#because i started off with wrong proportions

[angeart]

[hhau]: a night for living

grian instantly slots himself next to scar as he returns to his side, still clutching the bird tightly. he nudges him a little and gives him a big, bright grin.

no matter how the others want to spin it, the fact is that they did win, and scar did insist on a prize for grian. with boundless affection, grian leans against him and presses his wing against scar's lower back, under his vex wings, in a little squeeze. hoping his thanks translates.

closeup below the cut

[hamandeggbun]

I hope this isn't weird but I've been reading this by @batmanisagatewaydrug and I had like the sudden, strongest urge to make art properly for the first time in ages, so uhhhh have some Jessie (or Jess? Can I call her Jess because I love her?) who is a terrible wet cat of a woman!

I wanted to get this done fast and human anatomy is not my forte so I traced a picture of Natalie in the City, who's a fashion blogger and has some cute fits, though no supervillain ones as far as I'm aware :3

[amplexadversary]

.

[brookaboo]

little protector

Katsuki bakugo x fem!reader

Summary: Bakugo and the reader get into an argument that leads to an emotional moment, with the reader upset and their young son witnessing it. The son, who is around four years old, becomes a little protector, comforting his mom and showing love even when his dad is mad. When Bakugo returns, he faces the consequences of his actions with his son's silent disapproval

The argument had started over something small, as they always did with Bakugo. He was stubborn, fiery, and sometimes too prideful for his own good. You’d tried to keep your cool, but his sharp tone and harsh words had worn you down until your voice cracked, tears spilling before you could stop them.

“Why do you always have to blow everything out of proportion, Katsuki?” you said, your voice trembling.

“Because I’m right, that’s why!” he barked back, his crimson eyes flashing with frustration. But the moment he saw the tears on your cheeks, his expression faltered. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead, he scoffed and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The house fell silent except for your soft sniffles as you sat on the couch, wiping at your face. You didn’t hear the little footsteps until a small hand tugged on your sleeve.

“Mommy?” a tiny voice asked.

You looked down to see your four-year-old son standing beside you, his big red eyes—so much like Bakugo’s—filled with concern.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you said, quickly wiping your cheeks again. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead climbing onto your lap and wrapping his arms around your neck in a firm hug. “Daddy’s mean,” he said quietly, his little face pressed against your shoulder.

You sighed, running a hand through his messy blond hair. “He’s not mean, baby. He just gets mad sometimes.”

Your son pulled back slightly, his small hands resting on your cheeks as he looked at you with a serious expression. “Even when I’m mad, I still love you, Mommy. Daddy should do that too.”

His words broke something in you, and fresh tears spilled over, though this time they were a mix of sadness and overwhelming love for the little boy in your arms.

“I love you so much, sweetheart,” you whispered, holding him close.

The front door opened, and heavy footsteps echoed through the hallway. Bakugo walked into the room, his expression guarded, though his eyes softened when they landed on you and your son.

Your son, however, wasn’t having it. He turned in your lap, crossing his tiny arms over his chest and glaring at Bakugo with all the defiance his four-year-old self could muster.

“Daddy, you made Mommy cry,” he said, his voice firm.

Bakugo froze, his eyes flickering between you and your son. “I… I didn’t mean to—”

Your son cut him off, turning his head away with a dramatic huff. “I’m not talking to you.”

You bit back a small laugh despite yourself, watching as Bakugo looked genuinely panicked for a moment. He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a frustrated sigh before crouching in front of the two of you.

“Hey, kid,” he started, his voice softer than usual. “Look, I was being a dumbass, okay? I didn’t mean to make your mom cry.”

Your son didn’t respond, still pointedly looking away. Bakugo’s gaze shifted to you, and for a moment, his tough exterior cracked.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low but sincere. “To both of you.”

You nodded, seeing the genuine remorse in his eyes. “Apology accepted. But you’ve got some making up to do.”

Bakugo sighed, then turned back to his son, who was still glaring at him. “Come on, kid. Don’t make me beg.”

After a long pause, your son finally looked at him, his arms still crossed. “You gotta say sorry to Mommy again. And hug her.”

Bakugo’s lips twitched into a small smirk as he glanced at you. “You heard the boss.”

He leaned over, wrapping his arms around both you and your son. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice soft. “I’ll do better.”

Your son finally uncrossed his arms, resting his head on your shoulder as he mumbled, “Okay, but don’t make Mommy cry again.”

Bakugo chuckled, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Deal, little man. Deal.”

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

pet names and looped pinkies pt.2 [s.h.] 18+

an: hiii me again :) literally one person asked for this so i ran to do it and ended up going a little crazy with it but oh well! hope you enjoy!! feel free to send suggestions or ideas or just chat :) also this is not edited i was too tired goodnight and god bless steve harrington

masterlist

summary: a part 2 to this in which you and steve are best friends but really you want more and are too scared to say it. (steve harrington x fem!reader)

warnings: okayyyy very anxious reader, bottling up our emotions, cursing, kissing, fluff, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, some spit, an almost blowjob, i think thats it??? 18+ MDNI!!!!!

wc: 9.6k

So what if you watched your best friend that you’re madly in love with get off in front of you! So what if you helped him! It was fine. Perfectly fine, right? 

Wrong. 

Your head was a mess, everything all jumbled up and you didn’t know how to sort through any of this. It had been three days since it happened and you’d been as normal as possible with Steve, answering his phone calls and eating with him on his lunch break. Everything was fine as far as he was concerned. It wasn’t until you climbed into your bed at night that your head started to spin, and not in a good way, your palms sweating and your chest feeling heavy. 

Confused. You were so beyond confused and frustrated with yourself over this whole situation. Confused because it had been one of the best experiences of your life and now your brain was picking it apart piece by piece and making your stomach turn and your head pound. Steve had said all the right things, all the things you’d wanted to hear for years, but you also had your hand on his cock so how much of that did he actually mean! Did he even remember it, want to remember it? What if he never wanted to do it again or even worse wanted to pretend like it didn’t happen? 

And frustrated. So fucking frustrated with yourself because these cruel, mean thoughts were based off nothing besides your own worries! They had no merit, but that did little to soothe the ache in your chest when you thought about your friendship with Steve. 

The rational part of your brain, what was left of it at least, knew that if you just talked to Steve that this could all be cleared up. He would listen to you ramble and maybe he had a good enough handle on his emotions that he could give you some clarity. You knew this. You knew Steve would never be cruel or malicious with you, especially about something like this. And a part of you even knew that despite how well you thought you had hid it, Steve probably knew just how much this, how much he really meant to you. 

But the much bigger part of your brain, the irrational part, held so much worry and fear about this potential conversation with Steve that you’d kept your mouth shut for the last 3 days. What if he regretted it? What if he didn’t mean anything he said and you were just there at the right time? What if this makes things weird and you lose your best friend? What if he just feels sorry for you? Does he know how you feel and decided to give you some attention out of…pity?

Your palms had little crescent shapes in them from where you had dug your fingernails, trying to ground yourself and failing miserably. Maybe this wasn’t a big deal. Maybe you were being dramatic and blowing this way out of proportion. Maybe Steve felt the same. But did you want to risk that? Could you? Because all you really knew at the end of the day was that you loved him. You loved him more than you ever thought possible, so much your heart felt like it could burst when he smiles at you or laughs a little too hard at something that’s not even funny. 

So you kept your mouth shut and tried to be as normal as possible. You kept that fake smile on your face and prayed that nobody noticed, or kept it to themselves if they did. You let Steve tug on your hair and loop his pinky with yours as if it didn’t break your heart a little more each time he did it. 

Any piece of him would be enough for you, it was better than not having any of him at all. 

                     ***************************

Steve could tell that something was up. He’d expected you to avoid him after that night and was pleasantly surprised when you answered his call on the second ring the next morning, smiling to himself and trying not to bounce on his heels like an overexcited puppy. 

But then he’d seen you in person. You’d come to Family Video on your day off to eat lunch with him on his break, giving him a quick once over when you first walked in but besides that…nothing. Maybe you were feeling a little shy, he could understand that. He saw the small smile you gave him when he pulled out two pb&j’s, one for him and one for you and it made his heart soar. He liked doing things for you, loved making you happy. 

He thinks he’d give you the moon if he could. 

Everything seemed normal so far, you were a little more quiet than usual but considering the circumstances he wasn’t too surprised by that. It’s when you’re sitting down with him in the break room that he notices. You’re talking now, laughing at his stupid jokes and teasing him like always, but it’s different. 

You’re here but you’re not. You’re not looking at him, you’re looking around him. You’re giving him smiles and giggles but they’re not yours. This is even worse than what he imagined because you’re trying to act normal. He can practically see your head spinning, thoughts going crazy behind your eyes and it kills him. It hurts because you’re keeping this from him. You’re hiding from him. 

If he’s being honest with you and himself, he’s been freaking out about this so he knows you’ve been too. But he thought you were good enough friends that it wouldn't have been weird to talk about it. He thought he made you feel safe and comfortable enough to confide in him. 

But maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he needed to try harder to make sure you knew that he was there for you. Always. That he’d do anything to make you feel safe. That you could come to him with anything and he’d listen without judgment. That he loved you.

“Do you wanna talk about it, honey?” He bit the bullet, hoping this didn’t blow up his face and praying to god you didn’t want to forget it had ever happened, he knew he sure as hell wouldn’t. 

“Oh..no-we don’t have to, I mean we can if you want but I’m fine. I mean, it’s fine, right? We’re good.” He knew he’d lost you, your eyes dropping to the floor to stare as your foot tapped nervously on the tile. 

“Later, then. We can talk about it when you’re ready, yeah?” The fucking Family Video break room wasn’t the place to have this conversation anyways but he couldn’t stand to see you pretending around him, acting like you were okay when you weren’t. 

He hated to see you pretending but he hated even more that he couldn't lean across this tiny table and kiss you. God he wanted to taste you again, to watch how your pretty pink lips got all swollen and slick and to feel how your hands tugged mercilessly on his curls while you dragged him closer to you. 

But he could be patient. He’d wait for you forever if that's what it took. 

                   ********************************

A party was the last place you wanted to be tonight, but when Steve had called you and practically begged for you to come, you found yourself agreeing before you knew what you were doing. As if you’d ever be able to say no to him. You did manage to tell him you’d meet him there, needing to give yourself some time to get your head on straight and pretend to be put together. 

You’re not even sure whose house this is, you didn’t recognize the address when it was given to you over the phone and standing on the front porch now in front of an open door with people and music pouring out of it, you think you’ve made a huge mistake. 

Despite the nagging feeling in your gut telling you to turn around and run back home, you think of Steve and you just don’t have the heart to not show up. Pushing through the crowd of people proves harder than expected, a grunt escaping when you catch an elbow or hip that almost knocks you over. You keep pushing and pushing until finally you’ve made it through and you’re face to face with Robin, a smile breaking out over her face before she’s rushing forward to pull you into a hug. 

She’s drunk, you can tell and she confirms as much when she pulls back and looks around to make sure no one is listening like she’s got some big secret. “Thank god you’re here! I don’t think I could take another second of Steve’s whining. We’re both three sips away from blackout drunk because I made it a game between the two of us.” She’s talking so fast and bobbing her head along that you can barely make out what she’s saying. But before you can ask her to clarify, she is. 

“Yep. Told him that everytime he mentioned you or asked about you we’d both have to take a drink. Bad game idea now that I think about it, tomorrow is gonna suck but it was worth it. He’s awfully quiet when he’s not blabbing about you. Jesus Christ I don’t even want to think about how many times I’ve heard the word bunny in the last hour and a half.” 

Your heart is thudding dangerously fast in your chest, a blush working its way up your cheeks and you think if you’d fall to the ground if it wasn’t for Robin still clinging onto you. 

Before you can even begin to dissect her words you’re pushed forward, a curse falling past your lips as you grip Robin’s arm hard enough to make her wince and curse at the person behind you. It doesn’t take long before you figure out who it is though. 

“There she is, there’s m’girl.” He’s right there behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and head tucked into the crook of your neck. You can feel his fingers digging into your tummy and his hair tickling your cheek as he nuzzles closer to you. His deep, gravelly voice sends a shiver down your spine and you can’t help but to relax into him, eyes fluttering closed as his words wash over you. 

He’s drunk, beyond drunk, and you know that but it doesn’t mean your thighs don’t clench at the quick, wet open mouthed kisses he’s leaving on the side of your neck before you can manage to pull away and turn around to get a good look at him. 

Turning around was a bad idea. Oh my god it was such a bad idea. Because when you do you’re faced with the sexiest, most devastatingly hot version of Steve you’ve ever seen in your life. 

Holy fuck. You’re fucked. So fucked. 

He has on a button up that hugs his arms so nicely you could cry, the first few buttons undone and showing off a patch of chest hair you didn’t know he had but is now making your eyes widen and fuck there goes another pair of panties. There’s a sheen of sweat over his neck and chest where he’s been dancing and his eyes are dark, pupils blown and almost crazed looking as he takes you in. Those lips you’ve dreamed about for weeks are parted just so, his tongue quickly swiping across his bottom lip and you’ve never seen anyone so perfect. Your hands are clenched at your sides as you drink him in, his hair a mess like he’s run his hands through it a million times tonight and his forehead and neck are slick with sweat too. Goddamn it. Goddamn this party and goddamn Steve Harrington for looking like that. 

You’re so caught up in Steve that you forget Robin is there, hell you’ve forgotten you’re at a party filled with people at all, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he’s looking like that or when he’s looking at you like that. Not when his hands are still on you and he’s giving you a smirk that would have any person dropping to their knees. 

