#art : just color in the lines and you'll get it like they promise

[vendettavalor]

// Finished a doodle of Alfie's beloved Rathian, Rosewing!

// I'm kinda obsessed with how she turned out, ngl. She's a lot more vivid than your typical pinkie thanks to her more varied diet. Additionally, I switched out the brown coloration on her scale-tips and legs for a deeper red that matches Alfie's hair- same reason why her tail spikes and feathers are that deep maroon and tipped with a paler color. It's supposed to be a motif representing her connection to Alfie.

// As for her wings, the patterns are different because they were painted on by Alfie. Her wings were originally blank with these very pale spots that never really developed, and as her bond with Alfie grew stronger, Alfie painted on symbols from her culture that Rosewing liked. The outer patterns represent strength, growth, and connection to nature, while the inner patterns represent love, connection, and the power of kinship while also being a sort of eye-spot design for intimidation. (Also the arm parts have stripes the shimmer in the light as a nod towards what their eggs look like.)

// Overall really like how she came out <3

[vendettamuses]

// Force sensitive Heelers ❤️

// As requested by @nemekii

[vendettamuses]

// 10+ years and I still love you, Candice ❤️

What 10 years of progress does to a mf

[terresdebrume]

There is a dull knock of wood against the door when Edwin tries to make his way into his bedroom, and he sighs. The discovery is not strictly speaking unexpected. He and Charles have been sharing the Fridge since last November, after all. Edwin has had some time to get used to his friends' general habits.

"Charles," he calls out, keeping his eyes on the ground so he can sidestep Charles' cricket bat, some of his math equipment, his broken alarm clock, and what looks like the gutted content of his art box.

Charles is sitting at his desk, the one closest to the window. He is already in his pyjamas, his socked feet firmly perched on the seat of his chair. The long line of his back, vanishing into his long-sleeved shirt, curves forward so he can bend over his latest art piece, his legs framing him like a pair of red checkered wings. From the window outside, the pale light of late afternoon splashes against him, highlighting his curly hair, the shape of his jaw.

There is a purple stick of chalk in his hand, the tips of his fingers coated in it. There is a long line of turquoise along the curve of Charles' nose, as if he had scratched an itch with another piece of chalk. He is wearing an expression of profound focus that only ever seems to take him by surprise, and Edwin indulges in the sight for a moment, heart full to bursting.

After a while, Edwin knocks on the wall, calling Charles' name again. Charles takes the sort of deep breath Edwin gets after a long study session, then turns to him with a smile. Edwin, as usual, cannot resist answering with a quirk of the lips, even as he tries to scold:

"If Mr. Hampton sees this you'll be scolded again."

"I'll sort it out before dinner," Charles says without any sign of concern. That only leaves him about twenty minutes to get half his belongings off the floor of their room, but Edwin elects not to point that out.

Instead, he finds a path through Charles' explosive organization system to stand behind his chair. On an A3 sized sheet of paper, Charles has drawn dozens of flowers: pale blue lilac and darker hydrangeas, purple lavender and forget me nots, turquoise-looking mint, and even a few unnaturally blue daisies. In the middle, in blinding white, large letters, a single word: ਮਾਣ.

"Do you like it?" Charles asks.

Edwin looks back at the piece. He finds the color scheme soothing, if occasionally unrealistic, and familiar in a way he can't quite place. The motifs are uncharacteristically neat for Charles, who enjoys playing with the abstract, but pleasing nonetheless. And blue or not, daisies are Edwin's favourite flowers.

"I love it," he says sincerely.

Charles beams, and Edwin feels it like sunshine on his skin.

"Brills!" Charles exclaims, "I made it for you!"

Edwin turns around before he can help it, but no: the door to their room is firmly shut, and no one made their way in behind him. When he looks back to Charles, his grin has taken an amused, almost fond quality.

"For me?" Edwin asks, just to be sure. Charles laughs.

"Yes, you. It's your going away present."

He extends the paper to Edwin, who holds it gingerly with the tips of his fingers. He tries to take the whole piece in again at once, gaze flickering from one flower to the next, to the detailing of a leaf, to the bottom left corner, where Charles signed his name. He wishes he could say something—knows that he should, at least—but his throat is closed up, and his eyes strangely warm. He has to swallow several times before he can croak out:

"It's beautiful, Charles. Thank you."

"You're my best mate, you know," Charles replies, easy as breathing. "I just wanted to give you something special."

"It is," Edwin promises, clearing his throat to keep the tears threatening to spill contained to his throat. "Thank you." He sniffs as discretely as he can, and Charles generously pretends not to notice. "Is this Punjabi?"

Charles nods, a new layer of pride entering his expression. From what Edwin understands, Charles has received a lot of remarks on his penmanship from all his teacher except for Mr Madan. If his handwriting in Punjabi class is as neat as the painting, Edwin can understand why.

"What does it mean?"

"Pride," Charles says. "For everything you've accomplished this year. Also because you're a bloody brilliant friend, and I'm real proud you picked me."

"It's 'really proud'," Edwin points out, looking away from Charles as his cheeks and neck heat up.

It comes out snippier than Edwin intended, but Charles simply rolls his eyes.

"Well I'm really glad that you're my best friend," he says, giving Edwin's shoulder a gentle shove. "There's not a part of you I don't like. Consider this my encouragement to be as proud of yourself as I am of you, yeah?"

The warmth spreads over the rest of Edwin's face, and he diffuses by pointing out they won't leave the school until the end of the week, and Charles is being dramatic. Then, when that doesn't work, Edwin nags Charles into dealing with his things before the dinner bell. They spend the entire evening bickering around, and Edwin thinks he's the lucky one.

Much, much later, he realizes why the color scheme on the painting seemed familiar, and cries happy tears again.

This snippet is more of a laying down of concept than a proper fic and will eventually be edited (probably added to) and crospposted on AO3.

[daydream-the-demon]

my 10 year old friend told me I’m useless for not playing with her at the park, I was drawing and she said “ no one’s seeing it, you don’t post it, you don’t sell it so what’s the point” and she’s right I do post my “art” and not sees it cus it doesn’t look good, I have to except that I am talentless 🫠

No girlypop, you do have talent.

Many can't even draw like you. Many don't even dare to do perspectives. Many aren't good at lines or colors like you. You try hard and you put emotion and soul into your work which is better than some. (*AHEM-* AI "ART"-) Sure you have your weaknesses here and there, but many do. I see you're a beginner who has potential.

I am now a, I don't mean to brag, but I'm decent at art.

Look at my old pieces though, way back from 2022:

Uneven lines and no sense of space. But the colors are good, the concepts are good, the backgrounds aren't bad. You just have to be a little optimistic to find the good.

