nervous for the first time because you knew that Elvis Presley’s eyes would be on you in only a few seconds. You inhaled some air, making sure to relax every muscle in your body as you gave the guy in charge of the lights a nod, making him light up the club a bit more. As your song started with a soft and gentle piano tune and you started singing, people at the front row were already cheering and losing their minds just like they had with Daisy. You noticed some of the other girls that had been on the stage earlier who were now waitressing rolling their eyes and you had to bite your tongue not to laugh. Both you and Daisy always thrived even more because of their jealousy. The song soon picked up its beat, adding drums and saxophone to your performance and you put on the greatest show of your life, your body moving easily to the rhythm of the music. You made sure to give the people at the front row a flirty smile as you took some money from them, sliding the bills into your corset.

Nearing the end of your song, you took a few steps down the small stairs at the front of the stage and the Dutch soldiers were quick to lift you off of the steps by holding your arms, placing you down on the floor. You danced your way through the crowd, interacting with people and taking their money as you made your way to the bar. You shot a wink at Daisy who was sitting next to Elvis’ friend, your best friend supportively dancing to the music. You sang as you looked at Elvis, grinning playfully as you reached your hand out to him. He widened his eyes a little, taking the hint as got up from his seat and lifted you up by the waist instead, sitting you down on top of the bar. You gasped theatrically as the band had their solo, sliding yourself further up the bar to place your heels on it. Daisy had glued your little blonde wig down so much that you could probably keep it on the entire week, though it made it possible for you to throw your head back as you stretched your leg out, giving the people─and mostly Elvis─the view you wanted them to have. As you got on your knees and swirled your hair around before standing up straight, you kicked the cocktail shaker that bartender put down, making him catch it easily. You had done this so many times before, that all the bartenders were aware of every little performance trick you had up your sleeve. You seductively walked your way over the U-shaped bar, toward the mirrors and danced in front of it before you turned around and gave the bartender a knowing wink. Two of them held your hand as the third leaned over, letting you walk over his back to get to the other side of the bar and in front of Elvis again. You made sure not to dig your heels in too deep and smiled at him as he gave you a quick thumbs up. You finished your song as you sat down on the bar, turning Elvis around so he was facing the audience instead of you before you swung your legs over his shoulders, putting your hands up elegantly while shooting a big fat wink to the people as the song ended.

Elvis felt like he had been thrown in a fever dream. A very pleasurable fever dream, he had to admit. He had seen burlesque shows before in America and while they were exciting and fun to watch, it was nothing like this. The screams of the audience, the live singing, the way you had the crowd in the palm of your hand. Including him. It was all so thrilling and so risqué. As you lifted your legs off of his shoulders and thanked some people who gave you money, you took the drink the bartender handed you and looked at Elvis who had turned back to face you, flushed cheeks and wild electric blue eyes.

‘‘You.. You were amazing,’’ he breathed out, letting out a laugh as he reached out some money to your corset. As he slipped it behind the fabric and his fingertips touched the flesh of your breast, you could’ve sworn your entire body was set aflame. Now that you could take a good look at him from up close, you could definitely understand why so many girls would scream and cry upon the sight of him. He was strikingly beautiful and you were definitely planning on having some fun with him tonight, and the day after, and after, and after… You could get used to seeing his face every day of the rest of your life.

‘‘I know,’’ you smiled at him, taking a sip of your drink as you crossed your legs while still sitting on the bar. ‘‘I did not expect to see you here tonight, mr. Presley. Has Paris treated you well?’’ you hummed, making your voice sound extra flirty, accent extra thick. Americans loved girls with accents.

‘‘It’s only my first night, honey. But I like it very much,’’ he said, his Southern drawl sounding very interesting and very sexy to your ears. He gave you a knowing smile, as he obviously meant you as his reasoning for liking Paris. You smiled brightly and slipped your hand down the collar of his blazer, fixing it a little. Your eyes sneakily met those of Daisy and you two exchanged a wink as she clinked her glass against Frank’s, giggling at something he whispered in her ear. ‘‘What’s your name, darlin’?’’ Elvis asked, making you look at him again with a slight head tilt, squinting your eyes teasingly as if you were contemplating on whether you were going to give him your real name or not. But his eyes looked so hopeful and so cute, so you figured having him know your real name wouldn’t be so bad. After all, you were planning on having this man take you out of Europe─a girl’s gotta play her cards right.

‘‘It’s Y/N, mon chéri,’’ you smiled, reaching your hand out to him. He took it, grinning as he kissed your knuckles, though he didn’t let go of your hand. Instead, he intertwined your fingers together and casually held onto your hand as his other hand landed on your thigh, smirk tugging at his lips. ‘‘A pretty name for a pretty girl,’’ he complimented, as if you hadn’t heard that one a thousand times before. No matter where they came from, all soldiers were the same. Though when it came from him, it sent a tingle down your spine but you weren’t going to tell him that. It was true that you wanted him, but you were not planning on acting like one of his lovesick fans. You knew you already had him in the palm of your hand, even though he thought he was the one in charge here. You rolled your eyes slightly and laughed as you gently pushed him off, placing your drink down before you jumped off the bar.

‘‘I’m going to get changed, mr. Presley. When I come back, make sure you finished your drink, okay?’’ you told him sweetly, leaving a lipstick stain behind as you kissed his cheek. As you passed by Daisy, you squeezed her arm softly and laughed as you quickly ran off to your dressing room. You put all your money away and took your performance outfit off, putting it away before you put on your own clothes again which you had worn when you came here─a tight fitted black dress which was probably a little shorter than what modest women wore nowadays, but you weren’t exactly a modest women. You were a showgirl, a free spirited one. Didn’t like to be part of the crowd, but would much rather stick out in one. You kept the wig on. Because one, it looked kinda cute and two, it would probably take you hours to get it off. You fixed your make-up a little, spraying some perfume around you before you grabbed your clutch and stepped into your pumps before you walked back to the bar and over to Daisy.

‘‘Let me know if that wig is sex proof,’’ she whispered teasingly at you and you threw your head back with a laugh, nodding at her as you hugged her. You gave Frank a quick wave before you shrugged your coat on and took Elvis’ hand, smiling at him.

‘‘Where are you taking me?’’ He laughed softly as you pulled him outside, taking him out of the alley and away from the club. You let go of his hand and hooked your arm through his instead, smiling innocently as you looked up at him. ‘‘My house,’’ you shrugged casually and even though Elvis was surprised, he tried his best not to show it. Guess he didn’t have to work as hard as he thought. ‘‘I have been working all night and I want some coffee. The club’s coffee is not very good,’’ you chuckled and he nodded, letting you take him to your place. The walk there was short, but enjoyable nonetheless. He told you a little bit about his hometown and his time in Germany, telling you how he both liked and disliked being enlisted into the army and you told him you were glad he had become a soldier, otherwise you probably would not have met him. As you arrived at your apartment and you opened the door, stepping inside, he grinned at you.

‘‘Didn’t even have to use one of those creative pickup lines, huh?’’

‘‘It’s only coffee, mr. Presley,’’ you rolled your eyes with a smile on your face. You obviously weren’t planning on having only coffee with the man and he damn well knew that too. ‘‘Elvis,’’ he said as he followed you into the open spaced kitchen of your small apartment, leaning against the counter as you flicked some lights on, taking your coat off. ‘‘Call me Elvis,’’ he smiled as you looked at him and he took your coat from you, hanging it up by the front door. You hummed with a nod, making some coffee for the both of you, despite it being in the middle of the night. To you, it was usual routine.

‘‘Do you often bring men back to your apartment?’’ He asked as he blew at the dark liquid in the cup you handed him, eyes boring into yours as a teasing grin lingered on his face. You chuckled softly, taking a sip of your coffee. ‘‘Only if they’re as cute as you,’’ you teased back, licking your lips as you put the steaming hot coffee down, taking a step closer to him. You grabbed onto his jacket, biting your lip as your eyes wandered down to his plumb lips. ‘‘There’s not a lot of those out there, so no, Elvis. Not often,’’ you grinned and he put his coffee down on the counter, snaking his arms around your waist, pressing you against him. You stood in between his long legs, hands moving up his shoulders to wrap your arms around his neck loosely.

‘‘You know somethin’?’’ he hummed, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his hot breath against your skin as the smell of his cologne entered your nostrils, making your heart jump with excitement. ‘‘When you were up there, on that stage.. I could barely keep my eyes off of you,’’

‘‘Barely? Do not lie to me, Elvis. You were undressing me with your eyes,’’ you stated boldly, the tip of your nose touching his as his lips ghosted over yours. He laughed softly as he nodded, softly pressing his lips against yours. He was gentle and sweet and as he deepened the kiss, you let him take the lead for a little bit. You let him believe he was the dominant one in the room, you let him fantasize about how you’d be screaming his name, but boy… was he in for a surprise. You slipped your hands down and grabbed his hands, pulling away from the kiss as you smiled at him and took him to your bedroom, pecking his lips as you gently pushed him to sit down on your bed. You turned on the light on your bedside table, holding back a giggle as he eagerly took off his blazer, throwing it to the foot of the bed. He kicked off his shoes as he pushed himself further up the bed, leaning against your pillow while he watched you intensely as you pulled up your dress a little before you straddled his waist. You leaned down to capture his lips into a heated kiss as your hands moved to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them as you kissed your way down his neck and chest, pushing his shirt open. He gasped softly as he looked down at you when you unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of the loops of his pants. He watched with confused but curious eyes as you threw the belt on the bed next to you and reached for his blazer, smiling at him. You figured you’d go a little easy on him, leaving the belt for another time.

