#holy shit how do you shade clothing folds

[adr-n-sketchy]

Huntlow x Spirited Away au brought to you by @rileyclaw’s Stray Italian Greyhound Huntlow animatic that must be watched at least 3x a day

Please reblog don't repost

[fourmoony]

going lingerie shopping w JAMESSSSS

ty for requesting! f!reader, 1.2k, mdni

cw: suggestive, mdni

James can hear you shuffling around in the changing room, the clinking of hangers and your clothes landing in a pile on the carpeted floor. He'd thought you were teasing when you dragged him into the shop with you, cheeks rosy and your smile all knowing. But here he is, waiting for you to show him your top three picks of what he thinks are, essentially, scraps of lace. And you're expecting him to pick a favourite?

James thinks you look good in anything. Truly, you're the most beautiful woman he's ever met in his entire life. He questions himself daily on how he ever managed to secure you as his girlfriend. Not only are you stunning, but you're entirely too smart for him, and you have a brilliant, loving heart. You're everything James has ever dreamed of and he simply cannot believe his luck.

Especially when the dressing room door peaks open and he catches sight of the baby pink lace wrapped beautifully around your waist. Your eyes flick along either end of the hallway before stepping out fully and when you do, James' heart almost flatlines.

The intricate lace hugs your hips in a baby pink coloured dream, and when you spin, the lace dips into a thong. You look at James expectantly, but his eyes snag on the bra, pure lace that shows the darkness of your nipples and his mouth waters. "Holy shit." He lets out.

James isn't too ashamed to admit that the sight of you gets him going. The colour makes your skin look so smooth, matches perfectly with the tone, makes you look positively radiant. Your tits lift perfectly in the bra, sitting perky and James wishes that public fornication wasn't illegal because he has ideas.

"You like it?" You sound sheepish, cheeks a lovely shade of pink that compliments the lace adorning you.

You look the picture of innocence. James wants to ruin it.

"Like isn't a strong enough word, angel."

You laugh, "Okay, hot shot, keep it in your pants. Still two more to go." You tell James as you step back into the changing room and close the door.

"Why can't we just buy all of them? I mean asking me to pick a favourite is cruel." James speaks to the closed door, and he can imagine the amused smile you're giving him, the way you're probably naked and grinning and it's all getting a bit much for him.

"Because," You huff, the sound of a hanger clinking as you take the next set from it, "They're like super expensive. It's a nice little treat, but three is far too many."

James scoffs, folds his arms over his chest. You've spoken a little about James' family, their dynasty in the pharmaceutical industry. But he has a suspicion you live in denial of just how rich he actually is. "I'll buy you all three, baby. You deserve to be spoiled."

He doesn't have to see you to know you're rolling your eyes, ever the one to detest any sort of money being spent on you. You hardly allow James to pay for dinner, even when he asks you on the date.

The door swings open to reveal an emerald green set, this time. You're scowling at his suggestion, still, but you look no less beautiful. This time, there's no lace. Only string, with a scrap of silk to cover your modesty. The bra is made of silk, too. Your nipples press against the shiny material and James realises he really has to get a grip of himself. He gulps and the scowl lifts from your face.

"So the lace wasn't your thing?" You ask, lips tilting up.

James takes an involuntary step forwards, as though if he doesn't get his hands on you soon, he might very well die. "The lace was very much my thing. But this," His fingers twitch, eyes darkening, and James doesn't miss the tiny inhale from your parted lips, the way your eyes glaze over, "Baby, you're so fucking beautiful."

Your smile is saccharine like sticky honey, manicured fingers reaching forwards until they're brushing against James' forearms. His eyes shutter closed at the touch, a man gone mad, driven mad by his beautiful, sexy girlfriend in what he can only describe as the most pleasing lingerie set he's ever seen. "Thanks, Jamie." You whisper, and then you're gone.

James opens his eyes in time to see the round of your ass before the dressing room door slams shut, the sliver of emerald green string that disappears between your perfectly rounded cheeks. He has to stuff a fist in his mouth to stop from groaning loud enough for the entire shopping centre to hear.

The energy shifts, you're not joking or playful anymore, and James can tell you've worked yourself up in your endeavour to tease him. He thinks it serves you right. When the door opens for the third time, James can't breathe. This set is red, has thigh garters and a belt made of the most delicate, sensual mix of lace and silk James could ever imagine. The bra has underwire to support, but is fully lace where it covers next to nothing, and the underwear is so sheer, so small and barely covering you, that James bets all he'd have to do would be to blow hot air against it to have you writhing.

James is so hard he can't think straight. You look sinful, beautiful. He wants to rip the godforsaken lingerie off and simultaneously take his time, enjoy it. Your coy smile lets him know you're aware of his dilemma.

"What do you think, handsome? What ones your favourite?" You ask, leaning against the door jam of the changing room.

Your eyes have a shine to them. One that tells James you're as worked up as he is, that you're enjoying every minute of this like he is. He smiles, allows himself to get close to you in a serious exercise of restraint, and reaches out until your warm skin meets the palm of his hands. Your eyes flutter closed, your body relaxing at the touch. James palms at the skin of your waist, runs a gentle finger from the belt to the thigh garter and watches as your breaths shallow, as your lips quiver.

He bends, all the way until he's right by your ear, the smell of your perfume sweet in his nose, "I think you're gonna go get dressed, and then you're gonna let me buy you all three of these," He pings at the elasticated string of the red thong, marvels at the way you whimper, "And then we're gonna go home and make good use of them."

James dares his fingers to ghost along the lining of your panties, marvels when he gets low enough for you to have to grip onto him for support and finds you soaked. "Sound good, baby?" He asks, pulling away entirely.

Your body jolts at the loss of him, your eyes unfocussed and breaths shallow. "Yes." You manage to get out.

The changing room door slams shut behind you, and for the first time since James has ever known you, you manage to get changed in under a minute.

It's not until later, when there are scraps of emerald and baby pink lace and silk littered across James' bedroom, when you're curled into his side, sleepy and clad in red lace, that you admit to him you'd had every intention of buying all three sets. That the store doesn't allow try-on if you're not going to buy them. James can't bring himself to care.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

spider-man!ethan hc!!!

ethan landry masterlist

- when he first came to your place fucking wrecked (bleeding from a bunch of cuts. suit ripped in so many places. black eye forming) you had two reactions. 1. panicked 2. wanting to throw up. we are not medical professionals in this house hold, hell no.

“y/n, it’s- it’s okay.” ethan’s voice weak and his body folding over. “ethan it’s not fucking okay! you need a hospital!” “no! no hospital. just- just get a first aid kit.” “i don’t even think we own one and i’m not a fucking doctor. i’m not doing any stitches, you’re gonna suck it up and do them yourself.” and you left your room looking around your apartment for any type of medical supplies.

- ethan either is constantly talking, throwing jokes at the bad guys. it’s mostly when he’s in a good mood or blabbering as his own distraction when fighting. but when he’s really pissed off (like if someone hurts you🫣) he goes silent and doesn’t hold back his strength (well more like he’s doing 85% than his usual…45%?)

- his first year of being spider-man (complete suit and alias recognized by the public) he was dealing with some purse snatchers on 11th and franklin (i’m not from NY leave me alone!!!!) so when he webbed them up and handed the bag back to the single mother he turned on his heel, ready to swing away, but his eyes found you in the dissipating crowd. mouth lightly parted, a slight breeze playing with your hair as you held the straps of your school bag. (he fell in love again and you kinda grew an interest in this bug hero)

- ethan’s really sweet to kids when they come up to him as he’s spider-man (you know that AG SM bts where he’s playing basketball with some kids?? ethan would do something like that)

“mr. spider-man?” ethan turned at the little voice and crouched to be eye to mask level with the adorable little boy and girl duo. “what can i do for the both of you?” the little girl had glossy eyes and the boy was holding her hand, “we got lost on the way to the library. our mom said to go there after school so she can take us home. can you take us? i’m the big brother, i’m supposed to keep us safe.” ethan smiled brightly under his mask, eyes barely squinting from the action. “and you did the right thing to come to me for help. i can carry the both of you to the library, that okay?” the boy beamed and the girl perked up, tears no longer staining her round brown eyes. so ethan scooped the both of them like nothing and walked the two blocks to the library making simple conversation.