Now look at where I am now:

I still messed up. The first one? I didn't even care to draw the background, the hairline was wrong, the hands were weird, the hat has perspective problems. The second one has 3 dimensionality problems with the clothes, the hand is bent wrong, the face is disproportionate, I held the pencil too tightly.

Look at the progress. Mistakes happen, yes, but look. Did I ever back down? No. When I was insulted did I stop? No. Now look. I have more to go, much more, but the progress is there.

Also, you don't have to make art for anyone. That's why you have private sketchbooks, that's why you doodle on the homework you know you'll probably lose or never get back, and you do it for fun. You put in and let out feelings and vibes you have. It can wash away like your emotions at the time, but it never leaves your mind. You felt things and wanted to express them.

I remember I made a book cover for something I was writing. I have no idea where it is, or where it went. I think it ended up getting corrupted. Am I a bit sad? Of course. I'm not mad, though. I remember about it. It was a demon x angel romance, it was one of my sparks into having my obsession with demons and angels.

Now look at me, many of my OCs are angels and demons. Hell, I like Hazbin Hotel!

Art always has an influence. It's yours after all.

One last note. Give this to your "friend":

🖕

It's not their job, or anyone's, to put you down like that.

Keep going, I believe in you. Look at what I did, you can also do it. 💋💋💋

You don't need talent either. I have a friend who literally could not write anything without it looking like scribbles. Their art was the same. After practice for months though, their anatomy improved.

There is a reason people say "Practice makes perfect", because it really does. I learned much of my skills from Pinterest, and some from my art tutor. It's possible, I promise.

Make art for yourself, and most importantly have fun with it. It doesn't have to be good. It's just a hobby after all.

[kunaigirl]

Hello! I just went through your art tag and your art is really cool! I love the way you use bright colors but in a soft kinda way and your line art is GREAT! Love the robots you draw too! One question though. How do you find the motivation to keep drawing your oc's? I never see your oc art get more than 5-12 likes and 2 reblogs maximum from what I've seen. How do you find the motivation to stay so passionate about drawing them with such little interaction? Not trying to be rude, it's a skill I'm trying to get myself. I rely too much on post numbers and get very discouraged and unmotivated when a drawing flops. Any advice? Again, your art is awesome btw! Followed!

Hi anon! Thanks for the compliments! I'm glad you like my art, I put a lot of effort into stuff like the coloring and line-art stages, so it makes me happy that you like those aspects specifically! And YES!!! ROBOTS ARE SO COOL!!!

To answer your question, I just really REALLY love what I draw! Is my art perfect, of course not! There's always room for improvement, but that doesn't change how I still absolutely LOVE my OCs! I love drawing them and sharing them no matter how low the notes are. I'll try my best to put it into words.

While it's really easy to feel unnoticed, you gotta draw what makes YOU happy! Nothing you create can ever really "flop" because YOU made something! Fuck how social media brainwashed us into thinking low interaction numbers means no one cares. I'll tell you how I stay motivated, hear me out.

I think about it this way. Let's say on a good day, my OC art gets 20 likes. Imagine sitting in a room with 20 people, and they all like your original characters/art! Think about a classroom, for example. 20 people in a classroom is pretty full, and they love my work! They liked it enough to save it to look at again later! They bookmarked it into a specific tab so it's even easier to find again! Dude, that ROCKS!!!

Now let's say a drawing gets 7 likes tops. Imagine you're sitting at a kitchen table with 7 people. People have to bring over extra chairs, and they like your original stuff and let you know! And again, they liked it enough to save it for later again! Suddenly it feels more substantial, right? As soon as you remember that behind the screen there's an actual human person, the numbers stop being just numbers.

And well, that's how I think about it! Draw what makes you happy and tell the stories you want to tell! Don't associate low numbers with an empty space, because that space isn't empty! People DO enjoy your art, and the proof is right in the number you're discrediting. If you're drawing specifically for high numbers, you'll probably feel let down. If your drawing for yourself, any amount of interaction is a welcomed bonus! Give yourself some credit, and let yourself feel positive about it! It's ok, I promise.

[randoimago]

Thank you so much for keeping up with the writing! I know I struggle sometimes so I can imagine there are probably days where it's a bit hard to keep up?

All being well, could I get a friends to lovers with Brassius (Pokemon), where they're artist friends? Thank you 🙏💚💚

Picture Perfect

Fandom: Pokemon: Scarlet / Violet

Character(s): Brassius

Type of Request: 3,000 Followers Oneshots

Note(s): I have over 60 in the drafts rn so I know once the ask box is closed that I'll have a time 😅 But I do hope you enjoy this!!

Edit: Hi, Current Mod Kat. Yeah it was a time but a fun time!!

"That's the wrong shade of blue."

"It's the shiny version."

Brassius gives a small smile at your remark to him deliberately trying to mess with you. He's not usually one to be playful when it comes to art, but with your long friendship and how serious you look while drawing a pokemon. You look really cute in his eyes, and he couldn't help making a bit of a comment.

Brassius moves to work on his own drawing, making sure the colors are exact as he glances to his rotom where a reference photo of an Applin is. There is a curious legend behind the small pokemon and while it's usually talking about the physical pokemon, he hopes a picture can suffice. He has to duck behind his easel just in case you happened to look up and saw his blush.

He's been trying to keep this painting hidden from you. You'll see it when it's done, he promised you that. But he needs to make sure it's perfect. Brassius has finally decided he's had enough of just being friends with you and hopes that this is enough to convey his feelings when words don't come as easily. If only he could get the details perfect.

"I'm surprised your painting hasn't caught on fire." He's snapped out of his concentration as he looks over at you, seeing you already giving him an amused look. "You were glaring pretty heavily," you explain, and he lets out an "ah" as he didn't realize that.

"I need to make this perfect," he responds and hears the hum that you give him. "Sorry if I'm distracting you."

"It's fine, Brass." He gives you a look at the nickname, but there is a small smile on his face too. "What are you working so hard on?"

"You'll see when it's finished." He can't help a chuckle as you make another attempt to find out what he's working on as he dips his brush into some more paint to work more on his painting. He hears the grumble you give, and another chuckle leaves his lips.

There's some more small talk exchanged as you both work on your own art pieces. But the longer Brassius stares at his painting, the more he sees everything wrong with it. Doubt begins to cross his mind as if he should give this to you. You don't deserve anything but the best. Maybe he should go out and catch an actual Applin for you at this point.

"Aw, what a cute little guy." Brassius jumps as he hears your voice behind him. He turns quickly and tries to position his body in front of the painting, but you already saw it.