‘‘I’d take that off if I were you,’’ you told him, nodding to the shirt he was still wearing. He had no idea what you were up to and while part of him wanted to question you on it, he kept his mouth shut and did exactly as he was told to do when he saw that cute grin on your face and mischievous twinkle in your eye. Taking the shirt off, he let it fall to the floor next to your bed before leaning back. You hummed softly and grabbed his hands, holding them above his head and against the metal bars of your bed. When you moved your body up a bit to hover above his chest, wrapping the sleeves of his blazer around his wrists and your bed, he widened his eyes a little. ‘‘W-What are you d-doing?’’ he stuttered out in a panic, looking at you when you moved down again after you had made sure he was firmly tied up. His brain and body were fighting each other─while he was in slight panic and confusion, maybe he was even a little scared, the bulge that was formed in his pants told a whole ‘nother story. You bit your lip as you giggled softly, hands pulling the zipper of his pants down.

‘‘If you want me to stop, all you need to do is say so, Elvis,’’ you hummed, fluttering your eyelashes at him innocently. When you pulled his pants down a little and traced your fingertips along the aforementioned bulge over the fabric of his boxershorts, he groaned softly, his toes curling involuntarily. Maybe the best thing to do here was to think with the rational side of his brain. He didn’t even know you and here he was, tied up in your bed after not even having been in your apartment for fifteen minutes. Instead, he let go of the reigns and let his body take over, muscles in his lower abdomen tightening with anticipation as you took his pants completely off, pulling them off of his ankles. You smiled at him as you shot him a quick wink, settling yourself on your knees in his spread out legs. He felt exposed under your intense gaze and a blush crept onto his cheeks as you very obviously looked at the small stain that had formed in the fabric of his underwear because he was leaking already. In his defense, it had been probably over a year since he had sex with anyone and while he wouldn’t admit it, he was desperate. Desperate to be touched, to be held, to be loved. Even if it was done by a stranger for just one night somewhere in the dead of the night in Paris.

You moved your hands up his thighs, feeling how tense he was made you smile. You were sure nobody ever has had Elvis in this kind of position and you kind of felt honored to be the first one. Usually, you wouldn’t be so bold with first-timers. You at least gave them some kind of warning first, tell them what you were into, the kind of role you liked in the bedroom. But God, it was like you could barely contain yourself when it came to him. Tough, dominant exterior… and you couldn’t wait to crack it. To break him.

When your hands disappeared into the legs of his boxershorts and your hand wrapped around his cock, he gasped as his fingers grasped onto the fabric of the blazer he was tied up with. You squeezed him in your palm softly as your hand moved up, fingertips caressing the head of his cock to spread some of the slick of his precum around. His eyes fluttered shut as you started jerking him off very slowly and softly, though the squeeze of your hand was firm. As you looked up at him and saw how his face was silently contorted in pleasure, you grinned devilishly to yourself and stopped your movements, pulling your hand out of his underwear.

‘‘I can always stop if you want me to,’’ you spoke casually and his eyes shot open, widening as he looked at you. He inhaled some air, clearing his throat as he shook his head, heat rushing to his face. ‘‘N-No.. P-Please.. Don’t stop,’’ he whispered, bucking his hips up a little and you just loved the desperation that was lingering on the back of his tongue. You could see how much it took for him to even say that, but you were sure you could have him begging before the sun came up. You flashed him a sweet smile, hooking your fingertips behind the hem of his boxershorts as you pulled them down without warning. Excitement bubbled in Elvis’ stomach as you took them all the way off and threw them behind you, moving yourself to sit on your ass in between his slightly spread legs, your dress riding up─when you put your legs over his thighs, pretty much trapping him on your bed, he had the perfect view of your lace panties. He goddamn nearly lost his mind and you hadn’t even done anything.

‘‘Have you ever been edged, Elvis?’’ You questioned sweetly as your nails caressed up his thighs, making goosebumps cover every inch of his skin. He inhaled a shaky breath as your hands creeped closer to his cock and no matter how much he anticipated the feeling of your hand wrapping back around him, the feeling never came. His eyes met yours as he shook his head, fingertips releasing around his blazer, gently grabbing onto the bars of your bed. ‘‘No.. What’s that?’’ He asked, the question making him feel inexperienced, as if he was about to have his virginity taken away. He hated that feeling, but when you gave him a sweet smile, he almost melted. He had no idea what it was about you that had this kind of effect on him, but he was excited to see what you had in store for him. Nervous too, but good nervous.

‘‘Hmm.. I think it’s better if you go in blindly to experience it. Do you trust me?’’ You asked him, your hands squeezing his thighs a little and he bit his lip, staring at you for a few seconds. He was trying to crack his brain as to what it could be what you were about to do, but he was so turned on and so desperate, that he nodded before he could even stop himself. Weirdly enough, he did trust you to some point. You had him tied up in your bed already and he was still alive─what could go wrong?

He hated himself for agreeing to this. He hated himself, he hated himself, he hated himself. Never ever in his life could he have predicted that he would be in a situation like this. A French showgirl jerking him off to the point of his orgasm nearing, but every time he was about to fall over the edge, you stopped your movements and pulled away your hands, making whine as he grabbed onto his blazer and the metal bars harder, chest heaving as he pushed his head back in the pillow. You were only on the third round and while you had given him a safe word, he hadn’t used it yet. He couldn’t, not when you’d go back and start all over again, making his body melt back into the bed and his brain turn into cotton.

You were smiling devilishly to yourself, arousal growing between your own thighs every time he whimpered and moaned, his toes curling. The head of his cock was red and angry, desperate for relief but you weren’t giving it to him. Closing your fingertips around the tip to mimick the feeling of him being inside of you, your movements were quick and relentless, your other hand massaging his balls skilfully. He lifted his head from the pillow, looking down at you as he breathed heavily through his teeth, jaw clenched. He tried to keep his head up to look at what you were doing, but it was like he no longer had control over his body and he couldn’t stop his head from falling back down. You had pressed your thighs against his, preventing him from closing his legs or moving them. He was writhing in the sheets, hands tugging at the blazer as he was so desperate to touch you, kiss you, fuck you. But you having your way with him was such a sinful pleasure and he didn’t wanted it to stop.

‘‘You’re doing so well, baby,’’ you hummed, praising him as he was moaning pathetically. The compliment had his heart leaping in his chest and he immediately felt his orgasm nearing once more, rolling his head to the side to look down at you. ‘‘P-Please, Y/N,’’

‘‘Please what?’’ you smiled innocently at him, tilting your hand as you slowed down your movements, letting them come to a halt once more when you felt him twitching in your hand and saw the muscles in his lower abdomen tightening. The longer you went on with your little game, the faster his orgasm would peek around the corner. ‘‘I.. I.. I wanna c-cum,’’ he whined with a stutter, his hips thrusting forward as he pushed the back of his head back in the pillow, imagining having your hand around him again. You looked at him and laughed softly, squeezing his balls softly, stealing another soft moan from him. ‘‘So soon?’’

He let out a weak laugh at that, shaking his head side to side in the pillow before he slowly opened his eyes and looked down at you. God, he looked so gorgeous with those flushed cheeks and hint of desperation in those blue eyes. It made your own arousal grow more and more, made you wanna push him further to the edge. ‘‘Three more rounds,’’ you told him and he swallowed thickly, his throat so dry it felt like he was swallowing knives. You gently wrapped your hand around him, slipping it up once as you pouted cutely at him. He licked his lips, hips slowly moving in your hand as he nodded. ‘‘Only three,’’ he said, trying to sound stern, but you didn’t even give him time to recover as you picked up your pace a bit more, making him fall back on the pillow once more. He had no idea if he could even survive three more rounds, but he just couldn’t get himself to use the safe word.

On the fifth round, he didn’t even recognize himself anymore. The moans and whines that were rolling off his tongue sounded foreign to him, his brain completely empty as the only thing he could focus on were your hands that were wrapped around him, doing tricks he never experienced in his 24 years of life. At some points, it felt like he was standing next to the bed, having an out of body experience as he was looking at the whole thing go down but as you stopped your movements once more when he was about to slip into euphoria, he slipped right back into the softness of your mattress. A hot tear rolled down his cheek as he let out an animalistic groan, wrists rubbing painfully against the fabric of his blazer because he couldn’t keep them still.