Before you do anything too embarrassing you turn back to Robin who is now looking at you both like you’ve got 4 heads. “Rob, how are you getting home? I can walk you but I think you’ve both had enough fun tonight.” You ignore Steve’s whine from behind you, stomping his foot like a toddler at the prospect of having to leave. 

“Oh! Don’t worry about me, Nance is coming to pick me up. I just knew Harrington wouldn’t be concerned with anyone but you tonight so I called in for backup.” 

Looking back over your shoulder you see Steve with a shy smile as he gives you both a small shrug as to say “yeah and what about it”. Robin flies off before you can say anything else, assuming she’s seen Nancy or someone else she knows you turn back to Steve and take his hand in yours getting ready to tug him out the door when he stops you. 

“But you just got here, didn’t even get to have any fun with you, bunny.” He’s wearing an adorable little pout that makes you smile and you’re sure he won’t remember this tomorrow so you reach up to push his hair back, patting his cheek on your way. 

“You’re drunk, Steve. Like drunk drunk. I need to get you home and in bed, okay? We can do something tomorrow, promise, but I think you’ve had enough fun for tonight.” 

“Oh we’re going to bed? I can get behind that.” 

“You are going to your bed and I am going to my own bed tonight, Harrington.” You pinch his side to scold him but he doesn’t care, trying to come off as innocent as possible even though he’s got you reeling right now. 

If there’s one thing Steve knows how to be, it’s dramatic. “Ugh fine! But I am not leaving until you dance with me. Just one, baby, please?” 

“One, Harrington!” You huffed, pretending to be annoyed as he dragged you further into the crowd of people. You were too focused on him and the feel of his skin on yours to even pay attention to what song was booming around you. 

His hands were on your hips, yours wrapped around his neck as you swayed back and forth. You were almost positive this was not a slow song but you didn’t care. Everyone was practically dry humping around you, but when he flashed you that ‘King Steve’ smirk you couldn’t help but to smile back, shaking your head at him. 

He pulled you closer to him, leaning down to talk to you over the loud music and chatter from the people pressed in on every side of you. 

“So pretty, you know that?” 

“You’re drunk, Steve.” 

He scoffed, acting like that offended him. “And? That doesn’t make it any less true.” 

Rolling your eyes you just shook your head, trying to look at anywhere else but him. It was hard acting like his words didn’t make your heart skip a beat, but he was drunk and now was not the time to dive into this. 

Gripping your chin between his fingers, your eyes were brought to his. “M’serious. Don’t roll your eyes at me like it’s silly. You’re the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” 

Words stuck in your throat you didn’t know what to do besides look at him and why the fuck did it feel like you were about to cry. All you could do was nod, pulling back to create some sort of space between you two. You needed to breathe, to think and you couldn’t do that pressed up against him. 

“Your one dance is up! Let’s go, Harrington.” 

Dragging him behind you was like trying to drag a toddler out of a candy store. He was pouting, dragging his feet behind you and making this as difficult as possible. “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what? Your name?” 

“Harrington. Don’t call me that, I don’t like it, like it when you call me Stevie.” You didn’t say anything, just kept walking. This was going to be the longest ten minute walk of your life. He took your silence as his cue to keep going, “I keep thinking about it—your hand on my cock, I mean. Can’t even tell you how many times I’ve got off to it in the last few days. And your lips, oh my god, your lips. Takin’ up all the space in my brain, pretty girl.” 

“Steve!” You turned around and smacked at his chest. “We are not talking about this when you’re almost blackout drunk, alright? We’re taking you home. That’s it, you hear me?” 

“Yes ma’am!” He saluted you, doing a poor job at keeping his amusement at bay. It’s quiet between the both of you for the rest of the walk, up until you’re at his door and fumbling for his keys that he’s dangling above your head like it’s a game. 

“I’ll give you the keys if you promise to talk about this with me.” 

“Sleep outside for all I care!” 

“Oh cmon, please? Pretty please? You’re acting weird with me and I may be drunk but I’m aware enough to know I miss you, even if you’re right here.” 

Alright so maybe you hadn’t done a good job of pretending to be normal. Or maybe Steve just knew you better than you thought, which was scary. You needed to rip the bandaid off. Push your fears aside and try and work this out so you don't feel so miserable and alone all the time. 

“Tomorrow, okay? Go inside and get some sleep and I promise I’ll come over tomorrow and we’ll have a real conversation about this. I swear, Steve but we cannot do it while you're drunk off your ass.” 

Your ass that looks amazing in these jeans, might I add.

He huffed like a petulant child, rolling his eyes and dropping his keys into your open palm and moved aside so you could finally open the door. Pushing the door open you shoved him in, making sure he didn’t fall and then stepping back onto the porch. 

“I’m going, okay? Go drink a big glass of water and then go to bed. I’ll see tomorrow.” 

He flashed you one of those lazy smiles that made you melt, giving you a little wink as he leaned against his doorframe. “G’night, bunny. Can I get a goodnight kiss?” 

“Goodnight, Stevie.” 

All you heard as you walked down his steps was his laughter and the door closing, porch light turning on so you could see. You waited on the sidewalk until you were sure he locked his door. 

You were fucked, as per usual. 

                *********************************

It’s an hour before you’re supposed to be at Steve’s and you feel like you’re gonna throw up. You’ve spent the whole day pacing around your room and picking up the phone every fifteen minutes to cancel on him. 

But you can’t. You promised. And you’re cursing yourself for swearing anything to a drunk Steve, especially because he shouldn’t even remember it but of course he did! He called you bright and early, far too early for how drunk he had been, and reminded you about your “date” as he’d called it. 

You’d thrown on one of his t-shirts because the smell of him surrounding you was the only thing keeping you sane right now. You didn’t have the energy to get dolled up for him, too nervous about tonight to even think about it. 

You’ve gone back and forth about a million times on what to say and you’ve decided on the truth. You’d tell him you liked him as more than a friend, that you didn’t want to lose him but didn’t want to keep it from him anymore. 

And you’d hope for the best. 

God you were definitely gonna throw up. You’d cried probably five times today already, your hands had been shaky since you woke up, and you slept like shit. But you couldn’t keep going like this. Having little pieces of him was enough, at least you thought it was. But it wasn’t healthy and it wasn’t fair to either of you. 

The clock ticking away was taunting you. You needed to leave now and for the first time today your feet didn’t want to move. Cmon, be a big girl. 

                   ******************************

The walk to Steve’s was quiet but your mind was anything but. You were staring at his front door now like it would bite you if you got too close. He must have had a sixth sense, or he was watching from the window like a puppy because one second you're staring at his door and the next it’s thrown open and he’s there. He’s there and he’s beautiful and he’s glowing even though he should be glued to the bathroom floor from how much he drank. 

“How ya feeling, Harrington?” 

He tugged you in and closed the door behind you, that pout you’ve grown to love staring back at you. “Told you not to call me that, didn’t I? It’s Stevie to you.” 

He tried to pull you into him but you slipped past, running into the living room and plopping down on the couch, hearing his footsteps follow after you quickly. He sat down on the opposite end and you must have been frowning at that because he was quick to speak up. 

“I’m only sitting so far away because I actually want to have this conversation and if you’re too close to me I won’t be able to focus, honey. Don’t frown at me.” 

Eyebrows raised, you stared at him. He’d always been blunt with you, openly flirty but sometime in the last few days a switch had flipped with him too. You always thought it was casual but now he’s saying things that make you feel like he might want this too, might want you. 

“Oh, um, alright. That makes sense, I guess.” 

It was quiet and you were quickly realizing you weren’t the only one that was nervous. His fingers were running along the stitching of the couch and your hands were twisting in your lap. 

Fuck it, it was now or never. “I’m gonna start, if that’s okay?” He nodded at you and you cursed yourself for speaking up. But maybe if you just pushed it all out as quick as possible this would be quick and painless. Or maybe the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you whole. 

“I’m gonna say this and then we can go from there. I like you. A lot. More than best friends like each other. I don’t think best friends give their friends handjobs either but we did that and anyways I like you. If you don’t feel the same way that’s fine, I’ll get over it. I just don’t want to lose you, ya know? I get it might be awkward at first and it might take time but you’re just so important to me. The most important person in my life. And you’re so good, so special I would just be really sad if I didn’t have you. But it wasn’t fair to me or to you to keep it from you so here I am. Saying lots of shit. But the point is I like you and I want you anyway you’ll have me.” 

You were sucking in quick breaths by the time you finished, taking your quick and painless approach a little too far. You don’t think you actually took a breath during that little speech and that wasn’t doing anything to help with the lightheadedness you were already feeling. 

He was dead still and quiet beside you and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Okay…maybe you had completely misread this situation. The longer it took him to speak the worse you felt. Maybe you could make it to the door before he even noticed you were up? He seemed stunned. Maybe you could make it? 

“Don’t run.” 

Could he read your fucking mind? What the hell was that? But you obeyed, still looking straight ahead and didn’t dare turn toward him. God this was horrible. There was a reason you kept your feelings all bottled up, because there was a chance it would go like this! You let them out and you feel even worse than you did before. 

“I’m sorry I’m not saying anything but I’m a little pissed off and trying to find a way to say this that doesn’t come out mean,” 

wait—what? Oh god. If you were lost before you were gone now. Pissed off? About what? “I’m pissed off because it sounds like you're writing this off as nothing before I’ve even been aware there was something there. And I’m pissed at myself because I’ve done a pretty shit job at showing my feelings for you. I thought it was obvious I was obsessed with you, but it seems you didn’t pick up on it and I’m pissed we wasted so much time tip toeing around each other when you could have even officially been my girl for a long time now.” 

You didn’t even know where to start with that. Where to even begin unpacking what he had just thrown at you. A little part of you wasn’t totally shocked but you’d really just done such a good job at convincing yourself it was one-sided that you felt like you’d just gotten a bomb dropped on you. 

“I…well I just thought you were that way with everyone.” 

He looked at you like you were stupid, and maybe you were. Your brain was trying to catch up to what had just happened and was doing a shit job when he looked at you as if it was common sense that he felt that way. 

“Have you ever heard me call anyone else baby, or sweetheart, or honey, or anything like that?” 

“Well no, but—”

“Am I ever hanging all over anyone else? Trying to get their attention and be as close to them as possible? Tugging on anyone’s hair or holding their hands or making them cuddle me?”

“I mean not that I’ve been but Stevie—”

“You haven’t, because all that shit is reserved for you, baby. I only call you those names, mainly because I love to see your cheeks get all pink. I only touch you like that. Only want you on me. I get so fuckin’ jealous when you’re looking at anyone else. I tug on your hair like a toddler just so you’ll look at me or tease me or scold me. You get that? It’s only you. I’m sorry I didn’t make that clear enough but I fuckin’ swear. You’re my best friend but you’re so much more. You’re my girl, my bunny, aren’t you?” 

One second you were feet away from him on the couch and the next you’re launching yourself across and into his lap so quickly he barely had time to wrap his arms around you before your lips were pressed against his. It was hot and messy and urgent as if one of you would disappear at any moment. 

“M’sorry, Stevie. So sorry. It’s not you, it’s my brain. I just get so scared and I just care about you so much I just…I convinced myself you didn’t want me that way and I got so deep in those feelings I wouldn’t let myself see any different. And I didn’t bring it up, I hid it from you and I’m sorry. Oh my god, I’m sorry.” 

You’re a mess in more ways than one, emotions all over the place and a million thoughts racing through your mind as you kiss him all over, desperate to be as close to him as humanly possible. 

“Shh, shh, don’t be sorry, baby. Nothing to be sorry for. I get it, but now you know that you can talk to me about this stuff, right? We’ll work through it together and figure out the tough shit. I’m not going anywhere. You got me, okay? I’m all yours, always have been.” 

Nodding against him was all you could do, too overwhelmed and wrapped up in everything him to think about anything else. He was so sweet, too sweet. He understood you, cared enough to make you feel seen and heard and god it might not the right time but you didn’t care, all you could think about was being with him, close to him, anything you could get. 

He was yours now and you would not waste another second. 

“Take me upstairs, please.” The words mumbled against his lips but he heard them loud and clear, his hand grabbing yours and dragging you behind him like a rag doll.

He’s barely got the door to his room closed when you’re pushing his back against it, dropping to your knees in front of him and fumbling your way through trying to undo his pants. You know you seem desperate but you are desperate. You’ve never wanted someone like you want him and you think that if you don't get your mouth on him in the next five seconds that the world might actually end. 

He’s cursing above you, hands hovering like he doesn’t know where to put them before the land in his hair, head falling back against the door as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

Somehow between your quick moving hands and some help from Steve you manage to unbutton his pants, wiggling them over his hips and whimpering at the way they catch on his thighs. Neither of you bother with getting them off, far too occupied with how he’s straining against his boxers. His hands move for them but before he can you’re leaning forward, kissing the outline of his cock through the material and the noise that leaves his mouth is enough to have you moaning against him. 

Your knees are already feeling sore against the hardwood floor but you think if he keeps making noises like that you’d stay here for hours. 

Chancing a look up at him while you place kisses up and down the length of him you’re met with his eyes instantly, a pained look on his face as he stares down at you. You leave one last kitten lick through his boxers before you pull back enough to really see him. “Are yo- are you okay? Is this not…am I not..I haven’t done this in awhile so I’m not sure if it’s any good, I’m sorry.” 