"Didn't I say-"

"I got impatient." Brassius narrows his eyes at you cutting him off as well as sneaking a glance at his painting that was supposed to be a secret. "But it does look really cute. Almost like the real thing. Why an Applin?" You ask him and he grumbles a bit as he steps aside so you can see the painting again. There isn't a reason to hide it considering you already saw.

"I wanted to give it as a gift. But I can't get it right," he tells you with a frown as he looks at the painting, only seeing mistakes and flaws in his eyes. A sigh leaves your lips and he sees the tired smile you give him.

"Brassius, we both know where this line of thinking leads. The painting is fantastic. I can see it's an Applin, there lighting effect you have that really makes the pokemon shine. It's obvious you put so much effort into this," you state as you continue pointing out all the things in the painting that make it perfect. The mistakes he saw before dimming a bit as he takes in your encouragement.

"The painting is for you, so I'm glad you enjoy it," Brassius says as he glances to you to see your expression. His previous confidence over this idea coming back slowly. "I know it's not the actual thing, but there's a legend with Applins in Galar..." He trails off as he waits to see if you understand what he's trying to say. Judging by your expression, you do.

"Brassius, are you-"

"I treasure our friendship. But I would be honored if you'd accept my feelings for you. I understand if you don't, but you're more important to me than any art piece I could dream of," he confesses as he stares into your eyes, making sure you know how serious he is.

There are a few moments of pause as you process what he just admitted to you. He continues to give you the determined look, not wanting to lose hope until he heard you speak.

"I... I have feelings for you too," you say, and he feels his heart soar as he smiles at you. He doesn't quite know what to say or do now because none of it would do how he feels justice. So he just leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.

[blindrapture]

"I, Luigi"

had a nightmare. had to wake up.

I dreamt that I wrote a short story that was actually really good (Luigi joins youtuber StephenPlays on a walk through the woods, I remember the line "He and his wife were joined by the local sheriff, as while this is a beautiful day for a walk they've had planned for months, this is still the south, and there are bear marines." like, just, bears, the animal. for some reason "bear marines" was the recognized term for them. this itself was the second section in the story, "written by Billy Everyblogger" my alter ego. the dream became about that walk) and had an idea for a novel (basically, "huh, when I write as Billy Everyblogger, it's not actually that bad, what if I wrote a whole novel?"). that's all well and good. but then it turned into a Demo for the new Animal Crossing game...

there was a sort of segue. I-- that is, Luigi-- started noticing pokemon on our walk. I started remembering opinions I've had about pokemon. something about "they're all really cute, there haven't been creepy ones since the early gens." I don't actually think this is an opinion of mine. but by the end of the walk, there were lots of pokemon and they just suddenly had always been there, as had animal crossing villagers joining us on the walk. there was mention of Mr. Resetti not being the same since his wife got that job....

now there was a new framing device, this was no longer an Everyblogger story but me, privately me, revisiting the Demo for the new Animal Crossing game, the Demo which came out a few years ago but no news for the final game had come at all. it was a demo that, frankly, promised an animal crossing game far more engaging than any of them actually were. I remember pressing the switch Home button at one point and seeing the Demo icon on my home menu, just to verify what I was playing really was still the same old demo, because I could swear there were new additions....

anyway, so, Mrs. Resetti wasn't around anymore because she was running a university in town, getting it set up for "next year" (the planned release date for the game). and I, Luigi, went over to that university. just had to check, was the in-canon Luigi explanation. the dream must go on, was the out-of-canon Me explanation. and this was a first-person kind of deal, walking through a forested town, with buildings just plopped there in the town-- like, y'know, animal crossing, just more forested!

on the walk into the university, I was also watching a developer talk, like, a public Nintendo video from the developer telling us about the final game. he had a northern british accent, like this was not being developed by nintendo themselves. he was bald. he promised that the game was coming, and I believed him, he was really into the vision for the game. "there's comedy in it as you can see but it's not a comedy. you'll still get the gossipy war drama [that you expect from every animal crossing game]." he was deadly serious about the word "war."

the format of the game was, yes, first-person. it involved spending 100 days in this village as new things happened to it, revolving around the university. it was a slow-burn drama. there were ominous Secrets, and every character in the village had an evolving schedule that incorporated side quests and interaction with the main narrative. this demo gave us Day 1. I got the impression the main plot had to do with strange experiments in the university, ominous and dreadful secret experiments, created forms of life. that was not really present in the demo, the demo just had little hints as to the main plot. I honestly do not know if the rest of the dream was the contents of that demo, but something tells me it was.

in the university, I found a book on a table. it had entries written by many villagers. I don't think I remember most of the entries, they were amusing enough. but I mostly remember the last entry. it was a comic. no color, very basic art. three panels. the dialogue was rooted around some really silly joke, the details escape me but it was something like...

husband [home from long day, his name is Dished]: hello, [wife]. I'm glad to see you.

wife [her name is Happy]: husband! I'm very Me to see you!

wife 2 [to husband]: I am very You to see you.

wife 2 was not visible in the scenario before the final panel. then she was just kinda there. a separate character entirely, does not look like wife 1, I'm not certain she was a wife, may have been a daughter, may have been someone entirely unrelated, but it felt.... well, it felt like a horror thing, a sudden strange character claiming to have always been there. I also knew that her presence was not strange to Wife, but distressing to Husband.

when I finished reading, I took another look at panel 1, and noticed that husband was also somewhat clown-ish in appearance, and I knew this detail was crucial to understanding the meaning of the comic. character 3 was really, secretly, saying that in reality she was a clown.

I looked up from the book. my wife was at the entrance of the room. this was a kitchen. she was surprised, though tired, to see me. I have been gone a long time. was I going to stay this time? was I going to do what was necessary? she really wanted me to. she went back upstairs. I started to follow her back upstairs, then I decided, strongly, that I would rather not. I started taking the trash out of the kitchen bin, holding the trash bag. someone else approached, this was her mother. she was shocked. "this is what you're doing? she wants you upstairs." "I know. I just. this university work is overwhelming. there's so much to do." "the university needs you, but you knew this was coming. you chose to do this, and you did this because it was hard. do not overlook your wife." I accepted her advice. I went upstairs, to our bedroom. my wife was in bed, waiting for me.

I got into bed with her. I decided to explain the truth. she deserved an explanation. I (as witness of the dream, not as Luigi Morphing Into Character Speaking To Wife) did not see it coming, despite how obvious it is now.

"I've been terrified. I was sure there was a clown waiting for me under our bed."