- okay so after you guys start dating (go read A Spiders Bite, same world) nothing changed too much from your previous dynamic. just a few things were new and something to get used to doing (kissing, hand holding, touching both intimately and lingering, going on explicitly stated dates, stealing ethan’s clothes, sometimes wearing the suit and getting…frisky with each other) but honestly with how much you wanted each other, you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself

“i think i’m gonna barf,” mindy commented to tara. the two of them were walking through the campus and then tara started to smack mindy’s shoulder repeatedly then pointed at the green grass and to a big oak tree keeping the summer shade away. mindy was about to ask what was so interesting about a gross couple sucking face with the girl sitting in the boys lap when tara almost screamed, “it’s fucking ethan and y/n! holy shit!” neither of you told your friends about your relationship yet. the group chat was a fucking town hall meeting with the spam texts.

- you buy a bunch of spider-man themed items. shirts, toys, plushies, cards, makeup collabs, even bandaids!

“i think you’re my stalker at this point,” ethan joked when he walked into your room one day and noticed the new spider-man blanket and pillow set. “didn’t know you wanted to sleep with spider-man this much, almost starting to feel like the other woman when i’m the boyfriend….AND HE’S ME!!!”

- okay, so let’s say the symbiote came down to earth and ethan’s dealing with evil scientists where they are studying the substance and it attaches itself to ethan. so we know it changes the host personality (SM3 nightmare) so ethan’s personality would definitely be a bit like his ghostface reveal (too cocky and for sure an asshole for no reason. and it hurts you cause where did your sweet and awkward boyfriend go?)

“ethan, what’s up with you? what’s this new…personality?” ambushing him at his house, needing to get to the bottom of this. ethan laid on his bed scrolling through his phone and ignoring you. “ethan, stop being a fucking asshole. this isn’t you.” “well maybe this is the new me so get used to it sweetheart.” and he said the usually loving pet name with such a douche bag tone it made your blood boil. “fine. don’t fucking talk to me until you get your shit together. i don’t want to see or hear from you, landry.” and you slammed his door on the way out, tears stinging your eyes.

- okay, leaving emo ethan alone for now. back to sunshine ethan! ethan still has trouble sticking up for himself so you’re his protector, just like you said in 7th grade. (he asked for no pickles. a 6’2 muscled boy standing behind you trying to make himself smaller)

“damn…” ethan muttered as he inspected his food. “what?” you asked around the fry in your mouth. “uh, nothing. just didn’t cook my burger right. it’s- it’s fine. no- no, y/n-“ “excuse me, sorry,” you flagged down your waitress and politely ask if they could remake ethan’s burger. and when you looked back to ethan his cheeks were turning red with embarrassment and you were about to apologize if that bothered him, but he just set a hand over yours and said “thank you. wouldn’t have enjoyed my food as much.”

- chad is a spider-man FANBOY AND HE WILL DENY IT BUT ITS TRUE. and it makes ethan flustered.

“chad just say you want to date spider-man.” mindy teased her twin. you were sat beside ethan at the table and noted how his eyes widened at her comment. you couldn’t help your quiet chuckle while chad tried to defend himself. “fuck off, mindy. he just seems like a cool dude. saving the city, friendly with the civilians, probably could bench press a car, bet he gets all the ladies-“ “okay, okay chad. stop talking about your crush.” and ethan’s ears turned red. you leaned into his side and whispered in his ear, “chad is your hall pass if you want.” and ethan fully wanted to die.

- okay another symbiote moment. so in the Spectacular SM peter becomes the host for the goo and there’s a fight with him and the sinister six, but then we find out he was asleep and the symbiote was using him like a puppet. so same thing with ethan. he’s asleep at your house him the big spoon you the little spoon (he likes being little spoon when he’s had a ROUGH day) so you wake up sometime in the night and when you look at the time it shows 3:38am and ethan is not beside you. so you look around the place and he’s nowhere, it makes you worry and angry. he’s never left this late at night, he’s usually always beside you the next morning. so when he is back in bed later that morning you question him.

“ethan where were you?” voice scratching from just waking up. you turned over in your messy bed to face ethan’s sleep puffy face. he groaned and his brows scrunched, “what are you talking about?” voice thick and deep, and usually that’d make you smother ethan in kisses, but you reworded your question. “last night. you disappeared around 3:40, where’d you go?” hoping it wasn’t the answer you were conjuring up. he inhaled deeply, “i didn’t go anywhere. was here the whole night.” “okay, now your just gaslighting me. why? with some side chick who’s got the hots for spider-man?” (possible black cat mention🤔) ethan couldn’t help the huffed laugh and that made you frown further, “i’m serious ethan. were you with some other girl?” and that fully woke ethan up, “no! no, sweetheart i swear i didn’t go anywhere. i mean, maybe i had a sleep walking moment, but i swear i wouldn’t purposely leave you at night.” his eyes a panic as he reached his hands to your waist and pulled you closer. you weren’t sure if you fully believed him, but you knew with certainty by his voice that he wasn’t cheating on you. “you know, i had the weirdness dream.” “what kind of dream?” “i was in central park at night and i’m dressed in a black spider-man suit fighting off doc ock, electro, scorpion, and sandman. really fucking weird.” and when you checked your phone later that day to see video footage from last night showing the exact description ethan gave you, you knew something was wrong.

- okay okay, i need more fluff to balance this growing angst. for halloween the both of you did a couples costume of han solo and princess leia (god i’m so fucking lonely😭)

“should of done luke instead,” mindy randomly commented. you replied, “you do know luke and leia are siblings, right?” she shrugged her shoulders, “seems more like luke than a han.” ethan couldn’t help butting in now, “what’s that mean?” “i think you know, chanel boots.” and walked away leaving the two of you speechless.

- you want to adopt a puppy, ethan wants a cat. so you get a potted plant. it dies after a week. “we’re not gonna be good parents” ethan said seriously while you couldn’t help chuckling behind your hand.

- okay i gotta bring up the upside down kiss, COME ON!!!! so your walking down the alleyway of your apartment dropping off your trash (idk something for you to be in alley) and your kinda distracted until a web shoots at your shirt and gives a tug.

“ethan! i really like this shirt,” you whined while pulling at the sticking substance. he tugged you closer and his boyish giggles sang into your ears, “sorry, sorry. you were a bit zoned out, didn’t want to spook you.” “and this was better?” “…eh” you walk closer to there he’s hangin from a web upside down, “really embracing the spider, spider-man.” teasing how his feet sat on the webbing as he held tightly, “aren’t you gonna get light headed?” “no, doesn’t affect me anymore” “lucky bastard” he chuckled some more and you walked closer to be face to face. he was a bit lower, big eyes sitting near your chin. you raised your hands to hold the sides of his face feeling the raised bits of fabric on his mask. “you know, i’ve always wanted to kiss a superhero. kinda a wild fantasy that was hard to fulfill.” voice dropping to a seductive coo with your thumbs tracing over his masked cheeks. ethan was quiet and then, “well, what kind of hero would i be if i didn’t help a beautiful civilian?” his voice also lowered and the masked covered up any signs of red blooming atop his skin. “can i pull your mask up, spider-man?” (y’all be KINKY!!!!) “just over the nose, gotta keep my identity.” you bit into your bottom lip while smiling, “of course.” your fingers slipped below the seam of his mask and teasingly rolled it until only his chin, parted mouth, and tip of his nose were visible. “you have lovely lips.” something you say all the time to ethan. his upside down mouth smiled, “and they are pretty lonely. so if you could plant one on me sweetheart, i’d really appreciate that.” and who were you to deny the friendly neighborhood spider-man of such a request? it was definitely a bit weird with the new angle, but the two of you simple feel into your usual rhythm. (i don’t feel like describing it, i’m sorry) when you pulled away first slowly you kept your eyes closed, letting the lingering tingle wash over you. finally when you opened them and look at ethan he fully said, “that was hot. we gotta do that more often.” and you fully agree.

[iiovenotes]

Wednesdays are for...

jungkook + overstimulation??

notes: I don't know how to properly label this kink but its heavily inspired by seven bc like hello?? also my own kink is showing??? I just love the idea of losing your shit lol. anyways, this is my take of how I feel it would go down.

"Fuck, you're s-so pretty like this, bun." You whined.