‘‘Please, please… p-please,’’ he cried out, his hips having a mind of their own as they kept thrusting into nothingness. Your laugh sounded so cruel and hot at the same time, but he wasn’t in the right mind to comment on it. He looked down at you, his cock twitching uncontrollably and desperately. ‘‘Can I cum? Please, I c-can’t.. I can’t anymore,’’

‘‘One more, chéri,’’ you smiled sweetly at him as you kicked the heels you were still wearing off and onto the floor, crawling out from between his legs to sit next to him. You leaned down and kissed his lips. It was only a peck, but he needily tried to chase your lips. He wanted more, he needed more. Since it was his first time, you decided to at least go a little easy on him. You pulled the knot out of the blazer sleeves, letting him lower his arms. He was breathing heavily, rubbing his arms a little to let them get used to the change of position. You quickly got up from the bed and he watched with curious eyes, smiling softly as you came back with a glass of water. Kissing his cheek, you handed it to him and he drank half of it before he put it on the bedside table. You gently pushed him forwards a little, slipping behind him so he’d be in between your legs. The position was foreign to him and it made him feel even more submissive than before, but he loved it.

He was too far gone to even think about how dominant he usually was, and he leaned against you, immediately kissing you back when you planted your lips on his again. His hands were running up and down your legs, squeezing the flesh of your thighs under his palms a little as he moaned when you sucked on his bottom lip. ‘‘I know you can do this, baby,’’ you smiled at him, running your fingers through his hair before you cupped his cheek. He leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he finally had a few minutes to catch his breath before you’d start your delicious torture on him for the last time. ‘‘You’ve done so good all night, baby boy. Are you ready to cum now?’’ You grinned at him and his fingers dug into your skin at the praise and use of the pet name, making his cock twitch needily. He immediately nodded his head, moaning softly as you pecked his lips once more before reaching your hand down, once more wrapping around him.

With his hands free now, he had no idea what to do with them. You had started out slow this time and while he appreciated it, it didn’t take him long to get needy and beg for you to go faster. You gave him what he wanted, your hands moving at a fast and steady pace and with every squeeze of your palm and every swirl of your thumb around his tip, he was getting closer. He threw his head against your shoulder, letting go of your legs to grab onto the sheets for dear life. ‘‘Oh.. F-fuck, p-please, bunny!’’ he was moaning desperately, the pet name slipping out without thinking as he begged for relief and this time, you were more than willing to give it to him. You snaked your free hand around his neck, fingertips holding onto his jaw as you looked down at him with a seductive grin on your face and the only thing he could do was stare at you with wild eyes, moaning in desperation as his hips tried to follow the movements of your hand. ‘‘You’re so pretty, Elvis darling,’’ you hummed, nuzzling the tip of your nose against his and his eyes fluttered shut at the compliment, bringing him closer to the edge. You giggled softly and looked down at his cock in your hand, your cheek pressing softly against his as you still held his jaw in your fingertips. Your grip wasn’t firm, but he liked the position and did not even dare to move away.

‘‘You wanna cum, baby?’’ You questioned sweetly and his knuckles were turning white with how hard he was squeezing your sheets, moaning as his eyes rolled into the back of his head. ‘‘Y-Yes.. P-Please, Y/N.. P-please,’’ he begged, toes curling, arching his back a little. You grinned and turned your head, pressing a tiny kiss against the shell of his ear. ‘‘Cum, chéri. Let it all go, my pretty boy,’’ you whispered in his ear and it was all he needed to hear. He was writhing against you, shameless moans and whines rolling over his tongue as he came undone in your hand─he was squeezing his eyes shut, seeing white spots that contrasted against the dark of his closed eyelids harshly, hips stuttering uncontrollably as he just kept spilling and spilling. In his brain, it felt like ages until he had completely emptied out, with the help of your hand milking all of him. His chest was heaving fast as if he had just ran a marathon, head leaning against your shoulder as a soft whine escaped him when you removed your hand, a big smile on your face.

‘‘Oh my God,’’ he breathed out and you laughed softly, biting your lip as you admired his face from up close while he was catching his breath. He looked so fucked out and so blissful, small grin tugging at his lips. You couldn’t wait to do this and so much more a few more times during his week in Paris─Daisy was going to lose her mind when you’d tell her all about it.

‘‘I need a damn cigarette,’’ he mumbled as you had gotten up from the bed and walked into your bathroom to wash your hands and grab a dampened wash cloth. Walking back to him, you laughed softly and dug your hand into the pocket of his pants, throwing his pack of cigarettes at him. He rolled onto his back, lighting a cigarette as he stared up at the ceiling. ‘‘You’re amazing,’’ he blew out some smoke, his eyes meeting yours as you hovered over him, cleaning him up. You grinned, shooting him a wink. ‘‘I know, baby,’’

He bit his lip at the pet name, bringing himself up to lean on his elbows to get a better view of you. ‘‘Are you free tomorrow? Well… today,’’

You looked at him as you raised an eyebrow, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He held out his cigarette in front of your face and you took a small drag from it, smiling softly at him. ‘‘I can be if you want to,’’ you hummed as you blew out the smoke and he sat up more, crashing his lips onto yours. You giggled softly, slipping one arm around his neck as you kissed him back.

‘‘I want to,’’ he breathed as he pulled back from the kiss, his forehead against yours. ‘‘Will you wait? Less than a year, and I’ll get out of the army,’’

You pulled back and raised both your eyebrows now, looking at him in surprise. You honestly hadn’t expected him to ask you this─you weren’t planning on letting this be a one time thing, but you thought you would’ve worked harder to keep him around. After all, he was the man. Could get anyone he wanted, had girls lining up in every corner of the world. What you didn’t know, was that you completely turned his world upside down. You brought out a side in him that he wasn’t even aware of having, but he wanted to explore that side of himself more. Together with you. You thought he was joking, until he spoke up again.

‘‘Wanna be your pretty boy,’’ he whispered, teeth sinking into his lower lip as heat rushed to his face. You nearly jumped his bones in that exact moment, but you wouldn’t forgive yourself for killing the poor boy on his first night in Paris. You smiled brightly, leaning forward to peck his lips.

‘‘I’ll wait,’’ you told him, tilting your head as you watched him lean back a little. ‘‘But only if you behave yourself with those German girls,’’ you warned him, playfulness lacing your tongue. He caught the playful tone, but he immediately nodded his head and smiled sweetly at you. ‘‘I promise,’’

You looked down at his pinky he was sticking out to you and laughed softly, hooking your own around it as your eyes met his, grin on your face.

‘‘Good boy,’’

[eff-plays]

I’m trying to figure out why it irks me so much to see Astarion with soooo many female Tavs. Art and fics of Astarion with women dominate the Astarion tag and I just wish there was more male content. Maybe it’s because I feel protective over Astarion and his queerness and worry that these writers/artists are erasing that side of Astarion.

Tumblr is a female-dominated website, and RPG fandoms in particular will reflect that with the type of OCs people make. It is what it is :/

It is also not really my place to make any such judgments as a nonbinary straighty. All I can say is, I find it a bit boring to see him with so many, like, just straight up reglier Lavellans lmao. But blue. They're blue Lavellans now. Solavellan did a number on the RPG girlies on this site. Derogatory btw. (I know I said good vibes only but I meant that only for BG3. I am an eternal Dragon Age hater.)

It's just a bit bland, that's all I can say with any sort of authority (aka personal opinion). But a lot of really popular fanart seems to have masc Tavs? I have personally seen plenty of Astarion/M!Tavs, as well. But mostly because Astarion with a female Tav usually means hot elves/drow and my eyes roll back into my head when I see those and my brain blocks them out. And I don't read Astarion x f!Reader type stuff either.

Astarion is pansexual, however, so him being with women is just as valid as him being with men (or nonbinary people, we exist also). Individual writers erasing the fact that he has canonically been with men is one thing, but I don't think just him being with women is the same as erasing that? And you can't really know which writer is and isn't erasing his queerness unless you read all of their content. But again, not my place, just something I've seen people say.

However, I do understand the frustration, where it might feel like erasure just from the sheer amount of one type of content specifically overshadowing everything else.

All in all, it's complicated, and I don't think it's my place to make any sort of judgment on this. Aside from "Hmm. Boring." Which might not be what you want, and I'm sorry for that.