He’s got you up to your feet so fast it makes you dizzy and he’s suddenly looking at you with a look so serious you’re scared you’ve fucked this up. All because you wanted his cock in your mouth damnit! 

Before you can apologize again he’s gripping your arms, forcing you to look at him. “You are perfect, that was perfect and fuck I can’t even believe I’m actually turning down the chance to have your pretty mouth on me but I think if you did I’d cum instantly and that would be really embarrassing. So as much as I want it, and believe me baby I want it, I need this to last more than two seconds, alright?” 

The initial sting of rejection is quickly replaced with a feeling of pure lust, a craving for him so strong that it makes you falter in front of him. You can’t help the small pout on your lips, you’d really wanted to taste him, to watch him fall apart above you! 

“Don’t pout, honey. Y’can have my cock whenever you want. But right now all I’m worried about is making you feel good, okay?” He tugs your bottom lip with his thumb and you smile shyly, lips puckering against the tip of his finger and leaving a small kiss there that makes him smile fondly. 

But then an idea sparks and you decide if you can’t taste his cock you want to taste some of him at least. You watch with satisfaction as his jaw goes slack, eyes widening when you part your lips around his thumb, taking it deeper into your mouth and showing him what he's missing by denying you what you really want. Both of you stand there quiet for a moment, you just barely bobbing your head on his thumb and moaning around it when he presses down lightly on your tongue. He’s cursing under his breath, pulling his thumb from your lips with a pop and dripping your chin that’s now slick with your own spit. 

“Greedy girl. So needy for cock you’ll stand here and suck on my thumb. S’kinda desperate don’t ya think, baby?” 

Under any other circumstance you think you’d be crying from embarrassment but even though his words are teasing, the way he’s looking at you is anything but. He’s got a mean mouth but his eyes are telling you how much he loves it, how lucky he is, how he’s just as desperate if not more. 

“Just yours,” His brows are furrowed and a piece of hair falls over his forehead and you clarify quickly, feeling a little shy under his stare, “just your cock, Stevie.” 

Realization dawns on him he feels a twitch in his boxers as he stares at you, lips messy with spit and eyes dark just like his. “Just for me, huh?” He can’t even make the adoration for you, a warm sensation running through his body as you nod at him with pink cheeks. 

He doesn’t think there’s anyone as perfect as you and the fact that you’re standing here, telling him you need him—fuck how did he get this lucky? There must have been a glitch in the system, some sort of blip but he wasn’t complaining and wouldn’t question it with you hanging on him like you were. 

Determined to show you that he was just as needy for you, wanted you just as badly he took your shoulders, gently pushing you until the back of your knees hit his bed. You fell back with a plop, moving yourself back when he nodded his head at you in encouragement. 

Hungry didn’t even begin to describe how Steve was looking at you. He was staring you down as if he wanted to devour you, and you’d let him. No one had ever shown any interest in going down on you and it had become something you’d just kind of accepted you wouldn’t experience.

Steve was going to change that. 

“Can I, baby?” His hands hovered over your shorts. You’d come over in these and one of his shirts, not caring enough to get dressed up when your goal was to get it all off as quickly as possible. “Need to see your pretty little cunt, bet she’s aching for me, yeah? But she’s all wet and needy and begging for my attention, isn’t she, bunny?” 

Jesus Christ, he had a mouth on him. His words alone had you clenching around nothing, hips lifting as you nodded quickly so he could pull your shorts down. He left your panties on and you cursed, a wave of embarrassment flooding through you, mostly because you knew he’d see how wet you were, how wet you had been for weeks because of him. 

Shorts thrown somewhere on the floor behind him your thighs closed quickly, head resting on your shoulder as you leaned up on your arms for support. You’d need all the support you could right now. But Steve wouldn’t have any of that. His tongue clicked, a reprimand for depriving him a look between your thighs when it’s all he’d been thinking about for months. He knocked your knees apart and if you weren’t so desperate to see his reaction your head would have fallen back on the bed. 

You’d have thought it was Christmas morning the way he was grinning. Or as if he had just won the lottery! And to him, he had. 

“Messy messy girl. Poor thing, I’ll have to fix this, yeah?” 

It was all you could do to nod at him and it was only seconds later that he dove in, taking one long, slow lick up the front of your panties, pressing a gentle kiss where your clit was that had you falling back and throwing your arm over your eyes. He was gonna be the death of you. 

Apparently that one little taste was enough to dissolve whatever will power he had left because in the next ten seconds your hips were lifted and panties were practically torn down your legs. He took no time at all getting himself back between  your thighs, hands on either one holding them apart so he could bury his face there. 

If it didn’t feel so good you’d be pissed that this was what you’d been missing out on, but when Steve was sucking your clit into his mouth with the right amount of pressure to have you seeing stars, or using his fingers to stretch you for his cock, you couldn’t have cared less about anything or anyone else. 

You’d also never seen Steve so quiet. Well, he wasn’t exactly quiet, you could feel his muffled moans and pleas against you as you gripped his hair in your hands and pulled him closer, but he was more content than he’d ever been. 

You’re not sure how you manage any thoughts, let alone words right now when he’s making you feel so good and you can feel that burn in your tummy that tells you you’re close, but you still find it in you to tease him. 

“Can’t believe this was all it took to shut you up, should’ve done this ages ago.” It doesn’t come out as clean and quick as you wanted, it takes about 30 seconds to manage the words. But you’re proud of yourself for teasing him but immediately regret it when he pulls away, a whine leaving your throat as you try and tug him back. 

“Y’sure you wanna be mean to me when it’s my mouth you’re grinding against?” 

His words ooze with confidence and you know it’s well earned because he’s got you in the palm of his hand. You take the opportunity to get a good look at him, eyes almost black and hair all messy from where you’ve pulled and tugged for the last 15 minutes. He’s wearing his signature smirk and you gasp at his swollen lips and chin that’s quite literally dripping wet with you. 

“M’sorry, sorry. Please keep going, I was so close.” He doesn’t make you beg, even though at this point you’d get on your hands and knees if he asked. He goes right back to work, picking up the same pace and you know it won’t take long before that burn in your belly engulfs you completely. 

He takes instructions well, groaning his acceptance when you tug him back to your clit, nodding his head in understanding. “Gonna cum, gonna cum, you’re gonna make me cum, Stevie,” You’re babbling now, hoping he can make out some of your words as you move your hips faster and harsher against him, chasing your own release. 

You can’t hear what he’s saying but can feel his mouth moving against you. He never truly shuts up. And you don’t know it but he’s begging for you to cum. It sends you over the edge anyways, thighs closing around his head tightly as you gasp and your body locks up. It’s too much and not enough, you’re buzzing from head to toe and then you feel him helping you through it, small little licks to your clit, his hands rubbing at your trembling thighs as you try and catch your breath. 

“Fuck” Steve might have said it, or it might have been you, you’re not sure. Chest heaving you can’t do anything but stare at the ceiling above you, trying to get your heart to slow down so you can make sense again. 

All of a sudden your line of sight is cut off by a mop of brown hair and two sparking eyes hovering over you, a smile so big you’re sure his cheeks must hurt. “Best meal of my life, baby.” His chin is still wet and you move your hand up to collect some on your thumb, sticking it in your mouth with a hum and he doesn’t waste any time before he’s diving down to press his lips against yours. Tasting yourself on his lips makes you moan and it’s then you feel his cock against your stomach, hot and slick and begging for attention. 

Pulling away you look down between you and see that sometime between getting you on the bed and making you cum he’s taken his boxers off. When you look back up to him he smiles sheepishly, 

“Sorry they were diggin’ into me and I was about to go crazy. But I can…I can put em back on. Don’t want you to feel like we have to do anything else, I’ll happily go back between your thighs and spend the rest of my life there, if you’ll let me.” 

Grabbing the back of his neck you pull him down until your foreheads are pressed together, shaking your head at him like he’s crazy. “Stevie, not to be too forward but I refuse to leave this room without you fucking me.” 

He laughs. It’s loud and it makes you giggle and your noses are bumping against one another and he’s pressing kisses to your cheeks and the corner of your mouth and he’s backing up just enough to get a good look at you, “Thank fucking god.” 

Steve was big. Not that you were complaining but damn you were a little worried about how that was going to fit inside of you. A little part of you was worried about him fitting but a bigger part of you just really wanted this to be good, for both of you. It was cliche but you wanted fireworks and passion and to feel him for days after. 

You weren’t a virgin, you’d been with a few guys over the years and sex for you had always just been…okay. Yeah, sometimes it was good, but it was never how you’d read in books or heard on tv shows and movies. Steve didn’t know it but he had just given you your first orgasm by sometime other than yourself! It had never been the mind blowing, toe curling experience you thought it would, but if anyone was going to break the standard, it was Steve Harrington. 

He must’ve seen the worry on your face, moving to lay beside you with his hand rubbing comforting circles on your hip. “You sure you wanna do this, sweetheart? Say the word and we can watch a movie or get late night pizza, whatever you want.” 

“Can this be one of those times where I say a bunch of shit and you don’t judge me or laugh? Just listen to me.” He nodded at you, all hints of teasing and playfulness gone. You’re sweet Stevie. 

“Ok, so, right okay—so I’ve had sex before and it’s been alright but I don’t want alright with you. I want hot and sweaty amazing sex that I’m gonna think about for the rest of my life, ya know? And I don’t doubt that you can deliver, trust me I’m sure you can,” you lean towards him as if you’re not the only ones in the room—the house, and whisper like it’s a secret, “you’ve seen your dick, right? That thing is massive and you seem like you know how to use it!” You sit back up then, only a little embarrassed at your rambling before you continue, “so I guess I’m more worried than I won’t be able to deliver and I just really like you and want this to be good for you and I think I’d never recover if you didn’t have a good time and—”

He stops you with a hand over your mouth, eyes wide and a small smile playing on his lips as he stares at you. “Take a breath, baby. Now.” 

Your mouth drops open as soon as he removes his hands, your mind going black at the tone of his voice, so stern and deep. But you do as he says, taking a deep breath and holding it for a few seconds before letting it out slowly, looking to him for confirmation that you’ve done something right. 

“Good girl, there ya go. Now, I didn’t want to cut you off but you were gonna run out of air if I didn’t. It’s my turn to talk now and you’re gonna listen, right?” You can’t help but just nod at him, your mind trying to catch up to your body as his words sink in and wash over you. 

He rubs his thumb against your cheek to soothe you and it does the trick, your pulse calming down enough that you can breathe again. 

“You do remember about half an hour ago when I stopped you from putting this pretty mouth on my cock because I would’ve cum in seconds, right? Because I’m sorry that I haven’t made it clear to you that this is already the best experience I’ve ever had. Fuck, baby, having your hand on me a few days ago was the highlight of my year. Eating your sweet little pussy is gonna get me off for the rest of my life. This is only good for me because it’s you. You hear me? You don’t need to be nervous or worried about me enjoying this, I swear to you I’m havin’ the time of my life.” 

You don’t realize you’re crying until he’s wiping away your tears with his thumb, cooing at you and making your heart thump so hard you can feel it in your toes.

“I love you, ya know.” 

This time it’s his turn to be stunned into silence but it only lasts a few seconds before he’s kissing you, or he’s trying his best, it’s hard to kiss when he’s smiling so big against your mouth. “Oh I know, and I love you too, more than anything.” 

You feel like a teenager, giggling and peppering kisses all over his cheeks, so in love and just so breathtakingly happy it’s almost unbelievable. You feel silly now that you ever worried about anything, not even he’s so perfect and sweet and kind and yours. He’s worth every minute of panic and stress though. 

Then he opens his mouth and you remember that you’re still embarrassingly wet and that he’s still throbbing against your hip. 

“And don’t worry about my cock, bunny, we’ll make it fit.” 

His thumbs slide under the band of his boxers and he looks to you, making sure it’s okay that he finally peels them off. When you nod he wastes no time in dragging them over his hips and down his legs until he’s kicking them off and onto the ground, both of you letting out a sigh of relief. 

You thought Steve’s cock was pretty the first time you saw it but that’s nothing compared to now. He’s painfully hard, tip red and leaking, smearing precum where it lays twitching against his belly. You hold a little resentment toward him now for not letting you put your mouth on him. You think there might even be some drool on your lip as you look at him. 

He’s watching you stare at his cock and trying not to cum on the spot, hands clutching his comforter do tight he might rip it. He has to move his eyes away from you so he can attempt to focus, too worked up to really make any sense right now. 

“Honey how do you…what do you think would be better for you?” He wants this to be as painless for you as possible, only wants for you to feel good. He’d twist into a pretzel if he thought it would be better for you. 

“I’ll uh, I’ll be on top. I think that’ll be best so I can um—I think that’ll be good for me.” He’s not totally sure that his eyes don’t cross at the thought of you riding him, he has to pinch the bridge of his nose hard just to right himself. 

You urge him to scoot back so he’s laying down, head resting against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. You move yourself to straddle his thighs, worried that you won’t be able to think straight. In a flash of bravery you whip off his t-shirt and watch as his cock twitches and his mouth drops open. His hands immediately find your painfully hard nipples, tweaking them softly and watching as your stomach clenches when he does. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ tits, swear to god. Jesus Christ you’re gorgeous, honey. All of ya, every inch.” 

“Can’t wait anymore, Stevie, need you in me please.” The words are barely out of your mouth before he’s reaching towards his nightstand and you don’t know what comes over you but before you can stop it you reach out and grab his arm. Neither of you say anything, staring each other down and waiting for someone to speak, to move. 