"that's strange... there hasn't been a clown under the bed..... not since last night..."

that scared me so much that I woke up within seconds. in the last few seconds of the dream, I remember filling with dread, then putting my foot on the floor outside the bed, and trying to figure out if the dark shapes on the floor were my imagination or.... the clown.

anyway yeah. then I woke up. buzzing with that dream in my head. so much so that I had to write it down.

I'm not even scared of clowns. but this was some deep so-much-context-that-my-mind-couldn't-focus-on-it concept that just happened to get the referent "clown." the only clownish thing in the design was a stencil around the lips. no color.

anyway.

I've talked it out. I'd like to go back to sleep.

[threshasketch]

Wow, so apparently today is the 8th anniversary of me starting this art blog. I started Threshasketch in the September of 2015, and my main blog the year before in June.

In that time, I've gone through drawing OCs, fanart for numerous fandoms, traditional style line work and pencil sketches, digital line work and coloring, painting photo-real style, and so, so many chibi art pieces. Art has been my rock through some really hard times in my life. Posting cute chibis to brighten somebody else's day helped brighten mine.

Since 2015, my country has gone through three different presidencies, the world has gone through (and is still quietly going through) a global pandemic, and I've gone through years of struggling. Most of that struggling has been in the past 5 years, but boy does 5 years sound like a lot of time to be struggling for basic living things like heat and food.

Things were really bad just a few years ago. At one point I only had electricity four hours per day, because I couldn't afford gas for the generator. I uploaded digital art because "scanning" (taking pics of on my phone) traditional line art was hard when the place I was living was so dark. Patreon and art commissions were the only reason I had money for food on many occasions.

I've had to move three different times in the past four years. I got rid of or lost a lot of my belongings to live in a small space. Had to deal with rats in my living space twice in as many years. Had to take my 23-year-old cat to the vet to pass peacefully AND help my parents take their little dog with heart failure to the vet to pass peacefully in the same year.

Did I mention I had major abdominal surgery this summer with months of recovery time? Yeah. That actually went really smoothly. I didn't realize how bad my health was getting for the past few years because it was a gradual problem, but I was exhausted all the time, unable to do much physical activity, and super anemic. Just passed the two month mark since surgery, and am feeling so much better it's shocking remembering how bad off I was before. Cripes, I should have done this years ago.

So why, if art has been a coping method for me, has this blog had barely any updates for years? Well, I overextended myself on art commissions, which made my art escapism into a pressure thing. It's nobody's fault but my own, but several of those commissions did not get finished, and that made art into a guilty thing, so I sort of...shut myself down on Tumblr, because drawing for fun seemed wrong when somebody was waiting on me to finish their art piece. So I stopped drawing at all for a long while. That helped nobody—it just made it so that I wasn't warmed up enough to draw the commissions, either.

I'm just now getting to where I'm financially able to reach out to the people who paid me for commissions and refund them. I've refunded several already. If you are one of my art commission customers, you'll be hearing from me, I promise. I haven't forgotten you, I have every commission I ever took in a list saved on my computer.

Speaking of financially able, I'm no longer supporting myself with art and Patreon alone. For most of The Pandemic Years I've been pouring all of my creative energy into becoming a full-time indie erotica author. I write my own stories, I paint my own covers, I do everything myself. It's the most fun job I've ever had, honestly, and it's paying my bills. ♥

I've managed to build it up into a monthly income somehow, and this winter is looking a lot less terrible than last winter. In general, my living situation is now stable, the roof doesn't leak, the lights all work, hell I even have a functioning shower and the ability to have running hot water.

Anyway, yeah. It's been a rough go of it, and this art blog has been around through it all. I got a new art tablet for my birthday, and drawing feels like being carefree again. Here's to many more years of art. ♥

[vendettavalor]

// also forgot to post this whoops-

// my descent in to H.annibal Hell has culminated into me creating a whole convoluted ass AU where Mischa never actually died so that I could pick her up as a muse-

[vendettamuses]

// Wow, congrats on Barbie for coming out! Piper and Holly are here to support her!

// Tester drawing on my new drawing tablet came out p good i think

[heavy-eyez]

Chapter 18: Hotel Horrors (part 1)

(previously "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly")

Faith

I wake up in a soft bed, with warm sunlight hitting my face. I yawn and stretch out as best as I can. I take a look around, only to find that I'm in a white room, with white sheets on a white bed. I jolt up thinking they've finally thrown me into a loony bin when I spot the side table.

The mahogany wood stands out vividly. There's also colorful art hanging on one of the walls. One thing I know from mental hospitals, they don't allow anything but a bed and a desk bolted to the floor. Everything else is a personal safety hazard.

Just as I start to relax a little bit and lean back, the door to the room opens and Zak walks in. I look at him and he looks at me.

"Good morning." He says softly

I give him a little wave.

"How did you sleep? I was just coming in to wake you up." he says walking over to me.

He sits on the edge of the bed, his black outfit standing out against the white everything in the room. I give him a thumbs up, signaling that I slept well.

"That's good. You fell asleep on the way to California. We're staying one more night here before getting ready to head to the airport while Bacon takes the RV back across state lines." Zak says fiddling with the fabric of his pants

"Where?" I ask softly, testing my vocal cords.

"That's a surprise for you. I promise you'll love it. For now, lets get you out of bed and into the bathroom to freshen up. Does that sound good?" He asks

I nod my head and wait for him to help me out of the bed. He then helps me pick out an outfit that will fit over the cast on my leg, I chose an old pair of sweatpants I got in the foster home, a new faded black shirt that Zak bought me at the mall, and a fun pair of socks, also from the mall. Then he carries me to the bathroom and hands me a towel.

"So this is how you turn the shower on, you just twist and pull up on this little knob here. The water temperature is labeled, adjust how you like. I put your back pack on the counter before I came to wake you up and a plastic bag for your cast. Ummm…. If you need anything, text me and I'll send in Ashley. I'm sure she wouldn't have a problem helping you out." Zak says

I nod at him and he nods back before leaving me alone in the bathroom. I pee before taking a shower, then tie the large plastic bag around my leg. I turn on the water, just like Zak showed me, take off my dirty clothes off, and get in. Ten minutes later, I'm turning the water off and wrapping myself up in a towel. It's fluffy and large. I'm comforted by the feeling on my skin. As I take the plastic bag off my leg, I think about how I ended up in the hotel, let alone in the bed. I suspect that Zak must have carried me in. That must have been tough for him, I'm not sure how heavy I am to him. I pull the socks over my foot, while one is simply folded over the toes peeking through my cast.