[capcavan]

idk if you've done it b4 but rank the aftg characters by how much you like them or find them interesting or whatever u want

done it few times but I'm always happy to talk about how much I love Riko 1. Riko I projected onto him had and md dissociate about him every day he's my pookie patootie and there is no logic or reason involwed in the way i interact with his character. He is alive in my heart and alive in my heart he will stay. ---- everyone else (I am delusional and mentally ill about riko) based on being my muse for art and writting 1. Riko Moriyama --- i will be honest the spots below this line do not matter much just depends what i draw or roleplay that week 2. Renee Walker (Beside every great man is great woman @leedee013) 3. Jean Moreau & Elodie- Inclusion of his sister in narrative even though extremally brief made me feel extremally deeply about him. 4. Jeremy Knox I think he leaves a lot of space for fucked up and I'm extremally attracted to design and headcannosn I made for him 5. Robin cross , adore her lore even without her attachement to other foxes as well as have a lot of ideas I can explore with her inclusion 6. Nathan Wesninski, hes hot, propably cannibal and provides so many angst opportunities but also? i like big beffy men and this is how i draw him. 7. ichirou moriyama , to be fair i do not like him at all but he is in my art and writtign frequently bc again a lot of creative stuff i can do here sorry for leaving kevin out of this he needs to be humbled a bit! I like foxes just fine but based on content i make and stories i explore i just did not developed as many headcannons and stuff for them

to be fair kengo should be higher idk why it put him this low

[builtbybrokenbells]

Hi t!! I just read Reaching New Heights and I've never liked a fic so fast. Bless that anon for sending the ask and thank you for making it come true in the best way. I have to admit I'm a sucker for soft virginity/first time trope, maybe because it's something I've never had. It's so soft and sweet and smoking hot all at the same time and the epitome of fictional men written by women (I mean this as a compliment and I'd choose fictional men over men in real life any day, duh) it instantly reminds me of the episode on Unwaxed podcast where Emily Morse talked about how some so many portrayal of sex scenes in movies and stuff aren't realistic like women actually need time to properly warm up and it's just not realistic for them to have an orgasm in two minutes in an elevator or something. I mean we can all dream in fictional world, but it's just awesome from time to time to read something that has the proper build up (the part with the kisses rather than just rushing into it....top tier writing) I saw dee reblogs it with the tag "men take notes" and I 🙌🙌🙌 I am on my period and anxious as f^ck because of a task I have for tomorrow but coming cross this piece of art feels like a kiss on the forehead. bless your heart for making a stranger feel so soft, mushy, and happpy that she cries a little....THANK YOU SO MUCH. (I am sorry if this is long and TMI, I'm sorry if this sounds awkward....lqiudghxiy I just really need to say it out loud because it's just soooooo goooooood)

Hello, lovely 🤍 let me just say, your words have kept a smile on my face all day long. I wanted to take a minute to formulate a proper response, because you have no idea how appreciative I am for you!

I have also found myself enjoying the virginity/first time trope, and I tend to believe that it’s because my first time was nothing short of awful (and that’s putting it… lightly) and I have spent my entire life dreaming of fictional men that would treat me better than real life men.

I was so nervous to post it, as well as Picasso, which I posted some time ago, now. It was my way of airing out my desire for someone who treated me well, yet I still recognized that first time fics are very difficult to write well. I also fear that with a request like such, that I cannot capture the readers vision as clear or well as they would like me to.

As I posted it and read some messages and comments, I realized that there’s a lot more people who have had the same types of experiences and feelings about the topic than I originally thought. To hear that this made you feel such a way makes me incredibly happy, and I cannot express my gratitude enough.

As for the details, sometimes I feel like it’s easy to forget the build up in lieu of the main event. Especially when there’s so many fics out there that are hot, and exceptionally well written. I hate to say that I did end up cutting out quite a bit of stuff from the main draft, and now that I read this, it makes me feel as though I should have left it. To know that was the part that stuck out with you makes me incredibly happy, because it stuck out to me, too. (I swear I could write a novel about good foreplay and only that, because that’s how much it means to me.)

Good banter and build up are just as essential as the main event to me while creating a scene, as well as a relationship to the story. In a world where it’s normalized for men to leave women unfulfilled, I think it’s quite important to focus on that more than anything else, especially in these types of fics.

I am so grateful for your kindness, and for everyone else who took time to leave a comment. Messages like this and people like you are the reason I come on here and share my work, and I would not be here without your support. Thank you so much for brightening my day, and I’m so glad that my writing could bring you so much joy.

I hope your task tomorrow goes well, and thank you again for being my shred of happiness for the day 🤍

[finkinthisfrew]

Anything (Pt.2)

A Matty Healy Fanfic

cw: non-lifethreatening burns

Chapter 2

I came to in what can only be described as a very peculiar situation. I was fully clothed, laying in a bathtub, soaking wet. Above me, I could see concrete ceilings with warm glowing lights, and a hand holding a showerhead. Cold water poured over my chest, and I sat upright quickly in a panic. Turning to see the owner of the hand, I was once again met with those chocolate eyes. 

"What the fuck?" I said sitting up, head spinning too much to cringe at my ineloquence.

"I'm so sorry, I know this must be terrifying, but we're just in my flat which is above the coffee shop you were just at." My face must have shown my lack of understanding, so he continued. "I was being a complete bellend and was rushing to get to a meeting I was extremely late for and wasn't looking where I was going. I ran directly into you and when we crashed, my coffee poured all over you. I think with the fall and the shock from the hot coffee you passed out. I didn't know what else to do and your chest was bright red so I grabbed you and took you up here. Fuck me, I'm never asking for my coffee extra hot ever again..." he said, his hands in his head.

He looked up and said with such sincerity "I cannot begin to explain how sorry I am."

The shock from everything must have disoriented me because the first thought that I voiced was: "But what about your meeting?" 

Caught off guard, he looked at me in confusion and then broke into a smile. It was such a charming smile. If I wasn't so disoriented I would have had half a mind to flirt with the handsome stranger who was taking care of me. I also would have half a mind to get up and run, but this man's energy was too genuine, too earnest, for me to feel in any danger. 

"I called and cancelled it. Too busy burning beautiful strangers to do business today." He said rolling his eyes, half-flirting, half-self-patronizing. I laughed in response. 

"How are you feeling?" he asked, the twinkle in his eyes replaced with concern. 

"I think I'm okay." I stopped to assess myself. "I just feel a bit dazed, but otherwise I think I feel fine," I continued. 

At that moment I felt myself begin to shiver. He must have noticed too because he then pulled the showerhead away and started to reach for a towel, but as soon as he did, my chest began to burn with such pain that all I could say was "Oh my God no, bring it back."

"Fuck, sorry!" he said, eyes pained as he turned the showerhead back to my burn. "I'm sorry I didn't think this through. I soaked all your clothes... Fuck I'm so sorry, I didn't know what else to do." 

"That's okay," I said through chattering teeth.

"Here, hold this," he said, handing me the showerhead. "I'll be right back." He ran out of the bathroom, leaving me by myself. I shifted myself to let the water pour down my chest, avoiding my legs so I wouldn't feel as cold. 

Waiting for the stranger to return, still in a bit of a daze, I looked around at my surroundings. The bathroom was thoughtfully decorated- nothing like the bathrooms of the men in my life. The entire room was concrete with high ceilings and a large frosted window. A few ivory towels were hanging on the wall and a bottle of Aesop soap sat next to a beautiful arrangement of dried flowers on the green-tiled sink. Unlit candles sat along a wood shelf that ran along the tub, and a beautiful Moroccan rug lay on the ground, bringing warmth to the almost art gallery-type style of the room.

As I looked around, I reflected on how oddly comfortable I felt, aside from the shivering. The stranger didn't feel like a stranger, somehow. His personality felt... almost familiar.

"Okay," I heard, as the man entered the bathroom again a few minutes later, arms full, breaking my train of thought. 

Setting everything down on the wooden stool he'd previously been sitting on, he kneeled next to the tub and rambled on quickly: "Okay, so here is a mug of tea to warm you up a bit, I've only got peppermint though, I hope that's okay, and here are some painkillers- I could only find Advil but I'm pretty sure I've got some T3's hiding somewhere, I just need an extra minute to find them if you'd prefer those. I wasn't sure what would fit you, so I brought a few options- you can borrow those for as long as you like, hell you could even keep them, uhm, right and your burn, we can soak a towel in some cold water to put on it until the ice in my freezer freezes and I can put it in a bag for you- I apologize, I'm one of those knobheads who never refill the tray, so we'll have to wait a bit for that..." 

He must have read my shock as fear, because he then added "And the door to leave is just through this room, straight ahead at the end of this hall down the stairs, just so you know- I don't want you to feel like a hostage. You don't have to stay," he said, wide-eyed. "I just feel bad soaking all your clothes. And for bulldozing you. And for burning you. Fuck, I've really made such a mess of things for you, I am so incredibly sorry."

Realizing I hadn't yet, I accepted his apology. "Thank you, but it's really not a big deal. I'm just in a bit of a shock, but I think I'm okay." I said, looking down at myself, not seeing any blisters or blood anywhere. His eyes still looked pained, so I tagged on "I forgive you, you know," playfully, and his tense face seemed to soften a bit, smiling back at me. "You really shouldn't, I really am trouble," he said winking cheekily. 

I then realized that my initial shock was wearing off, and it was being replaced by a new one. This man was so incredibly handsome. His chocolate eyes were framed with beautiful dark brown curls that fell across his forehead perfectly. His eyes crinkled with such kindness and warmth, I felt my stomach flutter. His smile was upending, impossible to not smile back at. I had just noticed his chest tattoo peaking through the top of his white t-shirt when I saw he had a brown stain all over his front. 

"Wait, are you okay?" I said, pointing to the coffee stain. He looked down to see the stain he'd clearly forgotten about. "Oh yeah, no I'm totally fine. Honestly, I think you took the brunt of it, poor thing. Again, really sorry about that." 

"You say sorry a lot," I responded, smiling. 

"I have lots to be sorry about, unfortunately," he said, chuckling lightly. 

"You sure you don't want a turn?" I asked, gesturing to the showerhead. 

"Yeah, no I think I'm fine." He said, scowling playfully. 