God, he had no idea how sexy he looked tonight. Dressed in baggy jeans, a white tank, and a baby blue zip up. So simple but god did it make you drool. It was enough to dump the remaining clothes you were suppose to fold straight into the closet (Why did you just-woah, wait wh-hmph!).

Now, your incredibly sexy and whiny boyfriend lays on the wrinkled sheets. Hands traveling to your hips or gripping onto the pillows by his head. His face scrunched up in frustration.

"Uh, puh-princess! Oh fuck, please!" Jungkook pouts but you ignore his pleas, instead, your hips rock faster.

Your initials upon the chain he wears, glimmers in the soft, warm glow of the fairy lights, laying perfectly on his collarbones. Love bites decorate his vast chest in shades of purples and reds. Glancing lower, you curse when you see just how much pre-cum pools beneath the angry red cock. The room is filled with the squelches your cunt makes as it slides along Jungkook's length laying on his abs. The change of pace only makes him plead louder, his grip tightens on the pillows he desperately hopes can ground him to reality. But he knows nothing will help him. Not when he feels like he's being punished for something he has no clue of.

"S-uhhh s-so mean tuh-to me." God what a brat. "Princess, please i-i don't wanna cuh-cum like this. Oh please!"

And you might just give in. You might not. Jungkook sounds too pretty, begging for you, for your cunt to swallow his cock whole. But now, he knows. Now, he understands how it feels when the teasing gets too much.

That's all he's been doing since the week started. Constant foreplay, round after round, him ignoring your every plea to keep going, to stop, to go harder, faster. Jungkook just chuckles and continues to do every opposite you cry for.

Now, it's him that's sobbing. But...

"Yeah? You wanna fill up my cunt, bun?" He sobs again. A breathless please drifts to your ears. You sigh.

"You better guh-give m-me everything th-then." Guiding his throbbing cock, you finally sink down. Fuck it feels so good.

(Oh jesus fu-, y-y/n! Uhhh, guh-gonna, holy shit, I-)

"What a pretty face." You feel enchanted seeing Jungkook come undone just by filling your pussy up with his dick. You can feel the stupid amount of cum he just squirted slipping past your entrance and down his balls.

It was only Wednesday, and the night was still very, very young. You just hope he doesn't pass out as you begin to rock your hips again. Jungkook can only cry out in response.

[chaosandthe-deadblog]

Sunny's unnofficial rendering tutorial because idk why but people say they like how I color

Hey kid. So you got your drawing, right? And you have your flat colors, now you gotta render 'em, right? Then you find that BAM, you have no idea how to make it look cool? Neither do I! But here's what I do (I've been told that my coloring is cool)

1. Place your flat colors

Imagine these are your flats. A few things: you want your base colors to be all around the same hue, that way they look better together. See how all the blacks, greys and whites are purple/blue-ish? That's on purpose babey! But how do you acheive this? idfk. jk, you have to stay on one (or two) areas of a hue wheel.

This way, all the colors look like, nicer around each other. You're not FORBIDDEN from going outside an area you picked, but you should still try to make sure everything is in the same hue so you have to do less overlay layers later.

(FYI: I do this because it saves me time on rendering. I don't think it's mandatory, there's no rules to art. Go crazy!)

2. Shading

I think shading makes or breaks a drawing. Personally I don't have a lot of rules about it, but there are still tips I can give.

So here's what you gonna do. You're gonna pick a color that's somewhere on the opposite of your main hue, alright? Here, my hue is mostly cold colors, so I'm going to pick a warm tone. You're gonna make sure it's dark enough so it's like, a shade, but not enough so it becomes black when you set the shading layer to multiply.

(Note: I never get this right on the first try)

(Another note: as you can see, I have the entire drawing, including the lines, inside a group. Don't worry! I'll explain this later)

Personally I like to use a paintbrush-esque brush because I like the look of it being hand-painted that it gives my art. Mine is the default paint tool sai brush, but I'll leave the settings down here just in case.

I don't. Really know how to explain the way I shade, I mostly follow the lines I already placed in the lineart phase, and give them depth. I guess my biggest tip would be to FOLLOW THE CLOTHING FOLDS!!!

Idk how to explain this. But people always tell me that they like how I shade the clothes, it's because I follow the fold lines I place on the lineart phase! Not only does this give the clothes depth, it also makes shading a lot easier. Follow your lineart, idk what else to tell ya.

Now you're gonna set the layer to multiply...

And lower the opacity as much as you want until it looks good. No real rules to this, it's kind of depending on the vibe you want your piece to have.

Now, and stay with me here, grab a blending tool, okay? This is the one I use, I have a textured version for when I'm feeling brave, and a regular, flat version (the one I use the most) Here I'll use the flat version.

And. Stay with me here. I want you to blend the FUCK out of this. Just absolutely destroy those borders. Okay? Trust me. If it looks messy you're doing it right. You're gonna want to follow the shape of the shadows tho, this way you don't lose the shape of the objects you're shading.

Woah! Suddenly everything has depth! Let me go back to the clothing folds, because holy shit, the clothing folds.

See how I'm adding depth to the shadows I placed by kinda. Following the line I drew and blending the outside? Idk how to explain this. You blend whatever isn't touching the line, okay? Trust me.

3. Lighting

Ok. I'm holding your hand gently. You have to do lighting on your art, okay? You have to. It adds depth to the shapes and also is sososoososo easy. Here's how. It's so easy.

Grab your airbrush tool. Yes, that one. Hear me out okay?

Pick a light, warm color between yellow and orange.

Stay with me. Make a new layer, set it to whatever lighting mode you prefer. I use luminosity because I live dangerously.

Now.

Airbrush everything that the shadows aren't touching. Yes. I'm serious.

It's gonna look ugly as shit. DON'T BE ALARMED. This is part of the process. I want you to take the blur tool. And blur the ever loving fuck out of this. Just go fucking ham.

Good. You're doing so well. You're being so brave. Now lower the opacity as much as you want, until you like the way it looks.

Like so. I also like to add a few brush strokes and blend them on an up-and-down motion for the hair and certain details, but this is optional. Same as before, you're gonna take a (slightly warmer, but still bright color) and make a new layer on luminosity mode.

Take the blending tool and make it small, only slightly bigger than the brush strokes, and blend these lines until they look nice. Adjust the opacity, and voila!

Now, I could stop here. But I'm extra so I keep going.

4. The pizzazz

AKA, "Ah fuck the colors don't look the way I wanted them to!"

Do not worry! I have a solution that's almost never failed me.

Overlays. Just a whole fuckton of them. I don't really have a method to this, I just kinda try colors and layer modes until something looks good.

For this one, I felt like I wanted the colors to be warmer, so I picked a warm color and overlayed it on multiply. Then, I noticed that the darker colors came out darker than planned, and you couldn't really tell them apart, so I picked a light warm color and overlayed it on screen.

Voila! We're not done! There's one more thing I like to do, and here's where the layer folder comes in!

Remember how I said I keep everything, including the lines in a folder? This is why!

Make a layer that's on top of everything, like this. Pick whatever color you want, make sure it's bright. (Personally I like using pink). Take the airbrush tool again and airbrush whatever edges you want to give a little more pizzazz to.

Blur it as much as you'd like...

And adjust the opacity and layer mode however you like!

5. And done!

Sometimes I add white highlights. Sometimes I add more shading, or more lighting. It depends! But this is the method I use in a nutshell.

Hope you enjoyed it, or at the very least realized idk what the fuck I'm doing!

[lonelysheepling]

Advice for artists and non-artists but mainly just artists

You know how you do a thing for so long that it’s becomes super mundane and insignificant to you, like when you’re sewing something you just do a basic stitch and struggle to tie a standard knot at the end. But you don’t do this often enough for it to stand out to you. You’re an artist, hey maybe even a professional one, and you’ve been doing your art a certain way for a long time. You use pose references and look up environment pictures to reference. But you still draw shoes without a reference or you draw clothes without any detailed folds.