Fuck. You don’t know why you did that, obviously you should use protection. But…you’re on the pill and haven’t been with anyone in what? A year and a half? And the thought of feeling him…all of him—fuck you know it’s stupid but you can’t care about it right now when he’s so pretty and his cock is so pretty and you just want him. 

He speaks before you muster the courage too, voice sounding strained, “Baby..are you saying…are you sure? It’s been awhile since I’ve been with anyone and m’clean I swear but—fuck are you sure?” 

“M’sure if you are. Just wanna feel you, Steve.” 

He could weep. He could fall to his knees and weep. Here you are, prettiest girl he’s ever seen and not only do you even want to have sex with him but you want to do it raw—fuck he wasn’t gonna last. 

“Fuckin’ unreal, you are unreal.” 

Instead of answering you took the opportunity to move forward and hover over his cock. Some of your confidence drained, all of this feeling much more real now that he was inches away from you. But you knew there was nothing to be scared of, this was Steve. Your Stevie. There was no one else you trusted like him and you knew he’d take care of you above anything else. 

He took hold of himself, moving down a little so he could run his tip up and down your slit, coating his cock and hissing at the contact. Your grip on his shoulders stuttered when his tip bumped against your clit and you swear your whole body shuddered. 

“Feels good doesn’t it, baby? I’ll just hold still and you go at your own pace, we’ve got all the time you need.” You lifted up a little, his tip nudging at your entrance and as you sank down your lips fell open into a silent moan. Your eyes were shut but you could feel Steve watching you and you could feel his grip on your hips tightening as you moved painfully slow.

“Doin’ so good baby, so so good.” You preened under his praises, body relaxing as you opened up for him. You knew it would be a stretch, but it was good. The burn of him filling you up turning you on even more, if that was possible. Being this close, this full of him made you feel light headed in the best way possible. 

It took a few minutes but now you were fully seated, your hips pressed together as you dug your fingers into his shoulders, trying to keep your composure. It was overwhelming in the best way, your body on overdrive as you tried to accommodate all of him. 

He looked like he was overwhelmed too, little puffs of air coming out of his nose and his eyes screwed shut. He was still, not moving and for a minute you were worried but when you moved on him, his eyes flew open and his hands grasped your hips tight. 

“Wait, wait wait, baby—fuck. You gotta…I gotta…just don’t move. Please. Gimme a sec you feel too good, fuck.” You nodded, giggling a little and when you did you heard him gasp. Both of you could feel everything and it was so much. 

You sat still for what felt like hours but could have only been a minute or two before he looked at you, nodding slightly and you took that as your sign to start moving. Lifting up about halfway you dropped your hips back down, gasping at the sensation of him filling you up so well and the little curses slipping out of him only spurred you on. 

“Oh my god, Stevie. You’re so—I’m so full. So full of you I just..fuck.” You tilted your hips forward when you dropped down this time, his hip brushing against a spot inside of you that you didn’t know existed but lit you on fire. It made you go faster, sliding down hard and a moan so loud you should be embarrassed came out when your clit caught on the little patch of hair he had near the base. 

Steve seemed to be out of his mind, mumbling praises and curses under his breath. He couldn’t decide where to look, all the options too good to miss. He could look at your pretty face, all flushed and glowing from the sweat you’d worked up. He could look at your tits, so perfect and pretty and bouncing right in front of his face. Or he could look at where you connected. He could watch his cock disappear into you over and over again but that combined with how good you felt meant this would be over very soon. And he wanted, no needed, for this to last forever. 

As if his cock filling you up didn’t feel good enough, add in his filthy fucking mouth and his thumb he had rubbing quick, tight circles on your swollen clit and you were a goner. 

“Such a pretty girl. You really are my little bunny, huh, bouncing on my cock like you were made to do it. You were, weren’t you? Made for me, baby.” 

“Feels so good, honey. Snug little cunt feels like heaven.” 

“Gonna make me cum, you know that? Gonna cum with my girl on my cock.” 

It hit you out of nowhere, maybe it was him comparing you to a fucking bunny or maybe it was him calling you his girl. You’re not sure. All you know is one minute you’re there and the next your toes are curling and your face is buried in the crook of his neck, mouth open against his throat as you cum so hard your ears are ringing and you can’t feel or think about anything but him him him. 

Steve Steve Steve

“Fuckin’ shit, baby. M’gonna cum, gonna cum. Where do you want it, bunny? Huh? Please please please—shit.” You can’t even move your arms, let alone the rest of your body but you can feel how you’re still clenched around him and you can feel how both of your thighs are soaked. 

All you can manage is to lean up just a tad, lips brushing against the shell of his ear, “In me, want it in me, please Stevie.” And then he had one hand in your hair, holding you to him while his hips lifted and then stilled, groaning something obscene into your ear and if you weren’t so exhausted and overwhelmed that alone would have made you cum again. 

You laid there on top of Steve, his arms now around your waist as he pressed small kisses to your shoulder. Your legs felt like jelly and you really think you could pass out right here with him still inside of you. 

“Y’alright, baby? Still with me?” The words were tired and mumbled against your hair, both of you still kind of out of it but it was so good, you still felt so good. 

“M’okay, Stevie. Not to make your big head any bigger but Jesus Christ I think you just fucked me within an inch of my life.” He chuckled against you, teeth scraping over where your neck met your shoulder and you shivered. “Well I think technically you fucked me within an inch of my life, sweetheart.”

Pulling back just enough to get a look at him, his eyes were closed with a calm, relaxed look on his face. He must have felt you looking because one eye cracked open, a smile on his lips as he looked at you.

“What is it? Something on my face?” 

You shook your head and pressed a quick peck to his lips, threading your fingers into his hair and burrowing back into the crook of his neck. 

“No, I’m just happy, just love you.” 

“I love you most, pretty girl.” 

[sgt-tombstone]

Like A Baby

————

Ghost sleeps like he’s in a coffin

On his back, straight as a board, arms crossed over his chest, the whole nine yards

When Soap and Gaz see him do it for the first time in the field, they think it’s a joke, that he’s leaned into the whole Ghost thing a little too hard. They think it’s funny, albeit slightly disconcerting

But over the course of several missions, they realize that Simon genuinely has no idea that he does it. He goes to sleep laying down like anyone else, in whatever position is most comfortable in the middle of an op, but as soon as he slips unconscious, his body naturally arranges itself into the most macabre position possible

They want to tell him about it so badly, but Price convinces them not to. He doesn’t tell them why, he just says that it would be a bad idea, and they trust him enough not to push it

Until Soap lets it slip one night while they’re at a bar, makes a stupid joke about Ghost “sleeping like the dead” that Gaz laughs a little too hard at and they only realize their mistake when Ghost’s eyebrows knit in confusion. So they fess up, reluctantly, and tell him that he sleeps like a corpse. Arms crossed and everything. He refuses to believe it at first, because denial has always worked for him in the past, and he wouldn’t put it past the sergeants to pull his chain like this, especially since they don’t know. But then Soap says he’ll snap a picture the next time he sees it and Ghost starts to get scared

Sure enough, two weeks later finds them in the middle of fucking nowhere in the middle of the fucking night, and Ghost settles down against a wall that’s more rubble than structure. He resolutely stays sitting up because he desperately wants to prove the sergeants wrong, but as soon as he falls asleep, his body slumps over and turns until he’s on his back, arms crossed, spine straight. Soap snaps his picture and feels guilty about it all night

When he wakes up the next morning, Ghost’s first words to him are, “show me,” and Soap should know better but apparently he doesn’t because he pulls up the picture. It’s dark and slightly blurry but unmistakable. Like a fucking corpse

It sends Ghost into a tailspin. The only reason why he doesn’t lose it completely is because Price is there to hold him together. Instead, he shuts down. It feels like a betrayal from his own body, his own mind. It’s a sick joke, a cosmic ‘fuck you’, a trauma response of epic proportions. He’d escaped his own grave, but apparently his sleeping mind didn’t know that

When they get back to base, no one sees or hears from Ghost for close to three weeks. Soap is losing his mind, Gaz is ready to tear the base apart to find him, and even Price (usually very used to Ghost’s moods) is visibly worried. Finally, Soap corners him in the sniper tower where he’s been taking stim packs and caffeine pills in an attempt to avoid sleep altogether. Soap damn near drags him, stumbling and off balance from exhaustion, to bed. Despite how tired he is, he can’t fall asleep, his heart and mind racing with panic at the thought of his unconscious body forcing him to become a corpse again

Right up until Johnny lays down next to him. And then his mind goes blissfully quiet. His heart is still pounding, but for a completely different reason as Johnny curls his body around Simon’s, arranging their limbs in such a way that Simon couldn’t possibly straighten out. It’s the warmest he’s ever been, the most comfortable he’s ever been. With his arms around Johnny and Johnny’s head tucked under his chin, he falls asleep effortlessly

When he wakes up, the first thing he mumbles is, “how did I…?” but he can’t bring himself to finish it, terrified of the answer. Johnny just smiles up at him, mohawk askew and cheek creased from being pressed against Simon’s shirt all night, and says, “like a baby.”

Simon never sleeps like he’s in a coffin ever again

[gay-dorito-dust]

How’d they react to you wearing their clothes one day…

Dick lives for moments like these.

He loves just how domestic it makes everything feel.

He smiles widely upon seeing you wearing his clothes that you swore if he smiled anymore the he already was his face would split in two.

‘What’re you smiling about so early in the morning.’ You’d ask and Dick -acting as though this was something he had been waiting to be asked- stood up from the bed and walked over to you to rest his forehead against yours, all the while pulling you in close by the waist. ‘Why shouldn’t I be smiling when the first thing I see this morning is you wearing something of mine?’ He asks rhetorically. ‘If anything this should be the only appropriate way to wake up to in the morning.’

Dick wasn’t lying when he said this as he honestly hopes that he’d get to wake up to you wearing his clothes more often than not.

Seeing you dressed in his clothes made his heart swell the desire to see you clothed in only his shirts and sweats, he’ll even modify them to better suit you. The takeaway to all this was that seeing you in his clothes unlocked a part of his brain that made him feel boastful, proud even at the fact that it was his clothes that you were wearing and nobody else’s.

It made him feel a little cocky that you were willing to wear his clothes as a not so bold statement as to show that you were taken.

Dick would wholeheartedly do the same thing if you had any clothing that he could fit into and would claim a proportion of your clothes for himself. And if you were to ever confront him about it, he’ll only put his hands on his hips whilst proclaiming that both of yours and his clothes were now to be called ‘our clothes.’

Jaime loves, loves, loves it to an embarrassing amount.

Khaji-Da would make a snide comment on how his dopamine and serotonin levels were through the roof solely because you were finally, finally wearing his hoodie after many days of pestering on his end.

Khaki-Da: Jaime Reyes, you are currently experiencing an arousal-

Jaime: don’t. Don’t ruin this for me Khaji-Da, you don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this day.

Khaji-Da: …you’re hopeless Jaime Reyes.

Jaime would defiantly make an entire album dedicated to you wearing his hoodie, just so he had something to look back on such a special day fondly, and show off to his friends whilst bragging about how cute and hot you looked; much to his friends annoyance.

Jaime would gladly give up all his possessions just to see you in his clothes a lot more, so much so that it may become an issue later on with how obsessed he is with seeing you in his clothes. His clothes are now your clothes. End of discussion, he will not hear otherwise just take his clothes like you took his heart.

Khaji-Da calls him dramatic bc of this…

Jaime takes full offence to this claim because god forbid he hyped up his beloved and show his appreciation for how good you look in his clothes.

Bruce thinks that you’re trying to tell him something by doing so. He’s not been in relationships long enough to understand just how gratifying seeing his partner wearing something of his.

Are your clothes uncomfortable? The wrong size?

Is the material of the clothing making your skin crawl and itch? Irritating you to insanity?

However he will not ignore the warm feeling he gets within his chest up seeing you wear one of his shirts. It was as though seeing you wear something of his satisfied an itch he didn’t know he ever had, but he wouldn’t mind you wearing his clothes more often.

But still he was a little confused as to why you out of everything of his that you could’ve chose to wear, why was it that you always went for the ones that he was certain he had worn not even twenty minutes ago, more especially the over worn black shirt with the obvious signs of wear and tear.

He doesn’t mind getting you some better quality clothes but when you still continue to wear his clothes afterwards, he gradually starts to piece together why that maybe, and when he does come to the conclusion that it was in due to how his clothes made you feel closer to him when he’s away…

He internally melts and intentionally takes his shirt off in places in the manor where he knows you frequent, before then leaving the room and waits for you to take the bait like you always do, and feels himself swell just that little bit with pride and joy when he sees you as if he didn’t just orchestrate the whole thing. 💀

If you were to ever confront him about how fabricated it all seemed, he’ll deny it on all fronts and claim that he’s being a little messier than usual.

You don’t believe this for a second but don’t want him to stop putting random articles of clothing out for you to wear because it’s the cutest thing he’s ever done. And so a silent mutual agreement was reached between the two of you.

Jason has read a lot of romantic novels in preparation for this day.

He always wondered what it would be like to experience seeing the love of his life wearing his clothes specifically.

So upon seeing you wear his clothes made him feel things that he long thought himself incapable of feeling after coming back from the dead; He even becomes much more touchy-feely because of it!

He’s never seen a sight more beautiful than you standing in the kitchen wearing his red hoodie as you make him and yourself a drink.

Jason thought he died again and went to heaven this time. He has you to thank for that because nothing can ever top the heavenly image of you in his red hoodie, looking as though you’ve just woken up, but still looking ethereal and happy nonetheless.