The socks help give me some more grip on the tile floor, even though there is a towel on the ground for me to stand on. I'd hate to slip. I pull on a loose bra that I bought in the foster home. I spot a big fluffy robe on the counter. I pull myself up and let the towel drop to the floor so I can put the robe on. When I look up at the mirror, I'm startled to see the mangled skin that I've seen so many times.

The claw marks from the wolf dragging down my shoulder, the thick raised knife wounds, some of which still have stitches holding them together, the scrapes and bruises just now turning yellow. I turn my body around to look at the nastiest one of all. The thick, swollen, red wound being held together by staples, dried blood falling off of it, moves with my arm. I squeeze my eyes shut and fumble around for the robe. I slip it on over my shoulders, careful not to look at myself in the mirror.

I text Zak to let him know that I'm out of the shower and I need help applying some ointment to my back before I get dressed. A few moments pass and Zak comes into the bathroom.

"Just point and I'll put it on for ya." he says

I pull the robe off my shoulder and point to the wound on my back. Zak tenses, I can feel it. I point again to my back and this time I hand him the tube of ointment. Zak seems to snap out of his thoughts and takes the tube of ointment. Gently, he applies it to my shoulder.

"Does this hurt?" He asks with every touch

I shake my head as he keeps applying.

"I swear, if we ever find these guys, I'll kill them for what they did to you." Zak says

I shake my head. I hate the thought of someone being killed. Especially in my name? It'll be like their blood is on my hands. I sit patiently as Zak finishes up with the ointment. After he leaves, I put my clothes on, brush my teeth, and freshen up everything else. I text Zak again after wrapping a towel around my hair. He comes back in and carries me back to the main sitting area. All the guys are in there, just talking about random stuff. I'm set down on the couch right next to Dakota, who scoots over to give me some space. I just sit there trying to keep up with the conversation, but find that I don't understand what they're talking about. I end up scrolling through messages on my phone as they talk travel plans, camera set ups, editing, etc.

Dakota texts me suddenly. I tap on his message.

'do u know what instagram is?'

I type out my most used reply.

'Yes. I got it a few days ago'

A few seconds later, Dakota's next message pops up onto my screen with a link.

'Follow me?'

I tap the link and follow his instagram account. I take a look at his posts. He has a lot of fishing pictures, forest pictures, and even a couple of pictures of him watching Zak on TV. I tap on a funny picture of Dakota dressed up as a grandma and show him the picture.

"Oh dear Jesus. Why." He says turning bright red.

I smile and scroll through, pointing at pictures that stand out to me. He explains that he has a YouTube channel where he posts funny skits that he films and edits himself. It's very interesting t hear him talk about what he's interested. I get hungry and I remember that there is a vending machine at the end of the hall by the elevator. I send a quick text to Zak asking if I can grab a snack from the vending machine on my crutches.

He looks at his phone, reads the message, looks up and me and nods. I have Dakota help me off the couch and into my crutches before making my way into my room to grab my wallet. Dakota walks with me out of the hotel room and down the hall towards the vending machine. I get excited as this is the first time I've ever used one. There's a lot of choices but I want something sweet. Fruit snacks or candy.

I pick the fruit snacks and put in my money. Just as the machine starts to roll my snack out, I see something move out of the corner of my eye. Dakota bends over the grab the pack of gummy snacks for me and time slows as I look up. A feeling of dread washes over me upon seeing the figure.

We stare at each other and I watch in slow motion as he smiles evilly at me. His words come back to me.

"I'm not finished with you just yet."

The blood drains from my face as time suddenly speeds up and I stumble backwards into the machine and almost over Dakota. Luckily he catches me, but I'm trembling and starting to hyperventilate. I need to get away from here.

"Hey kid what's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost!" Dakota says pulling me back into reality

I shake my head. This is much worse than a ghost. I need to keep my cool before I have a meltdown in the middle of a hallway.

"She's not looking too good. Maybe she needs some water. My hotel room is just a few doors down, we can bring her in to sit for a moment." He says to Dakota

'NO' I want to scream at him 'DON'T FOLLOW HIM!'

"That's okay, I think I'm gonna take her back to her dad. Thanks though." Dakota says sensing the panic in my breath.

"It's really no problem, I'm right there, I'll run and grab her a water or you could bring her in." He says pushing the idea

"I said no. Thank you for the concern but I trust her father to help her." Dakota snaps as he lifts me into his arms

I cling to him as he walks down the hall to our room. By the time I'm set down in the living area with all the guys, I'm dizzy and hyperventilating harder than ever.

"Faith? Take a deep breath. You're okay now." Dakota says

Zak looks at me with concern in his eyes. I just shake my head. Nothing is okay. It's horrible. I watch as Dakota explains to Zak what happened in the hallway. Without thinking I get up and pull myself, unassisted, to the room I woke up in. The door slams shut behind me and I curl into a ball on the floor by the bed. I don't have the strength to find my anxiety medications. The bag seems so far, I'm out of breath, and tired.

My head spins and spins, eventually throwing me into a nightmare with my kidnapper swinging a knife at me. Nothing could prepare me for this full scale panic attack. I'm terrified and shaking, laying on the floor, complacent, just like when I was there. I hear a door open somewhere and my name being called faintly. I look around but find no one except him. The footsteps get closer and closer. I shut my eyes and press my hands over my ears to block out the sounds. It doesn't help, only muffles.

"Faith!"

I let out a blood curdling scream and the world around me goes black.

[minervaamadon]

Vulnerability and Growth

Five months ago, I posted a comic about how I wanted to change. How I wanted to be braver, and interact with more people.

I failed. And I've put together tonight the reason why. (personal story and such under the cut)

Almost every time I tried to reach out to someone on here, I failed, retreated into my shell. People that seemed cool, seemed nice, seemed inviting- I told myself that what I was going to say wasn't going to contribute.

As Therian HRT blew up, I was awestruck by the art shown on display. So many different stories that tread different grounds, different artstyles that evoked their arts.

And I had a pencil, paper, and a phone camera. I felt like I had little to say, and that it wouldn't be worth the effort of "saying" so poorly. Of course, everyone's experience is unique, and meaningful, but would anyone hear? Was I vulnerable enough to say it? Was I vulnerable enough to say it badly? Would anyone hear it? Would anyone want to hear it?

And I've been ruminating for months. I know that to become good, you have to be bad. Perfection is the enemy of good.

But I've also realized, tonight, why exactly I struggle with art- why I struggle with many things- I so rarely trust myself.