At various points in my art journey I tried using tutorials, resources, and step by step guides for drawing certain things, be that nature brushes, drawing noses front-on, etc. and my skills at the time were kinda basic so I could never really pull off the tutorials in a way that satisfied me. I then went years just improving on broad areas like perspective and posing, focusing more on the overall composition than the minor details. But one day, years later, I got bored and decided to look up how to draw clothing folds

On the left of the green line is some previous work, on the right was two pieces I drew after I heavily referenced cloth physics

Ignore the shading, lighting, colors, etc. the stuff on the right definitely has way better flow than the stuff on the left. Now it wasn’t like a “wow I used a reference and now I’m a master” situation, there was an adjustment period with some less than stellar examples

But when I created those first 2 folds it was like a fucking switch was flicked in my head and I’ve been improving ever since. I am immensely grateful that I just happened to go looking for reference photos because holy shit something as simple as improving my clothing folds massively boosted my confidence in my work. Something I’ve noticed after I followed tutorials is that during the adjustment period, while the first couple of pieces are very reminiscent of the source tutorial, they start to get a little too far off and I stop referencing the tutorial and start doing my own thing (for better or for worse), but there’s then a period afterwards where I go back (maybe after re-watching the original tutorial) and develop it more into my own style.

Here’s a graph to better explain my thought process

Here’s another gun to the head reminder to use references. Recently I was drawing shoes for a character and I have a pretty consistent method of drawing shoes (consistent, not good).

But I wanted it to look more rugged so I looked up an image of a hiking boot and guess at what point in this timelapse that the reference was pulled up

I had for years tried using tutorials and reference photos but the process never really clicked for me. But over the years I have improved my technical skills and I believe that those improvements and all that practice made it way easier for me to understand and replicate tutorials, i understand now how the specifics of certain things like shading and depth work, picking up new skills that are still in the area I work in became way easier. But Im obviously still finding areas in my art by random chance that I can improve on. Because I don’t think about those parts anymore, they’re in the background of my design process.

This is where my advice to non-artists comes in. Look up tutorials. For anything. You know earlier when I mentioned sewing? Look up a guide on stitching, I just learned today what a surgeons knot is despite having been hand stitching for years. You don’t know what you don’t know, you don’t seek out improvement when you don’t perceive the need to improve. Trust me, there’s always areas to improve but you are going to have to stretch your mind at some point to recognize them. Everybody talks about how you should use tutorials and use references and all that, but I don’t think many people are going to research tutorials for things they don’t feel like they need improvement in.

. Anyway that’s the end of my monthly psa

If something in this post confused you feel free to send me like an ask or a brick through my window with a note attached to it, I’m not picky.

[cowboysuperhero]

hi i realize i don't talk as much here as much as i do on twitter which. maybe i SHOULD talk here more because there are no character limits. okay so.

first image (aug 2022) i think was like. one of the first times i actually tried to reference and i had to trace bits of it and i didn't know HOW to reference. and i barely understood charlie as a character. did not understand how he would dress had not even settled on his tattoos. could not get the colors to look right so i think i like. put him at 90% opacity to make it work.

between that and the second one (sept 2023) not only has there been SO much character development (future version with a beard now exists. he has been electrocuted. he is now jacked. he is transgender.) but i have done so many anatomy sketches that i didn't have to reference at all. yes i still should / do / will but i didn't feel like i needed to just to get it done.

and i picked all the colors by hand i didn't use any layer modes. the shadows here are actually the base / local colors and the lighting is added in on top and i used actual color knowledge to do that. like how i learned that if you use a desaturated warm tone against a more saturated warm color, it makes the desaturated one look blue and that's how you get 'blue' light on warm colors without it looking weird.

i found a message from last year when i sent the first image as an example of how i "have clothing folds figured out in my style, maybe not realistically but they look good" and looking at the folds on that versus the new one is like...no i did not. i don't know why i thought that.

this obviously isn't like a 100% fair comparison since i didn't bother to shade the first one and i'm pretty sure i was experimenting with a different lineart brush / style (which is why i'm not commenting on that here) and i did actually redraw the chair image one-to-one already but. i was looking through charlie's gallery and this just stuck out to me like WOW. holy shit dude. jesus christ.

i will never ever ever get over how much just becoming deeply obsessed with a character makes you improve. to give you an idea he hit 69 images on toyhouse (lol nice) in october 2022. it is SEPTEMBER just under a year later and he is now at THREE HUNDRED SIXTY (360). I AM NOT JOKING. not all of those are by me but a lot of them are! i did studies SPECIFICALLY so i could draw him better. please note i had literally never done studies before and like i said did not know how to reference. i have never been so obsessed with a character before charlie and it's the best thing that ever could've happened to my art. AND me.

[endious]

GOD istg holy fuck your works.. do some shit to me goddAMN

"exposed to horror way to fucking early" to "horrible, awful kinks" pipeline is real and i'm the proof

anyway. i regularly think about running through the woods away from ej only to be tackled to the ground and violently fucked then and there on the ground. no matter how much i struggle he's so strong he can easily hold me down anyway and breed me as much as he likes. if it starts to annoy him how much i squirm he can just hold a knife to my throat and threaten to kill me if i don't hold still and take it

that is all, and goodnight

7:13 PM — run rabbit, run.

ft — eyeless jack x fem!reader

cw — noncon, breeding kink, pred/prey play (noncon), monster cock, belly bulge, dacryphilia, cervix breaching, womb fucking, choking, marking, blood, kidnapping

-17 & ageless blogs dni

wc — 975

an — leaving you with a small gift bcus <3 i love some good breeding kink + noncon. i’ve never wrote for jack yet but i hope this is fine!

He saw it as a game. Chasing you around these woods, the very ones he lived in and knew like the back of his hand was fun for once. Jack didn’t get a lot of fun in recent times, in face he rarely ever got it so he thought he could indulge in this little game of yours for a little while longer.

His growls are nothing of a human and he himself isn’t quite one anymore. His deathly grey skin and gaping eye sockets make him look like something out of a horror movie, perhaps that’s why you ran from him when he removed his mask.

It annoyed him at first, you seemed calm earlier so why were you acting like he was a monster now? Was it because he had caught you? Was it because he ripped your clothes off and started clawing at your poor flesh to leave his mark and his scent on you? What exactly scared you to the point of screaming for your life… Jack just couldn’t understand, but he was unable to understand human emotion now, unable to comprehend why you were all so frightened by his appearance. The doctor didn’t look in a mirror too often perhaps.

“That was fun,” It’s a deep growling sound in his chest, a sound a human couldn’t make. It was as if his voice echoed in your own skull whenever he talked, a thick tension in the air when he spoke or when his presence was near. It scared you to your core, heart hammering against your ribcage and he could hear it, and he loved it. “Now playtime’s over.”

“N-no! Please, just a little l-longer..” You excuse, stumbling over your words as the cool evening wind blows against your exposed body. The ground is uncomfortable under you and God you wished this thing hadn’t ripped your clothes off. You played it smart so far maybe you could convince it to hold out just a bit more so you could get help this time—

“No.” He shoves your legs up to your chest painfully, wind knocked from your lungs when he shoves his thick tip past your folds. There was no prep, not that you’d expect a creature to offer it. The pain felt like hell and it only grew more as he tried sinking further into you, his groans and growls making you tremble with fear that he might rip you apart any moment.

“So— tight— ngh,” His groans sound animalistic as he ruts into your cunt. He’s way too big and after taking a glance at his dick your suspicions were correct. His cock was abnormally large compared to any you’d seen ever before. It was too big to be put inside of you, you were sure of it but this monster wouldn’t stop until your whole pussy swallowed him whole even if it killed you in the process.

“‘s too big! Get it out!—“ His clawed hand grips your tiny throat, squeezing dangerously tight as your face turns shades lighter until he’s relaxing his hold with a hum of curiosity. He forgot how fragile you things were.

“You’ll take it.” He snarls, forcing more of his shaft into you and you swear you’re being split open literally by his size. His tip is pushing against your cervix and with each animalistic slam of his hips into yours it’s close to breaching your cervix straight into your womb. “You’ll take every inch, rabbit.”

You try to thrash around, tears slipping down your cheeks as you scream and cry for help but it’s no use. You were being fucked in a large forest you got lost in to begin with, there was really no hope of getting out now unless he allowed it.

Your brain was slowly turning off, he could tell when your brows started to knit together when his cock rubbed against that spongy spot inside you. You were getting used to it, accommodating to his size and letting him use your cunt. You were learning your place and that make his chest tighten with a type of happiness that wasn’t quite normal.