I must have been concussed slightly because I then said "Actually... I think you're not being totally honest with me. I think you might like a turn."  I then turned the shower head to him, quickly and lightly spraying him before returning the stream of water to my burn. 

Mouth agape, he looked at me and said "You little minx." I giggled in response. "You DID assault me and then soak all my clothes... I think it's only fair..." I said with a devilish tone. 

"You wouldn't dare," he scoffed.

That was all the encouragement I needed, and he must have seen that in my eyes because right as I turned the showerhead back at him, he hopped up to his feet. Both of us laughing, he stretched his arms out to block the cold water that now soaked him. 

"Mercy, mercy!" he begged while laughing. 

I lowered the stream of water, and I momentarily admired the new tattoos I could see through his now-soaked t-shirt. Taking advantage of my mercy, he lunged at my hands to grab the showerhead from me. I turned to pull it out of his reach, but he was faster, arms around me gripping at the handle. 

"Now you're in trouble, pet" he laughed, and I squealed in his arms as he sprayed me. I wriggled around trying to escape the stream and I yelled "I yield!" when he lowered the stream back to my burn, both still laughing, his arm still around my waist. 

Our giggles dying down, we stood there, much too close for two strangers. 

The energy shifted as we both noticed the intimacy of the moment. Panting from the laughter, he looked down at me as I looked up at him. His eyes, whatever was going on behind them, did something to me- my stomach sent into a frenzy of summersaults. His curls dripped with water down onto my face, a single drop hanging from his parted lips. I looked back up from his lips to his eyes and saw his eyes returning to mine from my own lips. We stood there for what could have been hours or seconds, I couldn't tell from all the butterflies that roared in my stomach. 

Overwhelmed, I dropped my gaze, the intensity of the moment causing me to break it. He cleared his throat and pulled his arm away, once again apologizing. 

"Sorry really is your favourite word, isn't it?" I said, attempting to break the tension. Once again, he smiled and I felt woozy from it. 

"Not my favourite, but it's definitely up there." He said, handing me a towel with a cheeky smile. He grabbed another towel and started to pat his hair dry. 

"I'll leave you to change, I'm going to go change too after my well-deserved payback soaking." He winked before he continued "Take your time. Once you've finished you can meet me in the living room- it's through here, past the stairs, at the end of the hallway." 

"Thank you," I said, genuinely. We smiled at each other, as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Shell-shocked, I turned to look at myself in the mirror. I stared at my soaked and stained clothes, hair dripping wet, and face bewildered. 

What have I gotten into?

[cadmusfly]

#I have thoughts on Pokémon teams for some of the marshals omg pleaseee make a post about it i would love to read it <3

Made those tags on this post by @bambooale - and yeah, I love Pokemon ever since I played Pokemon Blue as a small child and named my Venusaur "AAAAAAAAA" so I definitely have pokemon thoughts!

I was thinking about answering this in the form of drabbles but I do have Assignments, but I am Tempted to write some silly fanfic about this at some point.

Edit: I wrote fanfic oops

Michel Ney and a Balloon

Young Murat and Bessieres and art by @apurpledust !!!

Anyway, using this page to put together pokemon teams for Lannes, Murat, Ney, Bessières, Soult, Masséna, Davout and Napoleon, and feel free to disagree or talk about your own thoughts!

-

Lannes

Dubwool, Ampharos, Aegislash, Diggersby, Ceruledge, Falinks

Obviously Lannes needs the two sheep(ish) pokemon in his team: Dubwool and Ampharos. Even if Ampharos loses its wool as it evolves, maybe he got it as a cute Mareep and still loves it.

The other pokemon are based on him as an infantry commander who participated in besieging fortifications - Diggersby for tunnelling, Aegislash and Ceruledge as... swords, ghostly swords who "fell before accomplishing their goal"

and Falinks, well, Lannes was known as the Roland or Achilles of the Grande Armee, Achilles was Greek, Falinks is kinda Greek-

but I was also thinking that Falinks fits Napoleon a lot as well, especially with seeing that drawing by bambooale-

What if Napoleon looked after Lannes' Falinks after he died?

Interesting thoughts.

-

Ney

Mudsdale, Pyroar, Armarogue, Talonflame, Lycanroc, Drifblim

The entire reason I started thinking about this was because I thought it would be extremely funny if Ney had a Drifblim because of the time a guy claimed to have invented a hot air balloon for battlefield reconnaissance, sold the idea to Ney and promptly disappeared with the money.

It would be even funnier if in Poke-verse, the guy sold Ney a Drifloon.

Mudsdale is because Ney started out as a hussar/cavalryman, Pyroar because "that man is a lion!", Talonflame is a brave bird that has the powerful recoil-causing moves Brave Bird and Flare Blitz, Midnight Lycanroc is red and loves to charge in, Armarouge is also red, loyal and gallant.

-

Murat

Rapidash, Milotic, Sylveon, Gallade, Sirfetch'd, Vanilluxe

Obviously a horse man needs a horsie, and a fiery unicorn is definitely up Murat's alley. As the beau sabreur of France, he also needs valiant swords-pokemon by his side, and also the most fashionable and beautiful pokemon with him, such as one that grows from an unassuming fish into a splendid creature and one that evolves with love and affection.

I was stuck on the last pokemon to give him. It's a bit anachronistic, but what if King of Naples had, uh, Neapolitan ice cream.

Sorry.

Also Rapidash and Sylveon go along with...

-

Bessières

Galarian Rapidash, Zebstrika, Swanna, Indeedee, Furfrou, Glaceon

Another horse man obviously needs a horsie, and look, I enjoy Murat and Bessières's friendship and shipping, I do like the idea of paralleling them with their Rapidashes and Eeveelutions.

I was thinking Umbreon because Umbreon is my favourite eeveelution and Umbreon evolves via happiness, but Glaceon's hair kinda fits and Bessières was described as seeming to be "cold". Ah well, I'm sure Glaceon loves him anyway.

Zebstrika is another horse, and Bessières is described as having eyes that "project lightning bolts". I think there's a description of his manor's lake having swans, and he did teach his men to swim at one point? Indeedee is a gentlemanly pokemon, and Furfrou, there was a claim that Bessières was a hairdresser at one point, and he does wear his hair in "dog ears".

-

Soult

Dachsbun, Appletun, Smeargle, Oranguru, Thievul, Skarmory

I could have filled this all up with baking jokes. Dachsbun, Appletun, Centiskorch, Alcremie, Slurpuff, uh, maybe I couldn't. Exeggcute. Anyway.

Soult had an appreciation for art and took some from the pieces that had already been looted, and I think with him being known for Strategy he might enjoy Smeargle's potential in learning Any Move. Oranguru is a teacher, Soult was a drill sergeant, same thing, right.

Thievul... Soult was not the worst plunderer but gained a reputation for being such. I was thinking a dark type to represent that reputation (as well as the Roi Nicolas thing) and tossing up between Liepard - as the Dalmatia coat of arms has leopards - and Thievul. But then I thought about the Duke of Wellington going "View Halloo! I have you now!" to Soult, years later, and the association of that kind of cry with fox hunting, and the legend of Wellington going fox hunting with French soldiers, and that clinched it.

Skarmory is because I wanted a steel type for Monsieur "Iron-Arm", a lot of steel-types I've already put aside for the obvious, and Skarmory is my favourite Pokemon. Their feathers harden in the thorny nests that they grow up in, that's totally like what Soult did at the camps of Boulogne right.

-

Masséna

Clefable, Klefki, Gholdengo, Persian, Sneasler, Grimmsnarl

I admit I got a bit stuck here.

Sneasler, Klefi and Grimmsnarl are inspired by Masséna as a smuggler before rejoining the army, with Sneasler helping out in the mountainous areas.

Clefable is based on thoughts of the "Dear Child of Victory" - I didn't want to use Legendaries here, otherwise there is Literally A Victory Pokemon - and I kinda characterise Masséna in my head as a gambler, so a pokemon with Metronome makes sense to me.

Persian and Gholdengo is because he did like his plundering and he was pretty salty about losing his "Livorno millions"!

-

Davout

Metagross, Bisharp, Lucario, Corviknight, Bastiodon, Swellow

Oh look this is where all the steel types went, to the Iron Marshal. I really wanted him to have Metagross and Bisharp as they'd make great buddies for a tactician and strategist, and then the other three steel types are also just cool for the goddamn Iron Marshal.

Swellow is purely because of the cute partridge story (and this is the second time I've referenced something @northernmariette has posted!). Swellow also has the ability Guts, where its attack rises if it is afflicted with a status problem. I think Davout is pretty gutsy, too!

-

Napoleon

Empoleon, Dragapult, Vespiquen, Clawitzer, Falinks, Braviary

Napoleon needs an Empoleon, the pokemon literally named after Napoleon.

Dragapult and Clawitzer are artillery pokemon. Vespiquen and Braviary are symbolic of the First French Empire, with Vespiquen's rulership over Combees being very fitting.

And Falinks could both represent the Grande Armee... and also be a remnant of his fallen friend.

-

Miiiiight write some fanfic for this if the inspiration hits and I survive this last week.