All this makes his cuteness aggression towards you flare up as all he does for the entirely of the day is hold onto you tightly from behind, burring his head deep into your neck, as his hands find yours within the pouch of the hoodie and holds onto them.

‘You’re awfully affectionate this morning.’ You’d joke, loving the powerfull feeling of having this six foot something man practically clinging onto you.

‘You just look so fucking gorgeous in my hoodie and you expect me not to want to touch you?’ Jason replied, tightening his grip with no plans of letting go anytime soon, and you weren’t about to start complaining anytime soon.

[valkyriexo]

HEART OF HATE | Bang Chan

ᑉ³pairing; bf chan x Reader

ᑉ³genre; Angst, Smut

ᑉ³warnings; SMUT MDNI,Jealousy, dirty talk, swearing, P in V, unprotected sex , fingering,arguments, mentions of hate. manipulative chan. veryyyyy toxic chan. use of 'slut', 'good girl' , hair pulling, gagging, Smut. SMUTTT minors do NOT interact This chan is not a very good person read at your own risk!

ᑉ³Authors Note; Part or kinktober collab with @dandelions-143 Kinktober masterlist

The air crackles with tension as you and Chan face off, hearts racing and voices tight with anger. You can’t believe this is where your relationship has led, but here you are, standing in the middle of the bedroom, emotions on a razor’s edge.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were hanging out with her?" you snap, your voice shaking with rage. The words taste bitter on your tongue, every syllable laced with the resentment that’s been building for weeks. "I had to hear it from someone else—again. "

Chan’s face tightens, but you don't let up, the fury burning through you too strong to stop. "I trusted you. I trusted you, and you’re sneaking around with her of all people? I can’t even trust what you’re doing when I’m not around! How many times are you going to sneak around with her behind my back?"

“You’re blowing this out of proportion—”

"No, I’m not," you cut him off, stepping closer, your voice growing louder. "I’m not stupid, Chan. This isn’t the first time! You’ve been sneaking around with her, and you expect me to believe it’s just innocent?”

His eyes narrow, jaw tightening defensively. “Because she's just a friend. Why can’t you get that through your head?"

“A friend?” you scoff bitterly, your laugh sharp and cold. “If she’s just a friend, why hide it? Why let me find out from someone else, like I’m the outsider in my own relationship?” Your voice wavers, caught between the anger and the hurt threatening to choke you. "Do you even hear yourself? How am I supposed to believe anything you say?"

"I didn’t tell you because I knew you’d react like this!” He replies bitterly.

Your heart pounds as disbelief courses through you, the fury bubbling up again. "You’re hanging out with her behind my back, keeping it a secret, and you think I’m overreacting?"

The hurt laces through your words, but the anger is stronger. "If it’s so innocent, why lie? Why not just tell me? Do you think I wouldn’t notice? That I wouldn’t care that you’re sneaking off with her when you know I don’t trust her?"

Chan’s expression hardens. “She’s just my friend. You’re reading into this way too much.”

"Then why are you keeping it from me?" you fire back, eyes narrowing. "Friends don’t have to sneak around, Chan. You’re hiding it because you know it’s wrong. You knew how I’d feel, and you did it anyway."

Your voice cracks, the betrayal cutting deep. "What am I supposed to think? That you just happened to forget to mention her every time you sneak off to see her?"

The room is thick with silence as you stare him down, the weight of everything he hasn’t said, everything he’s been hiding, hanging heavy between you. Chan’s eyes flicker with guilt, but his jaw tightens, and his hands ball into fists at his sides. “It’s not like that—” he starts, but you cut him off, your voice raw and trembling.

“Not like what?!” you snap, your heart pounding so hard it’s all you can hear. “You always have some excuse, don’t you? ‘It’s not like that.’ ‘You’re overreacting.’ But I’m done with your lies!”

“I’m tired of being the last one to know,” you continue, voice rising. “Do you even care about how this feels? Do you even care about us?”

He takes a step back, running a hand through his hair, but it only fuels your fury.

He scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Wow, look at you, making yourself the victim. It’s pathetic.”

The word stings, sharp and biting, like a slap across the face. Your chest tightens as you glare at him, trying to swallow the hurt, but it only fuels the fire burning inside you.

"Pathetic? Are you kidding me?" You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to keep some semblance of composure, but your voice shakes with the effort. "This isn’t about playing the victim, Chan. You keep dismissing my feelings like they’re nothing, like I don’t even matter."

“I can’t just stop hanging out with people because you have issues with them!” Chan snaps, his voice sharp, eyes blazing with frustration. “What, do you want me to check in with you every single time I see someone? I’m not your prisoner!”

Your anger flares, the heat of his words igniting something deeper in you. You can’t believe he’s twisting it like this.

“This isn’t about control or keeping tabs on you! It’s about being respectful of our relationship, of me!”

“You’re so self-absorbed! I can’t believe you’re trying to manipulate me into choosing between you and my friends!” Chan shouts, his voice rising to a near scream, the sharp edge of his anger cutting through the air.

I’m not trying to control you, Chan! I’m trying to communicate! I’m trying to get you to understand how this makes me feel, and you need to stop acting like I’m the problem here!”

His face twists, and when he speaks again, his words are venomous, each syllable laced with contempt. “Maybe if you weren’t so insecure, this wouldn’t even be an issue! It's exhausting, you know that? Always whining about how I should act, how I should feel, what I should do!”

Your heart pounds in your chest, a raw, painful ache spreading through you as his words sink in. "Whining?" you echo, disbelief coloring your tone. "Is that what this is to you? I’m whining because I want to feel respected in our relationship?"

“All i'm saying is that if you can’t handle me having friends, then maybe you’re the one who needs to figure out what you want! I’m not going to tiptoe around your insecurities!” He glares at you, his frustration reaching a boiling point. “You’re impossible! I can’t keep catering to your ridiculous expectations!”

The words hang in the air, and for a split second, you hesitate, the weight of the situation crashing over you. But the anger is too strong, the pain too raw.

“Maybe we should just break up then!” you shout, the words searing through the room, a final, burning accusation. They slip out before you can stop them, and the moment they do, everything falls silent. You don’t even pause to consider the implications, the anger in your chest too all-consuming to hold back.

His expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of pain that flashes across his face, quickly masked by anger. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, the words caught in his throat. The silence feels like a weight pressing down on you both.

"Fuck you! FUCK YOU CHAN. I’m tired of fighting for someone who doesn’t even care about my feelings!" You push forward, fueled by the heat of the moment. “Take all your things and go! I never want to see you again!”

His eyes widen, disbelief etched across his features. “You’re kicking me out of our house? Where am I supposed to go in the middle of the night?”

Your anger flares again, and you shoot back, “Go to her! Since you’re sneaking around with her anyway, I’m sure she’d love to have you!”

The accusation stings, and he glares at you, his voice rising. “This isn’t about her! You’re the one who’s making this a bigger deal than it is!”

“Then what is it about, Chan? You don’t care about me, and you don’t care how this feels! It’s all about you and your precious friends!”

“Stop trying to paint me as the villain,” he scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “It's not her fault youu dont trust me!"

“I’m the one who’s been honest with you!” you scream, the words spilling out in a desperate rush. “You’re the one sneaking around and lying! I hate this! I hate you! I hate everything about how you treat me, how you act like I’m the problem! I hate you for doing this to us!”

Chan’s eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks taken aback, as if your words have struck him harder than any physical blow could. The heat of your anger hangs in the air, but now there’s something else—fear. Fear that he might lose you for good.

“Wait, stop,” he says, his voice suddenly quieter, almost pleading. “You don’t really mean that, do you? You can’t hate me!”

“GET OUT!” you scream, the words tearing from your throat like a wild animal escaping a cage. The intensity of your emotions threatens to consume you, leaving no room for mercy or second chances. “Get out! Just go!”

But before you can turn away, Chan strides forward, determination etched into his features. He grabs your arms, holding you in place as he looks deep into your eyes, desperation flooding his voice. “Look at me,” he demands, his gaze piercing through the fog of anger and hurt. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t want me anymore, and I’ll go.”

The world around you seems to blur, his grip grounding you even as your heart races. You want to scream, to push him away, but something in the intensity of his gaze keeps you rooted in place.

“Chan…” is all you manage to say.

“Look me in the eyes and tell me you hate me, and I’ll leave. I'll leave you alone and I won't bother you anymore,” he repeats, his expression a mix of desperation and fear, as if he’s bracing himself for the worst.

You open your mouth, but the words are lodged in your throat, heavy and suffocating. “I-I...."

The truth is, despite everything that’s happened, you don’t truly hate him. You hate what he’s done, how he’s made you feel, but your heart still aches for him.

"I-... Chan please." You beg, hoping he would let up on his grip.

“Please, just tell me,” he pleads, his voice softer now, as if he can sense your struggle. He gets closer, his lips now centimeters away from your ear. You can feel his breath, warm and shaky.

“I...I....I can’t,” you say finally, your voice barely above a whisper, but the words hang heavy between you both.

“Then what do you want?" he says quietly into your ear, his voice growling almost, a mix of desperation and determination. You can feel his warmth radiating against your skin, and he places a soft kiss on your ear, sending shivers down your spine. It’s a gentle gesture, yet it carries an undercurrent of desperation.

“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs again, his voice low and laced with urgency, lips brushing against your skin. With each word, his kisses trail down to your jaw, lingering there, tempting you to forget the hurt and the betrayal.

You can feel your resolve wavering. His proximity, the warmth of his body, the way he’s looking at you with such intensity makes your heart race for reasons you don’t want to acknowledge.

“Chan… this isn’t fair,” you breathe, trying to push him away, but he’s relentless, his kisses growing more insistent.

“Not fair?” he whispers against your skin, his lips moving closer to your mouth. “What’s not fair is you pushing me away when you know how I feel. You know I need you. I don’t want to lose you.”

You murmur, trying to regain control, but your voice carries no words as his lips hover just above yours, his breath mingling with yours.

Then, with a sudden rush of warmth, he kisses you—softly at first, a gentle brush that ignites the embers of longing within you. It’s a kiss filled with desperation.

The warmth of his mouth against yours sends shivers down your spine, drawing you in even as your mind screams to remember the hurt, the betrayal. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, his touch igniting every nerve ending, making it harder to think.

“Chan…” you whisper against his lips, torn between the passion of the moment and the ache of your heart. But he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours with an urgency that steals your breath, coaxing you to surrender.

His tongue finds its way past your lips, his taste filling your mouth, sending sparks of pleasure through your veins. He kisses you with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt.

You should push him away, tell him no, but the heat of his kiss melts away the last remnants of your resistance, and before you know it, you find yourself giving in, your body responding to his touch, your desire matching his. He pulls off his shirt, his eyes still burning as he presses his lips against yours once again.

You can feel the hardness of his body against yours, the heat of his desire, and the promise of more, and sooner or later both your clothes were on the floor.

He pushed you back, your back thuding against the bed.

His kisses trail down to your neck, and you tilt your head back, lost in the sensations. His hands caress your body, sending waves of pleasure through you, as his lips explore every inch of exposed skin.

The ache inside you grows stronger, demanding to be sated, and you give in to it, letting the passion take over.

He pulls back, just for a moment, just long enough to look at you with such raw need that it takes your breath away. Then, he moves forward, his body covering yours, and your eyes close as you savor the feeling of his weight on top of you.

He kisses you again, and this time, there's no holding back. His hands trail down, moving lower, his fingers gently rubbing your clit. You let out a gasp, your body responding with pleasure.

Chan could sense your desire and quickly moved to satisfy it. He gently spread your legs, his fingers sliding into your wet pussy. You let out a soft moan, your body arching towards him as he began to finger you.

"Oh, God," you moaned, his fingers expertly bringing you closer to the edge. You could feel the pleasure building inside you, his touch igniting every nerve ending, taking you higher and higher.

He kept his pace steady, his fingers moving in and out of you, the pleasure intensifying with every move.

"Yes, yes," you moaned, your body quivering, your climax nearing.

With one last thrust of his fingers, you came, your body shuddering with pleasure. Your moans fill the room, your release a release from the pent up emotions, from the pain and the hurt.

Chan barely gave you time to react when he flipped you over on all fours. He pressed his hands on your lower back and pulled your hair closer to him until his lips were right near your ear.

"You're mine, and don't you forget it." he whispers, his breath hot and heavy. You looked at his eyes reflected in the mirror that stood facing the bed.They were filled with lust, darkened with desire, locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath hitch.

You felt the tip of his cock brush against your entrance, and you bit your lip, anticipation building inside you. But instead of putting it in, he began to tease you, moving it in slow circles around your clit.

"Chan.. please.." you moaned.

"Please, what?" he replied sternly.

"I need you."

"Yeah? Beg for it," he growled, his voice low and menacing. "Beg for my cock, you little slut."

You glare at him. You shake your head, crossing your arms over your chest. “No,” you say defiantly.

He leans closer, his breath hot against your ear. “Beg,” he repeats, his fingers tracing patterns on your thigh. You shiver, hating that your body betrays you like this. You want to push him away, to tell him to fuck off, but you can’t. You’re too caught up in the moment, in the way he’s looking at you, like he wants to devour you. He leans back, his eyes still locked on yours.

“Fine,” he says, his voice dripping with disappointment. “If you won’t beg, then I won’t give you what you want.” You watch as he releases your hair, causing you to fall foward a bit.

"Wait..p-please," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Please, fuck me."

"Sorry, come again?" he says.