His dick twitches against your walls, your pussy stretched to the fullest and stuffed with his dick as your head goes limp against the ground and you bite your bottom lip hard to keep noises in. You didn’t want to make him angry like earlier, he already threatened to eat your organs while you slowly died… surely this was enough torture to go through as is.

“‘m gonna fill you up,” He gasps, his voice thumping around in your head as you rock against the uncomfortable ground and he uses you like a fleshlight. His growls and pants grow in volume making a shiver of fear fall over your body until you feel him stilling against you with his hips flush to yours. You yelp with widened eyes when he fills you up so much his tip breaches your cervix, his seed filling up your womb and dripping around his cock as he trembles with the afterglow of orgasm.

He’s still coming as he holds you to the ground but you’re too tired to fight back now. That sparkle in your eyes dulled tremendously as he grabs your face and tilts his head as if curious about your expression. As if you were the odd one.

He keeps you there, claws tracing over your bloody and marked body and he think for a moment that soon you’ll need to be stitched up or the blood loss would turn severe and worrisome.

“Don’t worry.” He sounds calm again, that same voice that became a safe haven for you in dark times like this when you needed something to cling to. “I won’t ever let you go.”

But all good things must come to an inevitable end.

[cower-before-power]

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean’s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon.  “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles.  “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

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Taglist: @clovertitan @millenialfanfictionaddiction @stigandr-the-cat @axoxtxhxh @bowandcurtsey​ @chaotic-nick​ @manjiroarchiviste​

[cactuswaterscactusfields]

Never About Us - Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Lava and Glaciers

Rating: Explicit - Minors DNI!

Word Count: 5.7k

For anyone who has trouble imagining a sith din, here’s a link to a Tumblr post with something I made on mandocreator.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, violence, cursing, mentions of death/threats of death. Descriptions of injuries, Trauma, PTSD, descriptions of fearful/radiation injuries. Descriptions of weaponry/making things up about ships and weapons. Indirect mentions of s/a. Let me know if I missed any!!

Translation Guide:

Cyar'ika (mando'a): "darling, sweetheart" Ner kar'taylir gar darasuum: "I will love you forever" lit. "I will know you forever"

Thank you to Geo and Wren for betareading this and sitting with me all those late nights I had the three am caffeine-induced writing sprees. I couldn’t do it without you.

-

Holy Shit.

You are currently sitting in a razor crest rocketing through hyperspace at a thousand lightyears per hour, probably breaking at least four Coruscantian laws of physics. But, you’re alive. You survived a battle with an inquisitor. You survived a battle with a force-sensitive Mandalorian murderer, and though you’re no Jedi, you somehow distracted him well enough to steal a ship from your abusive boss and make it into hyperspace.

The only issue now is you’ve got a target the color of your lightsaber, which is bright-kriffing-orange, on your back. Well, kriff. It was bound to happen eventually, your hind-brain consoles you. As you look down from the psychedelic-colored view panel in front of you that people have probably gone insane watching, you realize you have no clue where you’re going. The control panel lies still sticky with blood and ash, and the controls are blinking lazily. The ship’s on autopilot, which is probably a good thing, but you’re still a mess. You finally find the courage to look down at your chest, and there is a distinct lack of wound where the Mandalorian slashed you. That bacta isn't messing around.

Sure, there’s a fading pink scar, but that’s better than the gnarly saber wound that had painted your vision a new shade of starry and introduced your nerves to what a burn feels like. Sure, you’ve been burnt before, but it’s different when it’s from a white-hot energy blade made from force energy and plasma that probably could beat a star when it comes to who’s hotter. 

Regardless, you find the motivation to get up and survey what you’re working with. Your bag lies on the floor next to the chair where you collapsed, and the items in it have begun to spill out. You reach down and begin to rifle through it to take a quick head count.

One lightsaber, check. You click the button on it, and the blade extends like an extension of yourself. It still works. You quickly deignite the blade and place it back into the bag.

Two sets of clothes, check. They’re a bit sandy, but they’re livable.

Three days’ worth of rations. It’s gray mash, but you can’t complain. It’s not like you haven’t been eating that for the past three days anyway.

Two days’ worth of drinking water, but not enough to bathe with.

Enough credits to buy passage on a passenger ship to a nearby planet or perhaps buy some food.

It’s not much. But there are things to be grateful for in this world, and your bag’s contents fall under that list. You shove the stuff back into your bag and stand back up. Your back aches slightly from laying unconscious for who knows how long on that makerforsaken chair, but it’s better than being dead.

You turn toward the exit and make your way down from the cockpit into your new home. A ‘fresher in the corner, what looks like a…carbonite freezer on one wall, a stack of boxes, and a cabinet strewn open. Whatever was in that cabinet is gone now. As for sleeping, you see a cot built into one of the walls, and it appears to be of the fold-down variety. Makes space easier, you suppose. You sigh and look back up toward the cockpit. You still have no clue where you’re going.

You enter the fresher, and see..a shower? Are your eyes deceiving you?As your wonderstruck self creeps toward the shower and twists the nozzle, apparently they were. The shower sputters for a few moments, but no water comes out. Typical.

To have a working shower, you need to have water. To have water, you need to restock at a planet. And of course, the planet you were just on, deserted as it is, doesn’t have water. Whatever, you’ll find a sonic on whatever planet your sorry ass plugged into the ship’s coordinate system. 

Almost as if the force itself heard you, a sharp beeping sounds out from upstairs. Fuck.

You bolt out of the refresher after twisting the nob back to the ‘closed’ setting, and you climb up the tower, back screaming at you from the sudden movement. 

“Kriff!”

You sit down in the chair quickly, and your mind blanks again. You still don’t know how to fly this thing, and sheer luck allowed you to get off Geonosis in the first place. Why can’t this damn ship have labels?

The ship finally drops out of hyperspace with an aggressive jolt, and apparently, the beeping was to let you know that you should be strapped in. Should you be thanking it? Maybe, but it did almost give you a heart attack and interrupt your moping about the distinct lack of water aboard your ship. What’s a desert girl got to do to get some kriffing water?As the planet wooshes into view, white clouds and gray continents greet your eyes. And then it comes to you:

Nevarro.

–

Your ship lands in a landing field, and you slowly climb out of it, bag slung over your shoulder, and warmth greets you. Not again. Of course, it had to be a hot, lava-filled, ashy dusty planet with probably a low quality of life, and judging by the fact that you’re not getting any stares for having a burnt and ripped shirt, wrecked overalls, leather boots, and a face smeared with dirt, oil, grime, and whatever else Geonosis brought you, you’re not in a place you’ll be provided with top-level medical care. But who are you to complain? It’s somewhere that the Mandalorian Inquisitor isn’t.

You look around, and the ground beneath your worn leather shoes flutters around, like ash and dust. That could be because it is ash and dust, but you won’t go into the semantics of what Nevarro’s soil is composed of. Your mind jolts to more pressing matters, and you’re brought a memory.

–

“Now, cyar’ika, listen to me. If you ever need help, go to one of these planets.”Your father is holding a paper with numbers on it–coordinates.

“Wh-why?” Your voice sounds foreign even to you, young as it is, and still full of innocence. Oh, how times have changed. Your hand reaches out to grasp the paper, and the material feels foreign to your datapad-accustomed hands. The writing on it is meticulous as if written by hands familiar with deeply important subjects, where a mistake means life or death.

“These places are going to provide a form of solace. You may not be in the best area, and bad things could happen, but you will be safe. There are people there who can help you.

The blaster fire almost deafens his voice, and you realize where you are. Orange-black smoke fills the sky, and you see two dead robot men–droids–behind him. Screams and cries echo around you, and your very soul aches with the pain that those around you are currently going through. It hurts. Badly. It’s like thousands, no, millions of lives are being put out, as if an entire culture is dying, a planet itself burning in pain for the false transgressions of a few leaders.

Your pod gleams with dust, and the blueish plasteel panel begins to close. Your father takes your hand, kisses it, and–

–

“Hey, ash-face. You gonna walk or what?” A gruff voice sounds out behind you, and on instinct, you begin to walk. So it’s that bad, huh? You know what led you to this place, but damn, to be called out on it hurts. Well, that’s the way life goes out here. You’re in the outer rim here. This isn’t like coruscant, where the money flows free, and if you bet you only lose a speeder. Out here, if you take a bet and fail to pay, you get shot. But, it’s somehow safer, you think to yourself. You’ve learned to survive.