Thank you very much for the ask though! I leave you with a meme screenshot from the Pokemon game set in Pokemon France:

[khayalli]

How do you art. My ability has left me and a block has taken its place

(This is my second time trying to do this, tumblr I will blow you up PERSONALLY)

First off I am giving the biggest hugs!!! Art blocks suck and I'm sorry to hear that it's bringing you down :(

I think the best thing to do is figure out what's causing your artblock. Everything I'm about to ramble about is personal experience so if it doesn't apply throw me another ask or DM! I'm always happy to talk to people!

In my experience, artblock usually comes from a very mental place. Creative have a bad habit of equating their worth to what they create/the quality of what they create.

You are more than content!!! Your art is a wonderful thing about you, but it's not your entire worth as a person. So if you fail, or you suck, that doesn't mean that you as a person fail/suck. So if that's in your noggin, start niggling that little bitch out. Yeet it into the sun!!!!! She's useless and adds nothing to the conversation!!!!!!!!

Don't be afraid to create bad art, either. I can't express to you how many aborted files I have in my folder because I thought "it's not good enough. Scrap it"

But my biggest leaps of progress come from me being like "this sucks, but I'm going to finish it anyway" you learn WAY more with bad art than you will with good. Analyse and deconstruct after you've finished creating, not during. Have fun while you're doing it. Fuck around and find out. Get manic with it. Cackle into the abyss. Create with the joy of a 5 year old that has no idea what notes/reblogs are and just loves this silly purple guy.

Ability fluctuates as your eyes get better at spotting what's good/bad. Your art probably isn't bad. Your eyes are just much keener now at picking these things up! Your hands just haven't gotten the memo yet.

SO! Here are some actionable ways you can break art block, or at least create a little bit:

Make art that sucks and learn to be uncomfortable with it. Find joy in shitty art. I'm a lot happier now that I do this!

Finish it or post it anyway!

Speak to your creative friends, or fandom friends! A lot of my inspo comes from them because they inspire me all the time. Bouncing ideas off eachother helps a lot with idea generation, and staying excited about it.

Prompt generators and those expression memes! They take the thinking part out and you can concentrate on just drawing

Art trades, or even collaborations! Having someone else there always adds more motivation

Pose studies, a lot of my stuff is just pose studies that I warped into hot turtle men. It's another one where I don't have to think, just create.

Writing down those ideas you get at 3am so that when you're stuck you can go look at a list

I hope this helps a little. This sort of thing is hard to deal with, and I understand how frustrating it is when you want to draw but you just can't seem to (I went a year without picking up a pen, shudders). I promise that with gentle effort and genuine kindness to yourself, it can get better! I'm rooting for you!!!

(Sorry for how much I rambled on, this is something I'm very passionate about and in the trenches with also)

[beskarinhyperspace]

Moon Dust

I'm not really doing anything right?  

More Chapters | MASTERLIST

1. The Contract

*Mature, Explicit, NSFW*

Din Djarin x fem.reader

Word Count:  1.6k 

Fluff, shy/insecure Mando, mando is obsessed with you, mando have angst and ptsd, protective Mando, he needs a hug, plot with p, soft Din Djarin, no y/n, reader doesn't have a name  

A/N; This take place after S2, the plot is drifting from canon. It is its own story but the elements and universe remains SW inspired.

The Mandalorian was planning on keeping himself busy. Going back to Nevarro, he no longer had the child with him, which weights on his mind more than he thought it would. Even if  knew he will be protected and cared for, he couldn't help it. He missed the child deeply. 

Lowering the ramp of the crest, the sand felt hot as it reflected the sun's heat. Blinded by it, he pressed the side of his helmet. Activating a sun shield in his visor. Legs heavy, he slowly began to walk it down. He didn't want to be here, but hey, better this than sitting in the shower under running water for hours.    

He made his way towards the plaza, going to his favorite vendor to buy some dried meat and snacks for later. Thanking the men, he turned his head slightly to the side. Automatically being drawn to a woman who seemed to be talking with the high magistrate. Frozen in place, he couldn't move his eyes away from her.  

“Sir? Do you need something else?” the men asked.   

Realizing he had never moved, the mandalorian turned back to him. “N-no, I’m sorry. Have a nice day..” saying to the vendor before walking towards another building. 

__   

Once inside, he sat on a couch, waiting for his appointment. He realized that it had never really happened to him before. Stopping, just to look a woman like that. He felt embarrassed. It’s not even like he could see her body or anything. She was all covered, even having a scarf hiding half of her hair. It was her eyes, he couldn’t think about anything else but her eyes.    

Lost in thoughts, he didn’t heard the steps coming closer to him. A woman looked at him from the end of the hallway. “Sir, high magistrate Karga will be receiving you in his office. You may wait inside, he will be joining you shortly.”   

The Mandalorian nodded his helmet to her, getting up he moved to the office door. While entering he couldn't help but notice Karga, still outside with the girl walking towards the building. He noticed that she also looked a bit sadder than earlier. He moved around trying not to look at her. He felt like a weirdo, just staring at her as she was a bounty. Trying to keep his eyes off her, he glanced around the room, examining the different art pieces in the office. 

After a while, the high magistrate entered the room. “Mando! So nice to you back my friend.”   

“It’s been a while.” stating as he went to shook his hand.   

“I thought you didn’t want to be in the guild anymore. Which, I must be honest, saddens me. You’re our best one!” Karga said with a full bright smile as he sat in his chair.   

The Mandalorian tilted his head slightly. “Thank you, I am indeed here for new bounty pucks. If you do happen to have some.”   

The high magistrate looked down at his desk. “Well.. no, I don’t, but I believe you’re also good with cargo, are you not?”   

“I don’t do cargo deliveries anymore, if that’s what you mean.” He answered simply.  

Starring at him into his visor, Karga played with a single piece of metal credit in between his fingers. “That’s a shame. I had an amazing pay for this one. It needs to be shipped to a planet on the edge of the outer rim. The woman seemed to also be in a hurry..”   

Automatically the man in beskar thought of the woman Karga was talking to outside. Without further hesitation, he nodded to him. “Sure, what is it..”   

The high magistrate rises from his chair, clapping his hands together. “That’s the mando I know! I will go get her.” He went to the door, telling his assistant to get the woman for him. 

“You had her on standby?” tilting his helmet on its side.    

Karga, smiled to himself and let a mature woman entered the room. She wasn't the same one he saw earlier, having an instant feeling of disappointment, which he is happy the helmet is covering.   

He presented her to the Mandalorian, “This is Eyla, her husband owns an export, import business. They do all kinds of deliveries. I often order from them. They’re best in the rim!” The woman coughed, letting him know that he was going off track. “Yes, yes,” he said glancing at her before turning back to mando. “She needs someone to bring her daughter on a safe travel to tatooine.” He walked back to the door letting the girl in. “This, is your cargo.” Extending his arm to present the girl.  

As he was standing like a statue he looked at her in shock. She entered the room shyly, playing with her hands almost terrified. She couldn’t even look at mando, feeling small in his presence. He was lost for words, she looked even more beautiful in proximity. He had secretly wished to see her again and maybe even meet her, but he never would've thought she'd be his cargo.. 

Turning to face Karga, “W-what do you mean by, she is the cargo?” Not understanding what is at risk here.   

The magistrate was about to speak but the woman cuts him off. Looking at the Mandalorian directly into his visor. “My daughter is promised to a rich man by my husband, a weapon manufacturer. He is not only entitled, but also vile. I was in the same situation when I came to coruscant, my daughter deserves freedom. That is why I'm sending her to my sister on tatooine. She will be safer from her father and brother there.” The woman said, pleading the man.   

Still speechless, he glanced at the younger woman. Who still looked terrified of him. He wasn't prepared mentally for this. Thinking he would just come by and pick up some pucks. He hesitated, knowing she pulled him in like a magnet. He knew he was emotionally weak at the moment, and he didn't want to get attached to another bounty.   

I mean she is scared of me. What’s the worst that can happen?   

“Fine, I'll do it, although I need payment first. I came here for pucks. We will need supplies for this type of travel.” He said, looking at Eyla. “I assume tatooine is where I need to bring you today?”   

The woman shook her head at him. “No, my son is in a meeting right now. We managed to free ourselves only for a short time. We risked a lot coming here for this kind of service. She needs to get back home to eliminate any suspicions until the time is right.”   

“Then when do you need me exactly?” The man in chrome asked tilting his helmet as he holds his waist. 

Looking back at her daughter, Eyla responded to the man. “In a week, the directions and details were already given to mister Karga here. I will give you a third of the payment today. The remaining of it will be handed to you on site when she boards with you. Do we have an accord?”   

He nodding, letting her know that he accepts the job.   

__   

Back on his ship, the Mandalorian puts aways some provisions he bought with the woman’s credits. As he looked around the place, he felt sticky and sweaty from the hot day. Nevarro could be a real pain in the summer. He let out a sigh, removing his helmet. As he gets his armor off, he moved inside the fresher. Stopping in front of the mirror, he examines his face, bringing his hand upward, passing the tips of his finger on his cheeks before moving them on the hair over his chin, inspecting his tired eyes. Thinking of her eyes, scared and avoidant. He pressed his lips together. I can’t.. 