I have the least faith in myself of anyone I know; I phrase almost everything as "I'll see what I can do", "I'll give it my best shot" when asked to do something, to the point where one of my first bosses called me out on it, and said to "just say you'll do it". But I couldn't comfortably do that- I didn't trust myself to follow through. I didn't think I could reliably succeed. There would always be a risk of factors out of my control, and so I could have failed the task, and failed the person I promised success to. What if the machine broke because someone left it set up wrong when they last used it? What if it turns out I'm not strong enough to keep holding it up? What if I'm not good enough?

Whether they were understanding, whether there was a reasonable reason or not, it didn't matter. I was so afraid of failure, of not having perfect control of a situation, that I would not commit to almost any task or fact that I could not personally without fail ensure the certainty of.

And this extended to information- if I knew it could change, I would answer with less than 100% confidence. If I were asked what color the sky was when sitting inside without windows, I'd say "Probably blue". Because maybe it's not. Maybe the weather outside is so stormy and cloudy that the lightest color is gray in the sky. Maybe the sun was setting at that point- I was never sure when the sunset was- and so it was more purple. I give the best answer I can with the info I have, but I do not do cash-back guarantees.

As I ramble here, I think "no one's really gonna want to hear this". As I debated where to put the "read more" earlier, I thought "well, I should put it early, so that I waste less people's time"; plan for the least reception. Which, if you're still reading, thank you- I'm getting to the point now.

The lack of trust in myself means that I rely on trust in everything else- verifying info with cross-checking, and testing when reasonable. And if I can't trust it, prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

Sometime within the last couple days I saw a post saying something along the lines of "if you're being mean to yourself to try and prevent people being mean to you, you still have someone being mean to you all the time."

And I saw myself in it. Saw every interaction I stopped before it started by intimidating myself away from the other person, and from public perception. Remembered that you have to be vulnerable to grow, that interactions happen from having a connection with someone or something. By preparing for the worst- a bad judgment by the outside world I trusted more than myself- I prevented the best- growing. A lobster has to molt and leave the protection of its carapace or suffocate.

Will this post, this grand sweeping gesture, ensure that I succeed? No. I've made plenty of first steps and stops.

But I can't start again without another first step.

And if this post doesn't help me, then maybe my experience will matter to someone else. That they might see themselves in me and decide to start moving.

[na-ta-sh-aa]

Aww how beautiful it is to read about Beer boy and Sugar again, I missed them so much🥹 this piece was really perfect, I loved how you highlighted how special and deep the love between Beer Boy and Sugar is, they are so precious!🥹🫶🏼

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

“Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.”

This part was so funny, how both Jake and Bradley didn't seem to like the idea of ​​meeting up for a beer and how Jake immediately found a way to make conversation with Bradley. Not to mention Bradley's reaction, pure art!😂

“Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

I bet Bradley will be thinking about Sugar in lingerie until he sees her again!

“You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once.”

Ooh I missed Jessica and Sugar so much! I love that they went shopping together, I will never stop loving their friendship!

“Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.”

I bet Bradley will lose his mind over whatever Sugar buys, I love how they both are completely in love with each other!🥹

“Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

Jessica is so sweet🥹

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.”

Bradley can't be subtle when it comes to Sugar. I love how Jake immediately understood what it was all about😂

“Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

Aww I love how Jessica is literally Sugar's Cheerleader, she was so sweet and supportive!

“It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word.”

Bradley's reactions are literally one better than the other, I love them! But most of all I love how much he loves Sugar and how he always shows it🥹

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

“Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.”

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

Bradley and Jake together are so funny😂

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

“His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

I loved reading this, it was so fun and sexy! I missed Beer Boy and Sugar and Jake and Jessica so much, it was so nice to read about them again! Like I said, Jessica and Sugar's friendship is something I've loved since they first met and helped each other out and I love being able to read and find out more about them. I also liked how Bradley always shows his love for Sugar in every possible way and I also liked how Sugar had the courage to try experimenting with new lingerie for Bradley. Special mention to Jake and Bradley, they never stop making me laugh the way they tease and make fun of each other. As usual the piece was spectacularly written, really beautiful to read, I loved it sooo much!✨💗💗💗

Sugar and Lace | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley had a hot wife. He went wild for you in your work clothes and his worn out shirts. You didn't need any bells and whistles to look sexy, and you never would. But now that he knew what you looked like in a little lace, he needed to have that version of you, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, drinking

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist

Bradley looked at Jake over his beer, and Jake looked right back at him. The Hard Deck was virtually empty this early on a Saturday in the middle of the blazing summer heatwave, leaving the two of them very much alone together with their drinks.

"So..." Bradley said, tracing a line through the condensation on his half empty bottle. It wasn't that he disliked Jake. Not really. But he didn't know how many times he could be coerced into hanging out with him for the sake of you having a 'girls day'. It wasn't like he could complain about work to the person who annoyed the shit out of him at work yesterday.

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.

"That's obviously what they are out shopping for," Jake drawled, handing the empties to Penny as she dropped off fresh beers. Bradley waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute and then glared at Jake as he added, "Jessica specifically asked your wife to go with her. She told me she's picking out some things for the honeymoon, and you and I both know what that means. They are trying on lingerie." His smirk was back. "Together."

Bradley swallowed hard, digging his fist into his thigh. His teeth were clenched as he said, "Stop picturing my wife in lingerie."

All he got was a jovial laugh in response. "Tell me right now to my face that you're not picturing both of them wearing something tight, cropped and lacy, and I'll stop."

Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

--------------------------------

You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once. 

Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.

"Try something on," Jessica suggested gently, and you took a step closer to your pile. "Then you'll get a better idea of what you like." 

There was red, green, black, white and pink fabric. There were nightgowns, thongs, bralettes and stockings. When you reached your hand out, you hesitated, confidence wavering. This seemed a lot more challenging than solving a linear algebra matrix.

Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

The two of you already agreed to help each other make selections, and the last thing you wanted was to keep opening the door so everyone else could see you wearing this stuff. "No. It's not that. I just... don't really own anything like this. I mean, I have a few things, but some of this is elaborate." You glanced at her over your shoulder and winced. "And this was supposed to be a shopping trip for you! For your honeymoon! Not for me."

She shushed you and then reached into your pile and pulled out a fairly innocuous looking nightie in a soft champagne color. "Start with this. Then you'll see how hot you look, and it'll be a gateway drug to you starting your own collection that will rival mine."

"I've seen your closet," you muttered, taking the hanger from her and holding the garment up in front of your body. It was pretty. The color even complimented your hair. It was a far cry from what you usually wore to bed, but you'd give it a shot.

When you started to undress, Jessica turned around and played with her phone, which you did appreciate. All of your bumps and lumps would be on display soon enough anyway, but at least you'd have a minute to straighten yourself out. The fabric was cool and slick against your skin, and you shivered as it settled high on your thighs. When you looked in the mirror and turned, you were pleasantly surprised with the result.