You clench your fists, hating that you're begging him, but you're so fucking horny. You need his cock inside you, filling you up, making you scream with pleasure. "Please, Chan, I'm begging you. Please, fuck me."

He shakes his head and grabs you again, resuming your previous position, his cock brushing against your clit again, making you gasp. "No, not yet. You need to beg some more."

You whimper, your body trembling. "Please, Chan, I'll do anything. Just fuck me already."

He chuckles, his fingers tracing your nipples, making them harden. "Anything, huh?"

He continues to tease you, his cock brushing against your clit, his fingers playing with your nipples. You're begging him, pleading with him to fuck you, but he's not listening. He's enjoying this too much, and you hate him for it.

But at the same time, you love it. You love the way he's making you feel, the way he's making your body respond to his touch.

"Please, Chan, I can't take it anymore," you gasp, your body trembling with need. "Please, fuck me."

He finally relents, his cock sliding inside you.

He started thrusting, each stroke hitting you deeper and deeper, the pleasure bordering on pain. You could see your reflection in the mirror, your face contorting in pleasure, slowly getting more...

and more ...

and more utterly fucked out.

You watched as your body arched and quivered, and the sight sent another wave of pleasure through you, intensifying the sensations. He groaned, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "You're fucking mine, understand?"

You couldn't respond, the pleasure overtaking you, rendering you unable to form words. His thrusts became faster, harder, his cock reaching places you didn't even know existed.

You moaned out, shutting your eyes as you were unable to hold back, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

"Look at yourself, baby." he growls, his hand tightening in your hair. When Chan saw no reaction from you, he spoke again.

“Be a good girl and keep eye contact with me.” He said, lifting your chin up so you could meet the dirty image plastered in the mirror once again. You opened your eyes and your reflection looked back at you, cheeks flushed, lips parted, eyes hazy with lust.

You looked debauched, completely at his mercy, and you loved it. Fuck, you tightened even more with that realization.

Chan grunted, picking up the pace, fucking you harder and deeper, your cunt clenching more and more around him.

"You hate me? Are you sure? Your body tells me a different story." He said as his hips slamming into you, and you could feel the pressure building again, the pleasure intensifying.

He grunted, his movements growing erratic, and you knew he was close. "Say it," he growled, his voice laced with desire. "Say you hate me"

"I- I- I ha-ha," you breathed, your body quivering, the pleasure nearing its peak.

"Say it." he commanded, his thrusts hitting you even harder.

"I-I h-hate you," you moaned, the words tumbling from your lips. He began to pound you even harder.

"Again!"

"I- I hate you. Oh, God, I hate you so much," you cried, the words spilling from your lips, your body teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

" Fucking slut. You can't resist me even if you say you hate me. Can't resist my dick inside you, can you?"

Your body shook with pleasure, and then you were coming again, the orgasm tearing through you, your cries filling the room.

And then, just as you thought it was over, his hand grabbed your hair, pulling your head back, and he pushed his cock into your mouth.

You gagged, the sudden intrusion nearly overwhelming, but the pleasure was too much, and soon, you found yourself giving in, the feeling of his cock filling your mouth, the taste of his precum sending shivers of pleasure through you. "Tell me you hate me now, huh"

You moaned, the words muffled by his cock, the pleasure coursing through your veins, the heat and the taste and the feel of him too much to resist.

And then, he was coming, his cock pulsing in your mouth, his cum filling you, the taste of it salty and sweet and everything you needed.

You swallowed, his cum dripping down your chin, the taste of it lingering on your tongue. You felt exhausted, drained, yet somehow satisfied, the pain and the hurt replaced by something else.

And as he pulled out, the last traces of his release spilling onto your lips, you knew that despite everything, despite the betrayal and the lies, there was still something between you, something stronger than the pain and the anger.

"Chan-"

He cut you off with a kiss, his lips crashing against yours, his tongue probing into your mouth. You kissed him back, your body responding to his touch, the pain and the hurt giving way to desire once again.

As your lips moved together, the intensity began to shift. It softened, the anger fading as something deeper, something raw and vulnerable, took its place. When he finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as the room fell into a quiet, charged silence.

"I’m sorry," you whispered first, the words trembling on your lips. "I didn’t mean what I said. I don’t hate you, Chan… I could never hate you. I was just—" You paused, your voice thick with emotion, your chest aching. "I was so hurt, Chan.."

Chan’s hands cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that were starting to fall. “No, don’t be sorry,” he murmured, his own voice breaking slightly. “I deserved that. I didn’t tell you about her because… because I didn’t want to deal with what I knew it would do to us. I was selfish.”

Chan sighed, his eyes softening as he looked at you, the weight of his own regret heavy in the air. “I know you didn’t mean it. But I also know I gave you every reason to feel that way. I should’ve been honest. I should’ve trusted you with the truth instead of making you feel like you had to find out on your own.”

You bit your lip, the words still caught in your throat, but you forced them out. "I felt so betrayed, Chan. But it wasn’t just because of her. It was because you didn’t trust me enough to handle the truth."

His face twisted with regret, and he nodded slowly. “You’re right. I didn’t trust you, and I’m so sorry for that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us, but I only ended up hurting you more.”

You could see the remorse in his eyes, and it broke your heart to know that both of you had let things get this far. You reached up, your hand resting against his cheek as you searched his gaze. “I don’t want to fight like this. I don’t want to hurt each other.”

Chan leaned into your touch, his eyes closing for a moment as he sighed deeply. “Neither do I. I don’t want to lose you because of my mistakes.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest, and you leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “I don’t want to lose you either,” you whispered. “But we can’t keep hiding things from each other. If we’re going to move forward… we have to be honest.”

“I know,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I promise, no more secrets. I’ll be better. I’ll be the person you deserve.”

You nodded, the heaviness in the room starting to lift, replaced by something more fragile, but real. “I’ll be better too,” you whispered, your voice full of sincerity. "I shouldn’t have said those things. I didn’t mean them."

Chan’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close, his lips brushing gently against your forehead in a silent apology. “I love you,” he whispered against your skin, the words raw and filled with everything he hadn’t been able to say before.

"I love you too," you breathed, your heart full of both pain and hope.

In that moment, you both knew that there was still a lot to work through, but there was also a chance—a chance to heal, to rebuild. And despite everything, you wanted to try.

ઇଓ M.LIST | Ko-Fi | Taglist | Thank you for your support ♡ | Consider leaving a comment, reblog or like ♡ | © 2024 Valkyriexo 

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[cbartonscoffee]

I think I've never been more aware of just how many people only get their info of the batfam through fanfic. I finally started reading Red Robin (2009) and I can not believe how many things are blown out of proportion. Particularly about Dick and Damian.

First of all, Dick does try to put limits and he does get fed up with Damian's ways sometimes. Out of the three first interactions of them in the comic, at least in two he tells him to shut up. And one of those is when Damian starts to brag about being Robin and Tim being useless, he tells him to shut up twice.

Another thing about that moment, is that they treat it like Dick completely dismisses Tim and treats him as unimportant. He doesn't. He takes him seriously, he tells him he needs him, he tells him he views his as an equal, as someone capable. And he also tells him he's concerned about him and that he needs to start processing Bruce's death. Could that have been a little harsh? Yes, but he needed to do it without making Tim think there was room for him to be convinced about his theory because let's be honest, Tim would've taken anything less than complete refusal and tried to change his mind. And had he been wrong neither of them could have taken it.

Secondly, Dick is always left to shoulder the blame of kicking Tim out and of never reaching out. That's bull. And I need to make that clear. Tim was in a delicate point, he tells us this himself multiple times, but the decision to leave was completely made out of his own free will. Another thing he did was put space between him and the people on Gotham. We see only one time in which Dick tries to call him. Tim picks up and tells him he doesn't want to talk. This tells us that Dick respecting Tim's wish of space included almost no (or even no) contact, and Dick calling was not something Tim appreciated or encouraged.

Now. Going into the second year of the run, when he's back in Gotham, there's a few things to talk about and I'm still in the aftermath of Damian and Tim's fight.

I feel it's important to say that even if they are all family, more often than not they're doing their own thing. Like, Babs and Steph are in the Batcave while Dick and Damian are in Wayne Tower, Cass is said to potentially be in Hong Kong and we haven't even heard Jason be name-dropped except for the fact that he went on a rampage at some point.

So, Dick is immediately called away in League business. So he isn't there. Damian is behaving fairly civil besides being a brat, so no one wastes too much effort in correcting what he says. We need to think about the fact that this is a kid whose world was turned upside down multiple times in a short period of time, who has a need to be accepted, and who hasn't yet found his place. All this is to say, that if it's difficult to get him to eat breakfast there's no way they're controlling his every move and that's understandable.

So Dick is away, Damian is still trying to adapt, Alfred has his hands full and everyone else is doing something else.

The whole thing starts because Tim is being kind of cryptic about what he's doing with his hit list and Damian feels left out and goes looking for more. He finds his name in a hidden double side of the hit list marking him as a threat. He understandably feels hurt and angry, because he's a kid, and he's trying, and his predecessor who at this point doesn't even try with him anymore views him as something bad.

So in classic Damian fashion, he falls back on his upbringing and doesn't deal with the situation as one should, talking about it. Instead he cuts team line, hurting before being hurt. It could've been worse, we see in the panel that Tim doesn't have that much of a hard time getting safely to the ground. The problem is that he snaps and starts a full-blown fight he knows Damian won't back out off. (I'm pleased to add that after cutting his line Damian doesn't start anything else)

So they are fighting, Tim has the clear advantage and he knows this, we know this. And that's how Dick finds them. Having just returned from a JL mission, in the place where the Waynes were murdered, with Tim having overpowered Damian.

They go back to the cave and Damian shares his findings, and Dick understands. And Tim tells him he (Dick) knows why he (Tim) did it. Dick agrees, and tells him he should have tried to make it harder to find. Tim says he hadn't thought Damian would try or even care. Dick tells him Damian wants to be accepted.

All in all, so far the only thing this comic has proven to me is that there's a reason comics are the bomb and that fanon has gotten out of hand. I get making things out to be worse for the sake of a story, but everything surrounding these events is basically used as the foundation for Damian and Tim's relationship as well as Dick and Tim's and I don't think I've once read a fanfic where these events are portrayed correctly or even following the real motivations of the characters. This is a disservice to all of them and only serves to amplify the hate towards a character that doesn't deserve it. There's a lot of Damian hate going around. And it sucks. Mostly because people use his actions against Tim to justify it and honestly? I don't think you should be allowed to use that if you haven't read RR and understood what was going on.

[adorkastock]

So I don't know who to ask about this, and since it's your profession, I figured you'd know most! I like to use Magic Poser to help me draw my characters' poses, but I feel like I always wind up altering the proportions to fit the models rather than my style without meaning to just because I'm drawing what I'm looking at. It feels less like looking at a reference and more copying a picture, and it makes me feel really bad, like I'm cheating at art. Do you have any thoughts or word of advice on this? I'd greatly appreciate it. Thanks!

Hey Nonnie! Hmmm there's I feel like kind of two questions here. One, using Magic Poser or any other legit reference to make your art is not cheating. It's just using a tool the way it's meant to be used (as a reference). There's nothing at all wrong with that. ♥ However, if you are getting Not The Results You Want from this process that's another issue entirely. So, two: what do I do if the art I'm making from reference doesn't look like *my* art? If you find that working from a reference is changing your style in ways you don't like, I have suggestions: 1) do a sketch from the reference just like you normally would in whatever style comes out naturally using the reference 2) look at the drawing you did and put the reference away 3) draw another drawing from the drawing you did but try to make adjustments towards the stylization you prefer (your first drawing is your reference for your second) OR, if your brain will do this for you: 3b) after sketching from the reference (maybe a few times for good measure) put the reference away completely and try to draw the pose from memory* and see what happens. If you think you're overly reliant on references to the point you think it's holding you back then you can start to wean yourself off of them but doing more and more drawing without them. Maybe start with a 20min warm-up on my Sketch App drawing a bunch of poses really fast from reference, then pull up a new pose, look at it, and try to draw it without checking back in at all. Honestly the best way to get to a style you like is to just draw A LOT. Draw lots of different ways. Mess around with line weight and shapes. Make things swish, make them pointy, make lines that cross over a lot, make a mess, make it neat, keep going. Do a lot of drawing and investigate what feels and looks right to you. And if a tool isn't serving your goals, you can let it go. It might be hard at first but you will find your way. ♥ * Side note: I have aphantasia which means I don't have head pictures. If I look at a reference and walk into the other room, I am not going to be able to replicated it very well from memory. That being said, if I sketch a pose over and over and over a bunch I will retain it somehow, somewhere (I don't know how brains work). The next time I go to draw that pose it will be easier. Just popping this in here in case you have the same trouble.