He proceed by turning the shower on. Staying still as he watched the water run, feeling empty. After a moment, he gets in, letting the water drip on his back. Falling in between his shoulder blades. He leaned his head back to wet his hair while his mind goes unconsciously back to her. He grunted feeling his cock already getting harder. "I can’t”, he kept saying to himself.  

Feeling the need growing in him. He starts rubbing the tip of it with his thumb and goes to squeeze the base of his cock. He closed his eyes trying to see her again. The way her eyes were looking at the man outside. Sun in them, like the light would never want to leave them, squinting to see better with her lips forming a smile.. Oh, maker, her lips.   

He squeezed his member harder as he began to move his hand up and down. He reached for the soap with his other one. Her plump lips. He stopped for a moment, coating both his hands with the soapy mixture.    

Turning to face the wall, he puts his hands together. Starting to thrust slowly into them before letting out a deep humming sound. Thrusting faster, he remembered the outline of her breasts through the fabric of her dress. The way they were moving a little when she walked. So plush. He starts letting out more whimpers as he goes faster. Bending his knees a little from the feeling of his pulsing cock fucking his slippery hands. Kriffing hell, she’s so beautiful.   

He couldn't take it anymore, going as fast as he could to end his tormenting need. He lets out a deep grunt as he released himself on the wall. Leaning forward, he dropped his forehead on it. He just stayed like this, resting his head as he came back to his senses. Pushing himself back up, he took the shower head to rinse his hands. As he was looking at them, he felt something snap inside of him. Anger starts to manifest in his chest, making him punch the shower's wall. 

I can’t, protecting her is my job.  

--

If you wish to be added to the Taglist, you can do so by letting me know here

[teddybeartoji]

i found some sketches i did, they're messy plus they're traditional so i'm not sure i wanna send but!!!

bless my mind for drawing geto with a crazy back arch.. and piercings.. yeah that's it that's all i wanted to say

i think this man is just.. perfect... (i wanted to add more about him but it's getting long just know he stands amongst my fav characters of all time and i need him as a husband)

i love him so much actually plus i noticed a blog that does too and they post fanfics as well i think their user is hayakawalove? i dont know i hope i didnt make a spelling mistake but anyways i love their characterization of geto and how they like him a lot because i dont often see geto fans,, a few on twitter but otherwise it's mainly gojo, toji, nanami and choso.. or maybe i'm in denial because i want more geto content 😞😞

so their + your thoughts about him ☺☺ i am well fed, it's keeping me afloat right now

OH I READ AN SMAU TODAY. actually there was another smau that kinda went like this too where reader wanted to peg jjk men and i love how in these 2 smaus i read toji hasnt a problem with it but just straight up doubt reader's dicking skills instead and yeah,, i'm thinking thoughts... imagine that happens and then the reader is so good at railing him it turns his brain inside out and he drools and he just looks at them full of love but also is just so dumbified at this point he feels like he's melting... yeahhhh

(also, i thought maybe i could just make a post with all my jjk sketches even if they're messy and tag you if you want? because i wanna share but i'm hesitant still even after all the reassurance 😭

sorry that ask is messy cuz i kept adding more stuff (as usual)(i still love me some context and bonus thoughts)

~ ☀️

SUGURU WITH PIERCINGS AND A CRAZY BACK ARCH ARE YOU KIDDING ME SUNNNYY????????!?!?!??!!?!?!? WHAT THE FUCK I NEED TO HAVE HIM ASAP. him having many many piercings is canon here in loserville like yeah ear piercings, lip and brow perhaps even a nose piercing. dick piercings. yeahh................... he's so fucking hot fuuck fuck fuck

HAYAKAWALOVE!!!!!!!!!! REM MY BELOVEDD!!!!!!!!! I LOVE REM!!!!!!!!! rahhh omfg i remember when me and rem and kairo aka @/gothsuguru were all going insane abt suguru wearing lingerie lmao i need to get back to that bc holy fuck that's hot...... also him being called mommy? yeahhhh i NEEEED. to do that i love him so much

oh but if you want more of suguru you can also check out summy aka @/ohimsummer and @/lxnarphase and @/ohsuguru and @/13curses they all have some delicious stuff for him!!!!!!!!!! aaaaaand then i have seen @/tojipaws talking abt fem!suguru and i know you like that soo:333333333333 ANDD if you by any chance are open to reading some sfw stuff abt him then i highly recommend checking out @/twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat!!!!!!!

TOJI LOVES GETTING PEGGEDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! it's so fucking hot i need to dick him down so bad i feel dizzy just from thinking abt it ooh my goddd............ he deserves it!!!!!!!!!! he deserves to get his brains fucked out he deserves to be a lil pillow princes!!!!!!!!!!!! i am veery very into that and this is also smth i want to write more abt WAHH SUNNY I LOVE HIM SO BADDD:(((((((((((((( i'm gonna die if i don't talk abt him for more than five minutes it's so bad

ALSO YESS I WANT YOU TO TAG MEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i know it's hard to share smth you've made but please believe me when i say that i would absolutely LOVE to see your art!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALWAYS!!!! no need to ask me either really you could just tag me in anything and everything aaand i'm gonna eat all of that up every single time!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[gay-i]

@strangemiracledeer thank you so much!

my response to this is a bit length so i'll put it under a read more:

for decent digital art, i tend to go for DucHaitenAiArtV4 (but many other models will work well and give similar quality, like DreamFul and DreamShaper and most DucHaiten models that aren't specifically targeting a heavy anime style - but even a model like DucHaitenSuperCute can give some hot digital drawing style results).

when i want to avoid a style too close to anime, i tend to use Deliberate V2, this model can go closer to a more realistic style. unfortunately, i haven't found the HE (HomoErotic) model to produce decent results, the more you try to gain control of the type of body, the worse the results get - hoping for an update to HE that will solve that.

for analog style photos, i use Analog or Redshift (Redshift is harder to get similar results in, but more flexible in what that style can include, while Analog is very specific but more restrictive).

i've recently been experimenting with DucHaitenDarkside, and there may be some darker results coming in the future.

as for prompts, i don't know if i have a lot of great advice, as i tend to shift my prompts quite a bit. on top of that, a lot of my results are formed by prompts i don't feel comfortable sharing at this time (some prompts i feel bad or awkward for having used, but more than that i have a long list of celebrities in my prompts that i weigh against each other to try to form the result without making it look too much like any of the individual men mentioned - with various results, but still something i would like to keep private and personal at this time. sorry).

i do recommend using the () and [] modifiers, increasing and reducing the strength of the prompts respectively, as well as adding negative prompts of things you don't want to see. for example, when i include prompts for "((thick neck))", i make sure to include "jewelry, jewellery, necklace, collar" in the negative prompts, as the "neck" part often adds necklaces to the results instead of or in addition to neck girth. i also try to include both "thick" and "muscular" in a lot of results, while adding overweight-related negative prompts to counteract some of the results from having used "thick." i may be including more intentionally chubby and fat results in the future however, because i want my results to be varied to a degree and i am not in any way against fat people - at this point, the lack of fat people in my results is mainly due to me having a stronger preference for muscular builds and having grown used to navigating prompts around that, but having little to no experience prompting for desired fat content. i've been wanting to address this for a while, so that's why i'm including this here.

i also make sure to increase Steps to the max and sometimes increases Guidance a tiny bit, but i recommend experimenting to find what works for you.

unfortunately it's all a lot of trial and error and many prompts and models can be hit and miss. perhaps in the future, when i have grown even more comfortable with prompts and what works and what doesn't, i can provide a more detailed explanation of what i do and how i do it to get specific results.

[darkfictionjude]

Etymology nonnie here!

1) About 70s fashion: It has good things, of course (and I must admit I completely ignored female fashion because my mind is filled by hot men), all decades have. But I'm someone who will always choose the first half of the 20th century when it comes to fashion. Sorry.

And I do remember the crop tops and slutty shorts men wore at the time. So it's not like I'm immune to the 70s charms. Yet, if I have to say what decade of the 20th century has the worst fashion, I'll still pick the 70s. And say the best fashion is arguably late 1930s, late 1940s or early 1950s. But that's just me.

Yet, I must also speak about the architecture and interior design of the 70s. Is awful. It may be colorful and bright. But it's an acquired taste. And would you really choose anything built on the 70s over Art deco arquitecture? Yeah, I thought so.

2) About sex: Who says sex is irrelevant, dear Jude? I'm all for fictional sex. The thing is, both the Mafia and Hayes coded Hollywood have a level of restrained lust, secret desires and profound yet in denial homoeroticism. It's more of a matter of what flavour you prefer. And as submissive as I can be, and as alluring as Boss who can take my life or reward me as he wishes may be, I'm significantly more seduced by the idea of being forced into a world of hypocrisy, where I can be an active player, a star with my own shine, even if I have a significant part of who I am lost in the shadows. A word that shines like gold, yet hides what truly is going on. A world that is at once desirable and terrying, where there is always a real chance to simply retire and live in the glory, yet the temptation to stay is ever present. A word of appearances, of masks, of beauty, virtue and sin.