"It's not bad," you said, and she looked up and gasped, green eyes wide.

"It's perfect!"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, smoothing your hands along your sides.

"Well, I would. And I'm sure Bradley would, too. Do you want me to take a picture on your phone?" she asked, and you nodded while she posed you with one hand on your hip. "Like I said, perfect," she muttered as she took the photo and then set your phone down again. "Try on something else."

"Okay," you whispered, reaching blindly into your pile and pulling out a black lace corset top.

Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "I love that one. I picked one up to try it on, too."

"I don't know about this," you said, holding it up in front of the nightie. "Not sure how Beer Boy is going to like it."

"You won't know until you try it on."

With those words of wisdom, you changed from the nightie to the corset, and your immediate thought was how cute this would look under your sweaters and tweed when you were at work. And it would feel amazing. It was snug and sexy, and somehow you felt like you could kick even more ass at work if you were wearing this thing.

"What the hell?" you whispered, and Jessica turned to look at you, clapping her hands once again. "I feel like I have super powers."

"Because you do! Look at you! Please let me take another picture of you to send to Bradley."

This time you posed yourself and turned so your tattoos were visible through the lace cutout on the side. Then you stood there and admired yourself before saying, "I'm definitely buying this. Catch me wearing it to work under my cardigans in the fall."

Jessica started digging into her own pile now as you changed from the corset into a bodysuit, but when she met your eyes in the mirror, she looked like she was going to freak out.

"What?" you asked. "The bodysuit looks that bad?"

She shook her head, and pressed her lips together before almost shouting, "When were you going to tell me you have a math tattoo?"

"Oh," you replied, not sure you'd ever heard her voice reach that octave before. "Euler's Identity? I've had it since I was nineteen."

"I love how you embrace your inner nerd," she said as if she was in awe of you, and you started laughing which made her laugh. "Now send those pictures to your husband and let that man worship you."

--------------------------------

Bradley had just buried his face in his hands while Jake laughed when his phone went off. You hadn't even bothered to inform him that your little 'girls day outing' was a quest to make sure Jake enjoyed his honeymoon with Jessica. Honestly, Bradley kind of hoped the other man was correct in his assessment that you'd be shopping for something for yourself, too. Not that you needed it. Holy shit, you still looked like the girl he fell in love with over a decade ago whenever you wore his old Grateful Dead shirt or his robe around the house.

But now he wanted something special, too. Why should Jake get to have all the fun when it came to having his partner all wrapped up in a pretty package that was specifically meant to be removed?

"Sugar," he grunted when he saw that you'd texted him. Jake was rambling about something across the table, but Bradley couldn't hear him. He could no longer hear anything. He couldn't process thoughts or form words. All he could do was stare at the two photos you'd sent to him. "Oh, fuck."

In the first one, you were wearing a shimmery light gold colored thing that looked soft. Like maybe almost as soft as your skin. His heart hammered up into his ears as he examined every inch of it on your curves. Your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, and he could practically feel them between his lips. When he swiped to look at the second one, he abruptly stood from his stool with his phone gripped tight in his hand, eyes bugging out.

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.

Instead of verbally responding, Bradley made sure his phone was tipped away from Jake as he zoomed in for a closer look. Holy hell. Your tits were being pushed up in the sexiest black lace he had ever seen. It was sinful, and now he was imagining you wearing it under one of your tweed blazers while giving a lecture. He swallowed hard, realizing he could see the tiniest bit of your tattoos through the little cutout on the side, and he actually whimpered.

"Yeah... she definitely sent you photos," Jake murmured as his own phone chimed. "Oh, Jess just sent me five."

"How did you get five?" Bradley complained, swiping back and forth, desperately looking for more. "I only got two!" 

It was then that he noticed you texted him after you sent the pictures.

What do you think, Beer Boy?

Bradley laughed a bit maniacally. What did he think about the lingerie? Ha! He could barely think at all! He paced back and forth a bit, sweating as he wrote back.

You look fucking hot as hell, Sugar. If you don't bring that black top home, I think you'll break my heart.

Bradley cringed, because now Jake was the one who was whimpering. "They're sharing a fitting room," he whispered, and Bradley's eyes went wide with the realization that Jessica must have taken the photos for you. Then his eyes narrowed as he reached for Jake's phone.

"You better not be able to see Sugar in any of the pictures!"

-------------------------------

You and Jessica were wearing matching fluffy robes and sorting through everything you'd already tried on.

"You have to get that thing," you told her, pointing to the garters and stockings. "It fits you like a glove."

She nodded and added it to her 'yes' pile. "And you have to get the thong and bustier," she replied.

"I'm already buying four things," you reminded her. The bustier was nice, and your breasts looked good in it, but you didn't love the color very much. Besides, there was one last thing you hadn't tried on for fear of looking or feeling ridiculous, but there was a part of your brain that just knew your husband would love it.

"Missed one!" Jessica said, pulling on the bright pink fabric like she could read your mind. Always the best cheerleader, she held it up in front of your body and nodded. "It's bold, but I think you can pull it off."

You took it from her, but looked at yourself skeptically in the mirror. "I don't know... it's going to look bad. Like I'm trying too hard. I don't know why I even picked it up."

But you did know. Bradley was attracted to you in that dumb tie dye shirt like you were some sort of exotic bird whenever you put it on. All of the bright colors swirled into something that just lured him right to you. Part of it was nostalgia, sure, but you felt like there was something more as well.

"Actually, I do know why I picked it up," you told Jessica, holding the chemise closer to yourself. "Bradley really likes it when I wear his old shirt that I kind of held hostage for ten years. It's vibrant and bright, and I think this is the sort of thing he might enjoy?" You pursed your lips and sighed. "But, maybe I'm wrong, because he also just seems to like me how I am. No frills, you know? He's always been that way."

Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"You're right."

Once you were out of the robe, you pulled the stretchy lace over your body, and gaped at the deep neckline as Jessica tied the satin ribbons around the back of your neck. You hadn't noticed before, but there were some yellow and orange threads woven in, making delicate swirls in the fabric. Almost like a different kind of tie dye. It actually looked stunning on you, and as you turned from side to side, you already knew you had to have it.

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

-------------------------------

Bradley was lightheaded. He sweat through his shirt, and he had his forehead cradled in his hand as he opened three photos of you wearing something so bright and pink and sexy, he wanted to lick it off of you. Everything was covered up, but barely. In the one shot, he could almost see your ass. In another, he could definitely see your pert nipples. In the other one, he could make out part of your titty tattoos.

It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word. 