[t34-mt]

western region kyhuines remake for myself because i thought they looked bad, tho they finally look good to me now. the only guys with blue-ish gular sack and skin around the face

they originated from western savannah biome but like every other ethnic group they've spread out. for short they'll be called western kyhuine because that's where they're concentrated the most

you can view the old one from 2023 under the cut

may 17th 2023 version ^ , it makes me feel violent

i also tried to redo them in later 2023, though i didn't like it at all either. they're also from a failed ethnicity chart that im not satisfied with anymore, oopsie

females were based on male wood ducks, and males were based on male mandarin ducks. I don't know what was up with me, ducks are the least kyhuine thing ever yet i did it anyway. the current designs used sandgrouse for reference, pin-tailed sandgrouse to be precise, check them out!

kyhuine has heavy pigeon inspiration in them, mainly because we have pigeons lol. sand Grouse and quails are very much "kyhuine coded" in my brain too. but also, prairie chicken! they have the same feather structure on the head, although angled differently, kyhuine "ears" are just feathers if you pluck them off they'll have a smooth head, the ear hole is near the eye.

might delete the post and repost it if i ever make more of those so it can act as an "ethnicity chart post" (you will never see me make a clean ethnicity chart it will only be doodles like this stuck together. when i start making one i lose my mind because a week later i think the proportions look wrong now im babbling

you can have a sneak peak on me doing a southern male render cause the only refs i have of them is from 2023 again, when they were just 2 simple colors, you can see the older version on the right. even tahofahs were so tiny it makes me giggle. trying to have western faces be shorter with salt flat and southern valley (the guy right here) have the typical pointy longer face. and then easterns get the round funny head

ok byebye

[kooqitas]

#pairing: friends-dad!wonwoo x reader.

#genre: smut | #w.c: ~1500

#synopsis: it was just a ride offered by your friend's dad, what could go wrong?

#warnings: semi-public sex (car), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, agegap, spit, humiliation, overstimulation. WITHOUT DADDY KINK, THE NAME WAS JUST A JOKE!

#notes: not proofread, english isn’t my first language! ★ m.list | inbox 

support me on ko-fi if you want, i would be very happy :D

the moment wonwoo's car turned down the street, you regretted accepting that ride.

wonwoo is your friend's father, she's not your best friend, but you've known each other for a few months, you used to go to parties together, and this was the first time you went to her house. she always said that her father wasn't old, but wonwoo is like 15 years older than you? god, how young did he become a father? whatever, you know a hot man when you see one, and of course wonwoo is really hot.

because of the heavy rain, it was impossible to order an uber to your house, so wonwoo offered you a ride since his daughter was going to her boyfriend's house. at first you rejected it, you said you would find a way, but your friend insisted so much that it seemed rude to reject jeon's ride.

as soon as the rain stopped, wonwoo took the car out, you got in the vehicle, buckled your seat belt and regretted it instantly.

wonwoo was stupidly hot and watching him drive was driving you crazy, he smelled so good and his lips were so inviting that you didn't even realize when you started having impure thoughts about the man next to you. your friend's father.

your brain betrayed you, and you started thinking about the thick fingers that were on the steering wheel inside you, slowly opening you up to prepare for his cock. what would wonwoo's cock be like? following the logic of the proportions of his body he would probably be hot... and thick… oh, god!

"what are you thinking?" he asked you.

“w-what?”

“you are cute.” he laughed.

“oh, shut up, i’m not cute, cute is for child, i’m not a child.” you grumbled.

he laughed again, biting his own lips.

“yes, i know very well that you are not a child.”

you gasped. was wonwoo flirting with you? what the hell. no, that’s impossible, you are crazy. definitely crazy. 

“but you know... you can call me 'daddy' if you want too”

“mrs. jeon” your voice was a little shaky.

“no, sweetheart, just wonwoo. unless it's a kink for you…”

“wha- what are you d-”

wonwoo stopped the car, and only then did you realize that he wasn't even following the gps location, you were on a dark street, completely deserted, the raindrops were still falling lightly outside the car, so wonwoo faced you, firmly, making your body shake.

“i'm not gonna do anything you don't want, honey. but don't act like you're not a dirty girl who stared at me lustfully in my own house, don't pretend like you didn't look at my fingers on the steering wheel like you didn't imagine them inside you.” wonwoo said in a scoundrel tone, making you cringe, you no longer knew if it was from humiliation or lust.

“i’m-”

“you? what do you want, baby? will you deny your own desire? or are you gonna assume that you want my cock opening up that pussy, hm?”

“wonwoo…”

“what, kitten? do you want be treated with care? or i can just use you however i want? mistreat you completely, use you for my pleasure?” 

wonwoo's right hand rested on your thigh, looking at you before leaving an unchaste caress there, he laughed when you surrendered, opening your legs in anticipation of him raising his hand a little further, his warm finger in contact with your skin the cold air conditioning makes you horny.

wonwoo took off his seat belt, and slapped his thigh twice, you immediately sat there, without any kind of questioning, he laughed, the mocking laugh making you feel a little humiliated.

"don't you think you're the worst kind of whore? fucking your friend's father? you're so disgusting."

the way he spoke gave you a feeling of heat that you had never felt before, unconsciously you began to roll slowly on his lap. god, fuck any moral ethics, wonwoo was fucking hot and your cunt was starting to get wet.

“that is? does this excite you? knowing that your friend's father is gonna fuck you, will treat you like the disgusting whore you are?”

“y-yes” you moaned.

wonwoo laughed in contempt, clenching your jaw and finally kissing you, his tongue tasted like beer and even though you weren't the biggest fan of the drink you loved it, wonwoo was dominant, he led the kiss the way he wanted, sucking your tongue leaving not so light bites on your lips and it was driving you crazy.

you felt when his firm hands lowered the thin strap of your shirt, exposing your nipples and then he lightly brushed his index finger there, making you tremble in anticipation.

wonwoo continued devouring you with his mouth, the man seemed ready to destroy you with a kiss and if he continued at that pace he would easily succeed, the hot tongue curling with more and more desire in his and the kiss smacks becoming more and more wet in your mouth, his fingers making sloppy movements on your needy nipples.

you felt a hand move down from your nipple to your baggy shorts, and then a finger brushed against your panties, making you moan loudly.

“needy whore!” wonwoo laughed.

wonwoo started kissing and biting your neck, the bites hurt like hell, it would clearly leave a mark, but you were loving it, and the moans and gasps you made made it evident.

"are you gonna tell my daughter who marked that neck? are you gonna tell her that you are a desperate whore who gave your pussy to her father in the car?"

“wonwoo…”

wonwoo placed two fingers inside you, making you scream from the shock of the long fingers entering your cunt, he had no difficulty placing his fingers there, easily reaching your g-spot while still marking your neck voraciously.

"dumb bitch, do anything for cock!"

he added another finger, your eyes rolling back, your body was sweating even with the air conditioning in the car, you didn't care about anything anymore, you just wanted wonwoo inside you. he tore your shorts and laid the seat back a little further, kissing your mouth again.

“i'm gonna to fill this pussy up, you'll go home dripping with my cum like a good toy!”

wonwoo removed his fingers from inside you, putting them in his mouth and sucking out every drop of your liquid, and then removed his belt, lowering his pants and underwear right after.

his purple cock made you salivate, at the same time it scared you, you didn't imagine it would be so fat, it terrified you and made you even more horny, every inch of you would receive wonwoo's dick, he would open you up like no one had ever done before .

"you're gonna take my dick like a good slut, aren't you? i'm gonna be able to spread you wide open and you're gonna thank me, right?"

you nodded, and in the next second, wonwoo was entering you.

at first he was gentle, rubbing sloppy circles on your clit until you got used to his size, but a few minutes later wonwoo was thrusting into you like crazy and moaning like an animal.

"i knew that whore's pussy was gonna open wide for my cock!”

he said as he mistreated your pussy with strong thrusts, you didn't think about anything else, you didn't think about the fact that he was your friend's father, you didn't think about the fact that you were on a deserted street, you couldn't think about anything other than how good it was the feeling of having wonwoo hitting your uterus hard.

he grabbed your waist and made you bounce on him, his firm hand pushing you up and down on his fat cock while your belly tingled.

"god, i’m gonna-"

"cum on my dick, whore, cum because i’m gonna cum inside you, i’m gonna fill that pussy with my sperm."

wonwoo laughed in a machiavellian way, and then spat in your mouth, forcing two fingers down your throat, you accepted them, sucked as if it were wonwoo's own cock while facing him, feeling the lust growing in your belly growing more and more.

when he wiped his fingers of saliva on your hardened nipple, you came, screaming so loud that, even though you were on the deserted street, you were still afraid that other people would hear.

when your body started to shake, wonwoo seemed more motivated to destroy you, and continued thrusting against your pussy.

"my freaky bitch only stops when i decide it's over?" he questions seeing that you just accepted his rough pace. "i like it! my daughter has the best friend in the world!"

wonwoo thrust you a few more times, until he came apart inside you, moaning loudly and throwing his head back, your insides becoming completely sticky with your friend's father's sperm.

you still moved, sensitive from the orgasm, but still rubbing against the cock that wasn't completely softened, you wanted more, he wanted more.

fuck any morals, you needed to enjoy the rest of the night together...

and it was with this in mind that wonwoo searched on the gps where the nearest motel was.

[yanderetheumbrellaacademy]

Five in a time line where reader doesn't know him? Kind of like Klaus and what's his faces relationship???????

YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Haven't written this in ages

He doesn't take it well at all

He's never loved someone the way he loves you, so when he does go into a time line where you've never even met him, he freaks out internally

Though, then he starts to think that maybe this is a good thing

He knows everything about you. Your likes, dislikes, embarrassing memories, insecurities, hobbies, etc [I think you get my point]

^ He can use this knowledge and use it to make himself seem like the perfect guy/boyfriend

While you did like him in his timeline, there were moments where he wasn't the best boyfriend, but now he has a second chance

He'll 'accidentally' run into you and see you holding a book/sketchbook/notebook/journal [Whatever your interest is] and he'll pick it up before being like "Oh, you like ____? I like it, too. I can never find anyone else who likes _____"

He knows you're shy and easily scared/introverted, so he knows this is a hit or miss, but thankfully you take it really well. You were excited someone shared the same interest as you. You start babbling about it, while asking if he wanted to get a drink or food

He's quick to take up the offer. He didn't want to waste a second with you

You do think he moves incredibly fast. You never had a guy like him show such an interest in you, so you're taken aback by his enthusiasm

He doesn't want to scare you, but he can't help himself

He does begin to scare you when you realize he knows everything about you

He doesn't tell you about his powers, until you start to avoid him in fear

You're surprised when he appears in your room, going through your drawers, before tossing you your journal/diary

"You should put a lock on that"

"How- What are you- How did you get into my room?"

He sits on your bed, ignoring you

"Hello? Five?"

He looks at you, holding one of your stuff animals in his hands. If you had known he would sneak in your room, you probably would have hidden that.

"Why have you been avoiding me?"

"What?"

He gets off the bed, stepping closer to you, until your back hits the wall. He throws the stuff animal over his shoulder, before making direct eye contact with you. "Why. Are. You. Avoiding. Me?"

"I-I-I ha-haven't be-been doing that- Avoiding you I mean-" You stutter over your words, causing him to deeply frown

"Don't patronize me. I'm not fucking stupid."

"I've been busy," You quickly lie, mentally applauding yourself for coming up with that so quickly

"Doing what?" Five humored you, deciding he'd try and let you defend yourself. Maybe you weren't avoiding him. Maybe he was being paranoid

"Things?"

He groans, looking away from you, annoyed. Why were you really avoiding him? He thought things were going great? But apparently he was wrong...

What he didn't realize is that he was coming on to strong

There was silence in the room and you were scared, because he still hasn't said anything and he's not looking at you

Finally, after what feels like eternity, he speaks

"Can I tell you something-Well, let me showing something."

You were a little confused, but he pulls you towards the bed and pushes you down. He takes a deep breath, before making direct eye contact with you.

"You can't freak out. Promise me?"

"It can't possibly be that bad-"

"I'm serious. Promise me"

''Fine. I promise."

You think he's over exaggerating and blowing this out of proportion, until he fucking disappears

You look around the room confused and then he suddenly appears behind you, holding a soda. It was the one you had downstairs that you had been waiting all day to drink

"How did you do that???"

"It's complicated," He tells you, rubbing the back of his neck

"That's so cool!"

You ask him to do his talent over and over. At first he was annoyed, but then he realizes that you were probably going to break up with him, but now you were more interested in him than you've ever been

You practically become obsessed with him

He doesn't mind, in fact he finds it hot. His timeline version of you was never obsessed with him. You were just a lovely couple, but this version of you was practically as bad as him and god he loves it so much

He wants to keep you forever

And he will. You're never getting away from him

[catiuskaa]

charcoal, paint, post-its and tape.

SUMMARY: seeing your boyfriend’s messy art studio, you couldn’t help but want to try and surprise him with a painting of the most gorgeous piece of art you knew: him.

REQUESTED! here by my pookie wookie @4ln-stay8, and honey, this was a beautiful idea! i love writing about art and hyunjin and hyunjin and art (and hyunjin) lol, hope you like! <3

CW: hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety, reader is really hard on herself as a perfectionist (which sadly i can relate), crying and cursing, lots of fluffy comfort in the end!

WC: 1.6k

[☆🌷🖼️🌷☆]

You hate it.

Your hand feels cramped, your head hurts and you’re close to breaking the paper if you keep on erasing the same lines over and over again.

But it’s hideous.

It’s a sad excuse of an attempt in art and you hate it.

You were tempted to kick the sketchbook away, but knowing that it belonged to your boyfriend, to hyunjin, who could actually do art, made you refrain from doing so, opting to just harshly shove it away from your lap.

It wasn’t fair. You’d seen tutorials. You had practiced beforehand. You went as far as to use his anatomy books to study it, wanting to be able to do justice to his ethereal, beautiful self by at least getting proportions right.

But no. Art wasn’t accepting your preposterous attempt to join into it.

Hyunjin entered your shared apartment as he hummed a random melody, happy to come back a bit earlier than usual, his head drifting off to how he could surprise you and what kind of activity the both of you could do with the newly-founded time.