It's just so erotic. Even if there wasn't sex involved, it would be so erotic.

3) About superhero IFs. Did the nonnie mean the IF where one of the RO's cucks the MC? I understand the outrage, even though it was an interesting thing to try and it is really obvious is going to happen. But that IF has multiple other flaws stacking over that problem, the cuck situation is just more evident. I think it's made worse because that specific RO is like the most attractive female RO the game offers. Had I been straight or bisexual I would have considered only her as a romance choice. Although, that game didn't have very interesting RO's in my opinion, since most of the interesting characterizations and dynamics went to non romanceable characters. It saddens me the bad reputation that IF has, given that, if I'm correct about what IF the nonnie was referring to, the author is a fellow Latino.

Also, I understand the need to do something because someone said you couldn't do it. But just due to the decade you wanted to set the IF you would have multiple differences with all of the superhero IFs that I know of. Since most are set in modern times. Often, in regards to time frame, what makes them interesting is that they are an example of alternate history. Like Fallen Hero (God has forsaken me and made me, even if he is non existant, into the fan who brings up Fallen Hero in every conversation).

The thing is, superhero stories do offer a lot of variety. From the themes, the conflicts, the way the powers are relevant to the story or not (for example Unsupervised allows such a variety of powers they are not as central to the narrative as Fallen Hero, in which the story does not work if Sidestep had another variation of super powers).

4) Apologies to Selfie again. I do also think you are cool still. And support you being horny publicly. I'll never be as brave (this is not a backhanded compliment, yet I'm aware it could be understood as such, hence this explanatory parenthesis). I'm too fond of playing around identity, I guess. And anonimity provides something exciting. Weirdly erotic, if you will. A mask. I'm a gray being in the minds of others, a non presence who is also present. It's natural for me to identify more with an actor than to with a mafia member. Even if both include lies, acting and secrets.

5) War can be won, fellow nonnies! I believe in our cause! I may have lost the options I wanted the most, but I will not die on the embarrassment of defeat! No. Yet, I depend on you. May you be the strength I cannot give anymore, and let my spirit fill you with my support. Believe in my smile, my fraternal embrace, the gleeful light in my eyes. Believe on our cause, fellow nonnies! We can win this round!

Ok I do like art deco buttttt I also love sleazy 70s mafia aesthetic the leopard print, the abundance of gold and the smell of cigars

Yeah I heard of that IF it’s always a source of contention on the forums and Reddit 😭

Yeah I think that’s one of the interesting things about the superhero IF it’s not in modern day, it’s 50s Americana

Maybe you can finally get selfie to see the light! They are refusing to leave the cave and prefer to look upon the wall (Plato reference)

I love this IF war going on it invigorates me 😌

[starsapphire]

25 17 12 8 9 & 3 for the choose violence ask game...I love ur haterisms you're always so correct in it

HI ignore how long it took me to answer this. thank u i hope i am not just a mutual to u but also an irredeemable hater

25. common fandom complaint that you’re sick of hearing

you know what? trying to answer this one made me immensely grateful for how normal the mutual circle is. couldn't think of anything. thanks guys 🩷

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

i know you're here for dc but i must speak my truth. we need more johnnywyatt content in the marvel fandom. spideytorch is dead. it's never going to happen. peter is either straight or too oblivious to ever realise he likes men and either way marvel is going to be milking the petermj divorce remarriage magic-divorce remarriage divorce remarriage cycle in every media form possible until the company shuts down. maybe in the ultimate universe i could see spideytorch working out but it literally exploded. rip gay emo 1610 johnny but we need to move on. i'm sorry everyone. HOWEVER. we are ignoring the beautiful truth of johnny storm and his hot 6-foot-massive husband. when i think about them my mind fills with static but like. he doesn't have powers. johnny is a living star. and he will still step in front of johnny every time. he treats johnny's niece and nephew like his own. they're married in every sense but legally. only 37 works in the ao3 tag. we are living in hell. at this point i will take crumbs from dan slott. DAN SLOTT. but i stay silly

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

zinda blake. purely because of "holy crow! the boy is FANCY?!"

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

ummmm everything about the "stalker tim" thing. like no he did not follow batman and robin around with a camera for 5 years. janet and jack didn't send him to school at arkham ok he was not able to escape every weekend and go downtown in gotham at 3am. but also i have seen people be very adamant that tim did not stalk batman and robin until jason died (which like. if he hadn't followed anything about batman and robin in that period, how would he know how much more violent bruce was getting or that robin had changed hands?) and that's not true. he was stalking them neil josten style. i want to see his creepy stalker binder full of newspaper clippings. from actual newspapers. like a psychopath

9. worst part of canon

cassie sandsmark's stupid fucking costume for the last 20 years. i would suffer through tom king's writing just to see her in a normal outfit i'm dead fucking serious. i'd buy the fucking issue. her ugly ass britney spearsification twig arms tt2003 redesign deals me actual psychic damage when i have to look at it (IT WAS SO OOC and johns' justification was so misogynistic. what if i kms) and every time i have to see cassie's stupid fucking impractical little girl eight-year-old-in-2011 outfit from rebirth i want to die. there's this one panel i saw that i cannot find where diana, donna, and yara are walking in their really beautiful, regal armour, looking like warriors, ready for battle, and then cassie is next to them in her skort. it's so embarrassing… someone please free my girl. actually free her from everything originating in tt2003 she deserves so much better

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you’ve seen on tumblr

i get what they're trying to say but also I Was Literally There And That Is Not What Happened

<3

[bnnuy-wabbit]

HAAIIIIII you can call me Lago, im 21 (i dont know how EITHER), im just some guy*. this is my main blog and where i throw funny things that makes my brain produce juices and also random ass personal poasts.

one of those he/shes they never warned you about (pathogenic variant they have yet to make any vaccines to protect you from)

my art tag is #feral art tag.

there will be adult things in this blog because im an adult. follow at your own risk etc. were horny in here towards men occasionaly.

I'm brazilian. From Brazil. As in born here, living here and stuck here for the foreseeable future. é nois 🤙

Everybody says I'm really nice! I am Unable to hit people up first though, but if you'd like to be friends, send me an ask and I'll give you my discord!!!!

i have many interests (mostly music and nerd shit) and funny things that I'll be putting under the read more lest this post get Unbearably Big. There are flashing blinkies down there by the way.

OK SO INTERESTS. I like MANY things! and i have favorite things! I think it's really cool of me to have favorites. i decided I'm going to wear them on my sleeve. anyways Here's some things i Like.

MUSIC!!! its one of my favorite things ever. I play the guitar and a bit of bass. heres stuff in no particular order of favoriteness. Just stuff i care enough right now to remember.

Linkin Park (meteora, hybrid theory <3)

My Chemical Romance

Red Hot Chili Peppers

Mindless Self Indulgence

scalene

Rammstein

Ft-rj (listen to it or i am going to chase you with a broom)

francisco el hombre (i recommend the rasgacabeza album)

danny bond

2000-10s pop!!! fuck it, lady gaga, britney spears, kesha, katy perry, black eyed peas, that sorta jazz.

Every single Homestuck song there is. i have listened to all of them multiple times. My favorite albums are colours and mayhem and also the beforus fan album.

Dad rock (acdc, queen, talking heads, nirvana, judas priest, Some pink floyd etc)

Industrial and Adjacent. I've been listening to code:redcore a lot and some grammostola actaeon lately. processor also fucks.

OTHER THINGS I ENJOY

Eragon (the books)

Disco elysium.

ADVENTURE TIME. I AM OBSESSED.

How to train your dragon (the books. specifically.)

Animated movies!!! Specially the hand drawn ones.

My horrible little OCs (@honsebeasts just go there but also Beware.)

Worldbuilding. I do aliens and monster speculative biology. Most of my thoughts on it are on the Above mentioned blog though.

Real life physiology and anatomy also

MEN (and like 3 fictional women.)

HORSES!!!!!!!!!!!

stranger things

Pokemen (i do not know a single thing after gen 6 though.)

Dungeons and dragons, sometimes

Traditional art like watercolors and oil pastels

Drawing my blorbos in the same side facing pose or just standing there.

Drawing in General actually! Designing characters is my passion

Fictional fathers

sewing and felting and sculpting and painting and singing and playing

COLORS. i love colors. i love looking at them. i love playing with them. i would like to eat them if i could. i love warm palettes.

Hiveswap (pissing screaming CRYING)

MONSTERS!!!!!! They're really cool and gay and hot.

Portal (the games. all of them. glafos........ kissing her)

Half Life.

y2k and 80s-90s vibes. i think its awesome.

I am afflicted by the human condition and also a few other funnier conditions. my brain and my body dont work right.

If you want to know the brunt of the brain ones: autism adhd avpd. they all impact heavily how i interact with people with people. Sorry in advance if i can't keep conversation going.

I'm some sort of queer thing. If we need to get really specific, id say "bisexual aromantic bigender femme", mostly into men and butches, but Queer will do just fine. I'm a self entitled part time pretty fag and ugly dyke in my free hours. Intersex it turns out.