Bradley had been crazy about you for so long, and most of the appeal came from how smart you are and the fact that you weren't fussy. You let him dote on you in your work outfits. You wore his clothing around the house. You didn't need all the bells and whistles to be sexy, and you never would.

But now that he knew exactly what you looked like in black satin and colorful lace, he needed to have that version of you, too. He needed it.

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

"Hey, boys!"

Bradley turned in time to toss Jake's phone aside as Jessica headed through the nearly empty bar with you following behind her. There were two enormous shopping bags in your hands, and you had a smile on your face as you asked, "Ready to go home, Beer Boy?"

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

Bradley started guiding you to the door. "Yeah. We're going home. Right now." He ran his nose along your cheek and gave you one more sweet kiss before shouting over his shoulder, "Thanks for the beers, Bagman. Oh, and Jessica, I need you to crop your photos better next time you take my wife shopping."

---------------------------

I love Beer Boy for making Sugar feel so good about herself every day. She's a badass, and he knows it. I wrote this as a little wedding treat for @je-suis-prest-rachel Congratulations, Rachel! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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[the2019nailstory]

Trendy Nail Extension Designs for 2024

The nail art industry is always evolving, and 2024 promises to be a year filled with fresh and exciting nail extension designs. Whether you prefer a subtle and elegant look or something bold and eye-catching, there's a trend to suit every taste. Let's dive into some of the hottest nail extension styles you'll be seeing everywhere this year.

Trendy Nail Extension Designs

1. Minimalist Chic

Minimalism is making a major comeback, and the nail world is no exception. Clean and simple designs with negative space, thin lines, and geometric shapes will be all the rage. Think classic French tips with a modern twist or sleek nudes accented by a single metallic line. This trend is perfect for those who want an understated yet fashionable look.

2. 3D Embellishments

If you love all things extra, 2024 is your year to shine! Embellished nails featuring 3D charms, gemstones, and intricate designs will be a major trend. From tiny pearls cascading down the colorful nail art designs to butterfly charms taking flight, these designs are sure to turn heads. Just be prepared to handle all the compliments coming your way.

3. Chrome Nails

Reflecting the futuristic vibe of 2024, chrome nails are set to make a big splash. These ultra-shiny, metallic nails come in a range of captivating colors, from classic silver and gold to daring blues and purples. The mirror-like finish creates a stunning, eye-catching effect that's perfect for special occasions or simply making a statement.

4. Ombre and Gradient

Ombre and gradient nails have been popular for a while, but they're getting a fresh update in 2024. Expect to see more unique color combinations, such as pastel gradients fading into neon brights or sophisticated ombre designs blending neutrals with bold jewel tones. These seamless color transitions add depth and dimension to any nail look.

5. Abstract Art

For those who love to express their creativity, abstract nail art will be a major trend in 2024. From swirling patterns and splattered paint designs to geometric shapes and free-hand illustrations, these artistic nails offer endless possibilities for self-expression. Don't be afraid to get bold and experimental with your nail art this year!

No matter which trend you decide to rock, 2024 is all about embracing individuality and having fun with your nails. Whether you prefer a subtle and understated look or a daring and attention-grabbing design, there's a trendy nail extension design out there for you. So go ahead, experiment, and let your nails be the ultimate fashion accessory this year!

[apkainteriorsworld]

These 5 Interior Design Trends Will Reign Supreme in 2023

The future has arrived in interior design with the tech-integrated trend. Smart homes are getting smarter, and in 2023, seamlessly integrating technology into interiors is a must. From voice-controlled lighting and appliances to interactive projection art, technology isn't just functional—it's a design feature. Expect hidden charging stations, innovative home office setups, and augmented reality elements in design schemes.

As the world becomes more interconnected, so do our interior design choices the cultural globalism trend embraces diverse influences from around the world. In 2023, you'll find spaces filled with eclectic patterns, textiles, and decor pieces from various cultures. The key is to mix and match these elements harmoniously, creating spaces that tell a global story and celebrate cultural richness.

Modern | Contemporary Velvet Upholstered Bed

The bed frame features a minimalist design, characterized by its sharp angles and crisp edges. The use of high-quality materials, such as solid wood or metal, ensures durability while maintaining a refined appearance. The frame's low profile contributes to the contemporary aesthetic, creating a sense of openness and space in the room.

The true showstopper, however, is the luxurious velvet upholstery that envelops the headboard and sometimes even the entire frame. The velvet fabric, known for its softness and rich texture, adds a tactile and visual element of indulgence to the design. Depending on the chosen color, the velvet can range from deep jewel tones to muted neutrals, allowing you to tailor the bed to your desired ambiance.

Paddington 3 Seater Sofa In Dusty Blue Color

The Paddington 3 Seater Sofa in Dusty Blue Color is the epitome of relaxed elegance. Its design captures the essence of modern comfort while adding a touch of classic sophistication. The sofa's silhouette is defined by its clean lines and gently curved edges, creating a harmonious balance between contemporary aesthetics and timeless appeal.

Upholstered in a soft and soothing dusty blue fabric, this sofa exudes a sense of calm and tranquility. The color evokes a feeling of serenity, making it a perfect addition to any living room or lounge space. The fabric is not only pleasing to the eye but also velvety to the touch, ensuring a luxurious seating experience.

Orlando Dual Door Engineered Wood Wardrobe (Dark Brown)

The Orlando Dual Door Engineered Wood Wardrobe in Dark Brown presents a blend of contemporary design and practicality. Crafted with precision, this wardrobe seamlessly marries form and function to meet your storage needs while adding an elegant touch to your room.

Constructed from engineered wood, the wardrobe boasts durability and resilience, ensuring its longevity. The dark brown finish lends a sense of warmth and sophistication to the piece, making it a versatile addition that complements a range of interior styles.

The wardrobe features two elegantly designed doors that open to reveal a well-organized interior. Each door is designed with clean lines and subtle detailing, contributing to the modern aesthetic. The sleek metal handles or knobs, typically in a complementary finish, provide a convenient and stylish way to access your belongings

Dave Metal Blue 4-Seater Dining Set

The Dave Metal Blue 4 Seater Dining Set redefines dining spaces with its modern aesthetics and versatile functionality. This set is designed to bring a touch of sophistication to your dining area while accommodating your seating needs with ease.

The centerpiece of the ensemble is the dining table, constructed with a sturdy metal frame that promises durability and stability. The metal frame is finished in a striking blue hue that adds a vibrant pop of color to your space. The tabletop is often crafted from a sleek and easy-to-clean material like glass or high-quality engineered wood. Its smooth surface not only enhances the overall look of the table but also makes maintenance a breeze.