The wind blows past your face, and it stings slightly on your raw, grimey skin. It’s nothing you aren’t used to, being that normally by now you would have had four or five sand burns on your body from the drifts of winds coming into town from the irradiated deserts beyond. You remember it…fondly, the heat of the sun on your face, the nightmares all those nights triggered when Gakrux was particularly pleasant toward you. The sarcasm your thoughts bring is so thick you could cut it with a knife. The thought of being forced to stay in that desert as the remnants of the empirical sterilization slowly tear your DNA apart and you slowly die from dehydration–you shiver. Your hindbrain jumps off that topic and back to the issue at hand, and for once you agree with it. Nobody wants to think about being left in a desert to die, especially not you. But you’re not there anymore. You’re in a new place, hopefully safe (at least your father seemed to believe so), and may have a new chance at employment.

You walk down the road, and you see a bar in between the innumerable gray, black, and brown stony buildings permanently stained drab from the ever-present fires off in the wilds and the ash that somehow manages to coat every inch of life on this planet. First sand, and now ash? You can’t catch a break. But, whatever the force has in mind has got to be better than being hunted down by an inquisitor who knows how you were raised, how you were trained to think, and how you can fight.Maybe you could ask for help. It doesn’t look too…shitty, but it’s not the safest dive you’ve ever been to. Regardless of the socioeconomic status of the town around you, you press onward and enter the open doorway. Eyes meet yours, and a greenish lizard–trandoshan, you correct yourself–walks toward you. However, before he can say a word, a man dressed in rich-looking clothing and a cloak appears in your frame of vision.

“Hello, little one! Welcome to the guild! To what do I owe this pleasure? My name…is Greef Karga!”

–

So, you’ve met Greef Karga. Maker, he talks a lot. Like, a lot, a lot. He doesn’t stop. First, he asked you where you’ve come from, (“You’re covered in grime, there must be a story behind that!!” He cheerfully cantered to you, you so fondly remember.) where you’re going (“No Clue,” You answered honestly.) and who you are (you didn’t give an answer to that one beyond your name.). After, however, you’ve downed a few spotchka shots and sufficiently burnt your throat with the liquor, you begin to open up.

“Why did you come here?” His voice breaks your ever-present reminiscing.

“To be honest..I’m not sure. Someone I trust told me I could find work and safety here.”His eyes narrow slightly at that one, and your senses sharpen slightly. He’s tense, very tense. You almost wonder why, but everyone has their dirty laundry. Perks of being force sensitive, you suppose? You’re able to sense someone’s emotions unless they’re really good at blocking it, or, they’re a force-immune species like a Geonosian. That’s another reason you hated Gakrux. You couldn’t read him any better than you could his language. You’re not quite sure how you learned how to read people so well, or if it’s just something that comes with the multi-part package that is being force-sensitive. However you gained the asset that has kept you alive more times than you can count, you’re still in your present situation on Nevarro.

“Do you know who I am?”

You shake your head. Greef Karga. He’s gotta have money, or power, or something to his name. You can’t quite figure out what, though. By now, you’ve attracted a few eyes, and the trandoshan from earlier definitely has his eye on you. Let’s just hope that he doesn’t know who you are. Apparently, that’s a common theme around here. Just like geonosis, you recognize. On that maker-be-damned sterile sand-hole of a planet, you knew nothing about anyone else beyond their name, beyond whether they broke their ship often or kept it in pristine condition. That’s the way it goes.

“I am the head of the bounty hunter’s guild here. I’m sure you recognize what that means.”

Oh. OH. Your brain immediately jumps into action, thinking of a thousand different possible escape routes by which to get out of this bar. That trandoshan will probably give chase, you’ll probably have to dodge some blasterfire which means drawing your saber, you may have to fight your way out and that could draw the empirical authorities, which means you’d be on their radar again and have to leave–it’s not a favorable situation at all. You could maybe–

“It means you need work, right?” His voice pierces your mind like a spear thrown by some long-dead god.

You quickly nod, and throw back another shot of spotchka to get your mind away from the escape-fueled adrenaline currently pumping through it and your quickly-beating heart. Maker, that would have been bad. Just a job. It’s just work, it’s just a job. 

“Tell you what. I’ll register you with the guild, and get you started on a simple bounty. You ever been to..Hoth?”

–

As the mechanics present at the shipyards on Nevarro slowly fill your ship with fuel and drinking water, you learn a few things. First, you’re pretty good at what you do, according to a conversation between two of the mechanics you overheard while restocking. At least that’s one positive you gained from your years of being on the run, beyond the sleep-deprivation and nightmares that seem to always plague your restless slumber.

Second, the people on this planet really don’t like the empire. You can’t blame them, though. From what you’ve learnt over years of hiding in the shadows, ever-familiar as you are with them, the empire has brought nothing but a façade of peace and deeply-rooted suffering in the circles you’ve passed through, whether those are richly coated disgraced former magistrates or Geonosian head mechanics with a penchant for throwing rusty objects at their underlings.

 Third…you have no clue what you’re getting into with this Hoth bounty. Hoth, from what you’ve read in Nevarro’s absolutely miniscule library (a real shame, you think to yourself. It could have been so helpful for information or parsing through some of the coordinates your father gave you), is cold. Like, really cold. But, you’ve managed to buy a thick coat (the shopkeeper gave you a really weird look when she heard that you’re buying all of this winter gear. It’s not like Nevarro truly even has a winter beyond hot lava and less hot lava), some cold-weather-attuned gear, and rations. You hope it’s enough.

As you slowly make the trek from the marketplace (if you ever come back here, you note, you’ll have to explore it more. It seems very..quaint.), you see your shiny razor crest all fueled up and ready to go. The sands and sun of Geonosis really did a number on her image, and now that she’s not reflecting radiation, you can appreciate the real beauty of the pre-imperial gunship. Two massive laser cannons next to two engines you could probably fit in if you tried, a hyperdrive at the back that dwarfs the nearby imperial-era ships, and who knows what else. She’s a real beauty, your mandalorian heart purrs. You’re never truly not a mandalorian, and from an early age your father taught you to appreciate weapons not as forces of carnage, but as forces of strength. Even after you were forced to flee your home, you’ve never truly stopped seeing the ships and weapons around you and appreciating their craftsmanship and dedication. Maybe that’s why you’re scared to use your saber, beyond the fact that it instantly reveals who you are. It was made for you, to fit in your hand, to be weilded to defend you, to keep you safe, made as a weapon to fit in the little hole in your heart that is a defenseless force weilder, made for you by your father. It’s the last thing you have left of home, beyond your memories.

You walk onto her after all of the tubes and pipes have been disconnected, and you start to unpack all of the rations and equipment you bought. Apparently, the guild has a pretty good starting bonus, seeing as it provided free ship repairs and refuels, and enough to afford you three weeks’ worth of rations and the clothes you bought. Your eye falls back to the refresher, and walk over. Maybe you’ll get to shower?

Your hopes are dashed, however, when you remember that Nevarro is a dry planet too. What is it with you and dry planets? Apparently, as much as your conscious mind hates them, your unconscious mind wants to stay very far from them. The reason why is lost on you, as you turn back to look up at the ladder. You also managed to pick up a quick infopanel from the library on how to fly a ship, and though it’s nowhere near the real thing, you know what the buttons do and when to press and not to press the throttle. It’s a miracle you’re not dead.

You climb up the ladder after pressing the red triangle labeled “closed” in Aurabesh next to the door. At least your father taught you how to read. He taught you a lot of things, it appears. If only you still….no, you say to your mind. That’s a topic you’d rather not breach. 