But he froze after he kicked his shoes off at the entrance.

“Angel?” He called, and you cursed, but barely had any time to put anything back into place as he followed the sound of your gentle sobs.

“Hyun…” you started.

“My love.” He crouched down next to you, looking at you as if you held the stars and the moon just for him. “Want to tell me what’s wrong? Mhh?” He hummed shortly, his hands traveling to your face and stroking it sweetly.

You stared at him, your heart troubled, so the only coherent response you could come up was throwing yourself to his arms.

The long-haired artist hugged you tightly in response, a part of him appreciating having the type of trust that allowed you to break before him and let him watch you reasemble with a little helping hand.

You sniffed, then shook your head sideways.

“Are we doing the nod and shake?” He smiled in efforts of making you join him, which you did shortly, and he allowed himself to take that as a win. “We can do that, pretty. Nod if you want to.” He snickered.

But you shook your head, staring down at the forgotten sketchbook.

“I-it’s just th-a-at I… I w-wanted… wanted to surprise you… b-because I-I wa-s trying to paint…”

Hyunjin’s face shined upon your confesion.

“My pretty girl was painting?” He chimed back with a gleeful joy. “But you’re not having fun. What happened?”

You just shrugged, sinking your head in your hands. “It’s horrible.”

“Can I see it?”

Watching you nod, it was only then when Hyunjin separated himself from you just enough to grab the sketch, then sprung back to your side.

A silence only broken by your unsteady breathing clouded the house as he viewed the canvas.

“Do you want my opinion, my advice, or my shoulder to keep crying?” He offered soothingly, and you rolled your eyes at his last mention. “What? My shoulders are very comfortable. I don’t even charge if you leave tears on my shirt, you know.” Hyunjin teased with a smile that you were quick to match. Another win for him.

“I just… I don’t know…” you sighed, melting against him. “It’s… ugh.”

He stared at your piece in silence, which you didn’t, only zoned out, playing with your hands as the silence crept up your spine.

What if he hated it too?

“It’s just like how you do with your post-its.”

He interrupted your spiral of thoughts, and you blinked at him, so Hyunjin repeated himself with a gentle smile. You then sniffed, a small chuckle fighting to get out in the midst of frustated tears. “What are you on about?”

“You have your cute organizing board filled with post it notes, don’t you, lovely?”

You nodded, but scoffed, still submerged in the depth of the painting —or rather lack thereof. “What’s that got to do with anyth-“

You trailed off when his hands, still a bit colder from the weather outside, cradled your face, forcing you to look at him, a beautiful sight you didn’t notice you were evading.

“Listen to me for a second. Please?” He pleaded, eyes soft, and giggled sweetly when you pouted, a petty way of letting him know you were listening. You blushed when he kissed you.

“So. Your post it notes.” Hyunjin smiled. “You stick them on the board, but often, they slip down, right?” He asked, to which you nodded. “And when that happens, I noticed your little trick, brains.” He booped your nose, and you couldn’t help but smile coyly. “Tell me, beauty. What do you do when they don’t stick?”

“I… I put a small piece of tape on the back.” “And it works like magic,” he grinned, beaming in a kind of proudness you had never seen on anyone, not when it came from others aside from themselves. And it mended your frustrated heart to see him like this, his now warmer hands stroking your cheeks.

He took one of your hands, and with a strained groan, reached to his pencil cade, grabbed a piece of charcoal and stained your hand with it, kissing your palm sweetly

“These are now the hands of an artist. And artists, just like you and me, can be quite like those little post it notes of yours. We bend right after taking us out of the package.” He chuckled, and you followed along, letting the sound of his voice lift your spirit. “It won’t matter how, there can always be a crease, or the glue won’t stick right, or the color is too blinding, maybe too dull, perhaps the paper got stained with paint or ink.” He stared at you, deeply so, allowing you to see through him, allowing you to understand.

This wasn’t about post it notes. Not anymore.

He continued. “But, just as your post its, sometimes…” he smiled. “Sometimes all we need is a bit of tape to stick in place.”

He kissed your tears away one by one, allowing your breathing to even out, matching and following his as you relaxed against him.

“Let me help you stick back on the board.” He looked at your lips in a flash, then bashfully went back to your eyes. “Let me be your tape.”

He hugged you tightly, and he showed you the sketch.

“To me it looks fine, beauty.” He started. “It’s a really nice attempt. Would I redo some things? Probably, if I wanted to be really perfectionist, because it doesn’t look bad at all. Or maybe I’d let the color do its magic.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “The thing about drawing is that we cannot let it control us, hoping to achieve perfection. That can’t be achieved, my love.” Hyunjin laughed. “Even what we see sometimes doesn’t look right in real life. There are references and references, and if a drawing’s sketch isn’t quite what we’re looking, sometimes we may need another one.”

You stared at him softly, comforted in his honest commentary.

“I can help you. You know were to find me.” He smiled sweetly.

“I…” you sniffed, staring at your charcoal-stained hand.

“I just want a coffee right now.”

You both giggled as you stood back up, and he engulfed you in a bear hug, picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen, determined to make you the best coffe in the whole year.

It wasn’t until the next morning that you found him puting your first sketch next to his. Only this time, instead of his usual messy tape lines, yours han bits of tape glued to the back.

Little by little, charcoal and paint helped post-its and tape, but even with the smallest things, it could certainly be the other way around.

And Hyunjin loved it any kind of way— Hyunjin loved you, post-its, charcoal stains and all.

[☆🌷🖼️🌷☆]

catiuskaa, may 2024 ©

~kats, who will now go to bed with my own cup of hot milk (not coffee lol, and sadly not made by hyunjin either)

[tesalicious2]

Why you don't prank the Guard commanders

Since they are almost constantly tired and at the end of their rope, anything could set them over the edge and no one wants that

not only that but they will usually react very strongly because of their extenuating circumstances and it is often blown out of proportions

HOWEVER, the other battalions don't know that and just want to help their brothers have fun! what's wrong with that

THIRE:

Thire got off a three day mission with General Yoda that ends up with Thire covered in some giant monsters stomach fluids and snot

He had to sit in it for a ten hour ride back and is humilated, with Yoda attempting to comfort him which only makes it worse

On his way back to the HQ, some troopers from the 104th decided to hit a guard with fake slime, a funny little prank

When Thire is at the end of his rope, he goes for violence

Thire waltzes into the mess, calls out whoever pranked him, and proceeded to dress them down, chew them up, and spit them out in front of everyone in the entire mess (made up of a few battalions and some Padawan Commanders)

It boiled down to 'you morons, i will kill you, you tiny roaches are nothing to me and i will throw you in the trash compactor like the disgusting garbage you are' with much more colorful and degrading language thrown in

Many now fear Thire and Wolffe outright refuses to work with the man out of fear

STONE:

Stone had just stopped three prison riots, captured two escapees from said riots, updated the entire security system, and hadn't slept because of the previous items for four days

Some men from Kit Fisto's SCUBA battalion thought it would be funny to hide some of Stone's stuff that was in his office (ie, datapads, pens, etc) and moved his stuff three inches to any side

Stone, who usually just jumped onto the coach in his office with the lights off, missed the middle and went to far up and smacked his nose on the wooden arm of the couch and cracked a tooth

This was not a fun way to cap the last four days

He found the troopers and filled their SCUBA tubes with spiders for them to find when they shipped out. Too bad the spiders crawled onto their faces on the ship and not in the water :(

THORN:

Thorn had been assissting senators for three full days with only 5 hours of sleep while standing throughout meetings

He had been ready to sleep and was heading to his last meeting with General Kenobi and some of his troopers present

Wooley and Longshot decided to lighten the mood by setting their voice coders to a different language and telling him he was going crazy

They also removed the nonslip pads from the couch and it slid out from underneath him

This may not have been bad at all but after three days, every little thing is annoying as shit and exhausting

After that meeting, Thorn decides to take revenge

Thorn is a believer in you get what you give so he does something harmless

relatively harmless

He sneaks onto the 212th barracks on the ship and places a speaker into the vents of the barracks, above Wooley and Longshots bunks (as close as he could get, the sound reverbs so everyone is pretty mad about this prank)

Every so often, in random intervals (no more than 4 hours, no less than 1 hours) a beep would sound, not too loud but loud enough to be annoying after 2 days

At night, it gets louder and more frequent and quieter during the day

Many troopers lose sleep over finding the thing (Thorn literally unscrewed wall panels to hide it), its been 3 weeks and they arrive at their new battle field in a week

Four days before their arrival, as the speaker is about to die, in the middle of the night, the speaker goes to full volume and shouts 'THIS IS COMMANDER THORN. I MAY BE THE CAUSE OF YOUR SLEEPLESSNESS BUT LONGSHOT AND WOOLEY STARTED THIS. I WILL DO IT AGAIN ASSHOLES. THE SPEAKER IS GOING TO DIE SO ENJOY YOUR *TEMPORARY* FREEDOM. HAHHAHAHAHAH-' and then the speaker dies (Thorn hacked the cameras and enjoys playing the screaming arguments and shouts at the speaker during rough days)

Longshot and Wooley never hear the end of it

FOX:

Fox had been going through hell the entire week and he was ready to kill someone, even though his shift wasn't over yet.

Jesse, Fives, and Hardcase had decided to help Fox lighten up by shooting him with silly string throughout the day, switching armor with blank armor to keep hidden

Fox was paranoid and had to be sedated. He eventually tracked down the three and had his revenge not through their own annoyance

At first, he replaced their weapons with modified silly guns that quickly ended, leading them to believe they were free (the whole revenge lasted an hour ish as the three enjoyed playing with the silly string)

Unknown to them, Rex's entire room had been filled with silly string, his blasters, the padding in his matress, the drawers in his dress, the hair wash was liquid silly string, the soap was frozen strong, his pillow, his chair was broken then 'welded' back together with silly string and fell apart when he sat on it, etc.

He kept finding it and it lasted for days, the moment he thought it was over, more string came up. He was paranoid, everything was silly string

When he finally complained to the command chat, Fox told him that Jesse, Hardcase, and Fives caused it and that he overheard them planning it

When Rex punished them, they said they never did anything with silly string but many others saw them spraying each other with the silly string FOX pranked them with so everyone assumed they were messing with the leftovers from Rex's prank. Not only that but they weren't quiet about pranking Fox so everyone thought he was the warm up for Rex.

No matter what they said, Rex didn't believe a word and they were stuck on latrine duty for a whole month

When Rex found out about Fox getting pranked as well, Rex let them get punished by him too

Fox made them clean out all the massiff kennels and play areas, cleaning any stains from the puppies and getting used for bite practice by the adults everyday for their next leave.

Fox came by and watched them everyday, laughing at their misery

HOUND:

Hound loves pranks and jokes and will happily engage and laugh at them

however, the timing has to be right and most don't get that part (only the other ARF troopers know)

Some troopers from the 41st took his bed sheets and pillows and blankets and towels after some of his troopers and Hound ended a four hour chase through the sewers (they didn't know about the chase).

Hound normally would've thought this was hilarious but after spending two hours covered in sewage looking for towels around HQ just to shower, he was pretty mad

After cleaning up and ready for bed, he snuck into the 41st barracks and woke them up with a growling, snarling grizzer leaning over their face and a hand over their mouth.

He whispered, 'don't scream, you touch my shit again, I will end you and everyone you love.'

Rinse and repeat then he sneaks away

[heph]

TLDR: Got any drawing exercises to recommend?

I’m in loooove with the way you use lines, shapes and colors/shading to show form in your art. The way you draw bodies shows a lot of understanding of the shapes that go into them, and that’s something I often personally struggle with. I’m familiar with the shapes of a face, but when it comes to connecting them to the shapes of the body and so on, I get frustrated that it’s jumbled instead of cohesive.

I was wondering, when you’re looking to practice, whether that’s anatomy, line-making, still life shapes or whatever, do you have any exercises you’ve done and would be willing to share? I’ve been trying to crawl out of the no-art-depression-hole for a bit and want to start with things that don’t take much willpower but help me improve

I might be the worst person to ask this! My relationship with art is not typical and I do not practice mindfully! (I just draw whatever I want and that's my practice, y'know?

Anyways, here's my progress of how I learnt to draw :3

Step 1 is proportions - breaking up the human body into manageable blocks and pieces. And step 2 is learning the muscles that build up the body, and from there you can simplify as needed... Or do that thing anime art kids do and skip directly to the simplified bit! (You probably shouldn't do that but if it's a hobby who cares!)

For specific tutorials, I find that proko is probably the best mix of entertaining/educational content you can find, but aside from that I watch a lot of speedpaints.

As a sort of get rich quick scheme, I think the absolute easiest way to get stupidly good at art is studying perspective - but you at least need a basic understanding of proportions and anatomy before you can draw someone in a funky perspective.

Everything in life is in perspective, and every piece of work you will ever make will have perspective in it. Perspective is sort of like an all-encompassing thing in our reality that you don't realise is there, and maybe even not realise is missing in your work (just that something feels... Wrong) AND LIKE NOBODY EVER TALKS ABOUT IT! WHAT THE FLIP!!!

I don't really have a specific source for learning perspective, because I've been on-and-off trying to wrap my head around it for a few years (I'm still awful at it but I'm getting there...!) here's a video!

I do think that drawing with progression in mind might help, but I think with art (as a hobby) the most important thing is probably love for a special guy and joy of creation. You have to love what you're drawing and the simple act of creating, or it just won't work out. If you're in a depression hole maybe just try creating for the sake of it, and don't give yourself too many expectations :)