The cockpit once again presents itself to you, all shiny buttons and metal walls and plasteel viewing panels. Maybe this could be home, for now. Better than your apartment back on Geonosis. You wonder what will happen to that place. After not paying rent, they’ll probably investigate and find you no longer living there. When that happens, they’ll likely auction off the belongings you left there, get rid of the water and give it to people with more money than you can dream of, and rent the property out to someone else so that they can suffer in your place. What makes you different than anybody else? Why did you deserve to escape mandalore? What did you do to deserve escaping Geonosis? What makes you so special? You don’t know, honestly. You lived your life as any other mandalorian child. You were force-sensitive, yes, but what does that give you when others like you have been increasingly hunted by imperial soldiers and inquisitors? Why are you so unique that you survive in the face of death when others have not been so lucky? Unfortunately, you know exactly what your mind is doing. Survivor’s guilt. You read of it in your father’s notes, back when you first learned to read. Of course, then, you couldn’t understand what the book was telling you. Why, your small brain had asked, why would someone feel this way when they’re alive? Alive is a good thing!

You know for a fact that’s not the case. Regardless, you have places to be.

You sit down at the control panel, and hesitantly press the startup button. The ship roars to life beneath you, and you flex your hands.

Okay, that’s step one. Remember what he said. Pull on the throttle, and then push, but not too hard.

You do as your train of thought commands, and the ship slowly raises into the sky before jetting off into the atmosphere. You enter the coordinates Karga gave you for Hoth, and then press the blinking bright red hyperdrive button. As if on instinct, the ship slows for a moment as the stars begin to warp, and then it almost tears through space as it enters the hyperspace lane. Your ship settles almost as quickly as it entered, and the streaking lights are all that greet your eyes. Now what?

–

It appears the next course of action is to wait. Just like your trip from Geonosis to Nevarro, you have no way to tell the time beyond the ticking of the destination panel, which displays how long until you arrive, and the clock you bought and set to Nevarran time while you were on Nevarro. Your circadian rhythm is so screwed. Well, at least you could try and organize.

You climb back down the ladder and face the equipment, clothes, and food you purchased at the market. Maker, there’s a lot. The bags of clothes (provided in canvas bags by the kind shopkeeper that you assume will keep the fragile articles safe) are piled up to your waist, and your food crates are stacked taller than your head. Well, you’ve got about two days, and absolutely nothing to do but think, so, here goes.

You start with the clothes. You begin to sort them first by function, and then by color, and then by size, from thinner to thicker. Your winter clothes have one cubby, your desert-related clothes have another, and of course, other cubbies are assigned for undergarments, clothes without a distinct weather pattern protection, and coats/overlayers. It’s a lot more than originally expected, but at least you have some variation from the overalls and tunic that you’re used to. As you sort, your everchanging mind wanders.

–

“How do I use it?”“When the time comes, my dear, you will know. You will know with your heart. Remember what I’ve always told you. Trust in the force, and trust in yourself.”

“Will you be there when I do?” Your eyes focus on his face, and you focus, and the blade ignites.

It’s orange, like blazing fire, or a pool of lava, or leaves from trees you’ve never seen but in books falling to the ground. Somewhere between yellow and red, somehow familiar, like you’ve seen it before. It stands out against the fiery skies, and the ash that lands on the blade burns up on contact. It’s hot, you can feel the heat on your face, its weight powerful in your palm. This object, your little mind tells you, will define your fate.

The blade de-ignites as you refocus, and your eyes meet your father’s.

“Ner kar’taylir gar darasuum, cyar’ika. Never forget that.”

He closes the pod once again, and you watch him as the pod lifts slowly into the air. You see more metal men approach behind him, and your little fists bang on the glass desperately. You see the ground below you begin to disappear, and you begin to sob. You can see it now in your mind's eye, them putting a gun to his head, your mind conjuring images of watching your father die in front of you while you can't do anything, and it'll be all your fault. You didn't stop them. The tears pour down your sliced face, stinging the cut from the earlier rock. You can’t get to him, you can’t tell him. You’re trying so hard, but he doesn’t hear, he doesn’t know, they’ll hurt him! They approach him from behind, and as you scream out to him, they--

–

You snap awake, your face pressed into the floor of the ship. You’re sprawled over a pile of rations, and you sit up slowly. You look down at the rations, and they’re half-organized. You must have fallen asleep while organizing. You look at the clock, and it’s been about eight hours since you fell asleep. You must have been very tired. At least you don’t have long until you land on Hoth.

Over the next four hours, you finish organizing the food and water into their separate expiration dates and types, and you stand up. Your knees scream at you from the prolonged pressure on the ground. You’ll be sore for weeks. Your back aches again, and you’re reminded of how you felt waking up just a few meters away in the cockpit. Your poor back, it’s been through a beating, and you know for a fact that the suffering is not over. You could see if the clinic in town has a chiropractor, but for now, you’ll just have to deal. 

As you pull on the winter clothing, the cockpit sounds out with a loud beeping you recognize almost instantly. You’re about to drop out of hyperspace. Now the only question is..how do you hunt down a bounty? Sure, you’ve fought before. It’s part of your culture, almost part of your religion. But you’ve never killed. Maybe you could bring the bounty back alive, so that no blood would be spilled on your hands beyond that from a minor scuffle. That’s probably for the best. You look over at your small blaster, and slide it into the holster on your hip. 

You climb up the ladder to the cockpit, and the quiet hum of the engines greets you. You sit down in the pilot’s seat, and strap yourself in. The beeping increases in frequency, and then it hits you–the shock of exiting hyperspace sends you forward, and your body strains against the straps that hold you into the chair. You hear both full and empty boxes sliding across the floor of the bay downstairs, almost ruining all of your hard work. At least you remembered to close the storage compartments, so your labor isn’t too ruined. Still, you’ll be slightly afraid to look down there when you inevitably have to clean up later. Ouch. 

You see the whitish-blue planet of Hoth through the view panels when your head finally stops spinning from the vertigo of the ship lurching to a slower speed, and you can immediately tell that this is going to be cold. The planet appears to be made of snow and ice, but at least it looks solid. Your hands tentatively land on the controls, and you slowly pull the ship down toward the surface. As you enter through the atmosphere, the visibility of the area around you decreases to a minimum. You try to pull up on the thrusters to give you more control, and you finally clear the clouds. The ship lowers to the ground, and as its weight comes off the thrusters and onto the ice, you hear a crack.

Uh oh.

–

You pull yourself from the smoking metal of your ship, and it comes back to you. Karga had warned you that Hoth is absolutely littered with ice caves. It’s a bit of luck and a guessing game to land in the right spot, and it appears you lost. You step away from the wreckage, and survey what you’re working with. 

First off, it looks fixable. You always have tools on you, a mechanic would be stupid not to. One of the engines looks partially fried, and some of the landing gear is bent in a shape it should not be bent in. The outer plating is pretty badly dented, but the hyperdrive and second engine appear to be fine. She won’t be pretty, but she’ll fly with a bit of TLC. The only issue…you’re on a kriffing freezing planet in an underground ice cave.

They weren’t kidding. It’s cold here. Really cold. You would have frozen in minutes if you didn’t spend the extra credits on cold weather gear. The icey wind of the blizzard outside is only dampened by the icy walls around you, and snow still falls through the hole in the ice ceiling above to land on your furry coat. You luckily avoided tearing the clothes on your back currently keeping you alive in the crash, but your nose burns as blood rushes away from it to your core. Kriff, it’s cold. Your teeth chatter slightly, and you pull your hood over your head, secure it to the mask attached to the front of the hood, and zip the rest of the coat closed. That’s a reprieve from the cold, but your eyes still sting at the absolute white of the sky above. You pull on snow goggles from the bag you had on your person when you crashed, and though your vision is now orange, your eyes won’t die from the sun reflections.

You stretch, and check your hips for your blaster and saber. One is hidden in a secret pocket on the inside of your coat, while one is in a holster. You pull the beeping red tracking fob from your boot, and as you slowly turn in a circle it beeps loudly when you face one entrance of the tunnel ahead.

So a Hoth bounty, huh?

–

You’ve been walking for about an hour, and you see an exit to the ice caves. Blue stalactites of eternally frozen ice hang above your head, and they’re almost a constant reminder of the planet you’re on. It’s not like you’re not familiar with the concept, you’ve spent the last few years on a sterile, irradiated planet of orange sand, rocky spires, and abusive bosses. However, this one is covered in snow and ice. You step, and as the snow crunches under your feet, you hear a faint footstep behind you.

Instantly, your brain jumps into high gear. Your hand flies to your blaster, and your senses are on high alert. It doesn’t help that your hearing is already slightly muffled by the hood, but you can still hear faint noises. You just have to listen. And so, you listen.

The footsteps are getting closer, and if you had to estimate, they’re about a hundred feet behind you in the caves. You turn toward the corner you just passed, and quietly leap to hide against the ice wall next to you. From this angle, you’re hidden in the blind spot of whoever is coming toward you, and you check the blinking fob in your hand. As the footsteps grow nearer, the beeping increases in frequency just slightly. You slip it into your boot and draw your blaster. You’ve got to be ready for anything.

What you aren’t ready for is the trandoshan from the guild hall rounding with a blaster aimed directly at your head. 

Your instincts kick in, and you duck. On a tragically humorous note, you’re reminded of that day when you were sent away from Mandalore. Oh, how the tables have turned. You draw your blaster and aim for his gut, but his foot comes around and kicks it from your hand. You hiss in pain and draw your hand back toward your chest protectively. As you’re distracted by the sharp pain in your wrist, he leaps onto you. 

What the hell is he about to do? Your mind immediately prepares for the worst.Your flight or fight instinct immediately kicks in, and you kick at his gut. Your foot collides with his soft stomach, and he’s thrown off you. And then he draws his blaster, and before you have time to dodge, he shoots you in the leg.

KRIFF. If you thought the lightsaber slash had hurt, this is a new level of pain. The wound begins to sting and bleed, as your adrenaline pumps through you. He creeps toward you as stars swim across your vision, and it begins to become difficult to differentiate him from the surrounding snow, ice, and dizziness your adrenaline-drunk brain is producing. You try to reach for your saber, and his foot comes down hard on your hand. You begin to try to use the force, but he quickly clasps a cuff on one of your wrists.

It’s like the world has stopped.

You can’t feel the life around you, minuscule as it may be, you can’t feel the life of the trandoshan who currently has you half-cuffed and at unconsciousness’s door, you can’t feel the ever-swimming life that has surrounded you your whole life. It feels cold. Not like a temperature, the biting wind still causes you to feel the temperature drop in the now-open wound on your ankle. You were in this web, this indescribable web connected to all the other life in the galaxy, each pulsing heartbeat sending a thousand ripples through your soul, but now…silence. Horrible, horrible silence. Silence you can’t break if you scream, silence you can’t destroy if you were to spend the rest of your life standing next to a starfighter’s engine. It feels…so lonely, like you’re in this little bubble all by yourself that can’t be broken, can’t be escaped, can’t even be felt outside of. You’re, for the first time in your life, alone. It feels awful. 

The wound on your ankle is your only solace of stimulation, the scorching pain beginning to ache deeply as blood bubbles up from the exposed veins. You’re lucky the blaster shot didn’t hit an artery. If it did, your ever-present mind tells you, you’d be dead.

It kriffing hurts, and as it begins to swell, your world fades. Your foot, already low on feeling, is now numb, and you’ll be lucky to keep it after this shot, not that it’ll matter. The trandoshan slowly places the blaster against your forehead and smiles a cruel, fanged smile. Faintly, you hear a beeping from his hand, and you see a small fob in the gloved grip of your soon-to-be killer.

“This is the end of the road for you, hmm, Jedi? There are some very powerful people who want you dead.”Is this the last face you’ll see before you join the rest of your people? Is this how it is supposed to end? A frozen planet your final resting place an eternity away from the planet your empire razed to the ground for disagreeing with it? Will this be your finale? Not in the back alley of some irradiated planet, not in the warzone of the people you were supposed to die with, but on an ice-death sphere thousands of light years away from the nearest populated planet? Is this–

A red saber cleaves through the trandoshan like a hot knife through butter. The trandoshan falls, now in two pieces, and his blaster drops from his hand onto the snow next to you. No blood falls, but the faint glow of molten flesh is all you see for a moment before two black gloved hands push the remains off of you. And then you see him. Dressed still in crimson and black, armor gleaming with snow and ice clustered to it, black plasteel t-panel staring directly at you. 

The Mandalorian Inquisitor.

“I told you I’d see you again, didn’t I, little mandalorian?” You can almost hear the smirk in his voice.

Your vision fades, and you feel yourself drop away from consciousness.

–

I had to split this chapter into two parts because of how long it was going to be, but I’ll be out soon with the third. Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

~Cactus 

[sibsteria]

hallelujah [jack kline]

prompts: ''please, don't stop'', ''I love it when you kiss my neck'', ''you want to have sex with me?''

summary: first time with jack

characters: Jack Kline, (mentioned) Dean Winchester, (mentioned) Sam Winchester, (mentioned) Castiel

warning: smut, fluff, first time awkwardness, tooth rotting reassurance fluff, literal filth

---

The atmosphere was light and solacing, the subtle tenderness of his fingers soothed my restless arms, as they danced across my skin with such delicacy. His hands left tingles, igniting a fire that spread across me, shivers took their toll up and down my body.

I looked up to his angelic face, to be greeted with a toothy grin, as his eyes settled on my relaxed frame. If my heart did stutter as much as it did metaphorically, I'd be six feet under from the day I met him. I lay cradled between his legs, my head against his chest, as my body was positioned on it's side. Feeling the soft inhales and exhales coming from the soft boy below me had lulled me into such a confined sense of security, his warmth enveloping me as I revelled.

The remainder of TFW had business elsewhere, so this left me and my chosen soulmate in the confines of the Men of Letters abode. If soulmates were a thing, Jack and I could be labelled as a prime example. I mindlessly fiddled with the folds of his jacket as we found comfort on the sofa, his hand that was currently grazing my arm had moved up to repeat a stroking movement in my hair. I hummed as the sensation of him running his fingers through my hair was a well-found favourite feeling of mine.

Each time he accidentally tangled his fingers within strands of my hair, creating a soft tug, would create a fiery pit in my stomach.

''Y/n...I need to-'' He paused for a moment, ''-ask you something?'' he had ended his sentence as if it were a question to himself as well, unsure of his words. His words were communicated in a shaky manner and he was biting his lip, he only did that when he was nervous.

I sat myself up and he followed suit, I sensed the seriousness of the situation and reached forward to clasp his hands in mine.

''Are you okay? Is something wrong?'' I let my tone remain calm yet my head was spinning with questions.

''N-No, nothing's wrong, I just-'' He swallows hard, his eyes can't seem to reach mine, so I cup his cheek which is red and warm.

''Whatever it is, you know you can say anything to me, I'm the last person to ever hurt you.'' I turned his jaw, carefully and lightly, so his eyes were looking into mine.

''I was, uh...speaking to Dean last week and he was teaching me about...pornography?'' I almost choked on my own spit, my eyes widened a small amount.

''What did he say? I swear to Chuck if he said anything ba-''

''He said that, everything that went in in those...videos, were fake and that you should only repeat what they were doing with someone you love.'' My heart softened for the elder Winchester, who knew under that tough exterior that he knew the right things after all.

''Did he tell you what it was they were doing?'' I tilted my head as he continued to recite his conversation.

''I had read and learned about intercourse before but, saw no need for the knowledge. Until now.'' I dropped my jaw, no way, he doesn't mean- ''I would like to try it with you.'' He smiles wide and it makes my heart drum like a Metallica canticle.

''You want to have sex with me?'' I couldn't hide the awe and blush of the features of my face that betrayed me. ''Are you sure? No one is pushing you to do this, are they?'' I search his eyes for any uncertainty but find no evidence.

''I'm sure, because I love you, no one has told me to do anything. I really love you.'' The sincerity and sureness in his voice- I could pass out, if people's hearts can shrink from hate then my heart was exploding from love and affection.

''I love you too, Jack, when do you want to-'' I couldn't find the words I was searching for, but he took the hint.

''I-I would like to try now? If that's okay, I don't want to make you do something you don't want to.'' His eyebrows pursed in genuine concern, how could anyone ever say no to him?

''Of course, I would do anything for you- with you, Jack. I'd give my life for you, if the situation desired it.'' I could see the tears glaze over his cerulean stars that guarded his gaze.

''I could never ask you for that, I'd never let you do that.'' He pulled me into his strong cherish, his arms embracing me in a lax yet wistful capture. My heart was crying out to him, craving his everything, beseeching him as a whole. But not in a sexual way, in an amorous pining way.

''I love you more than I have anything, more than I will love anything.'' I voiced, looking into his azure allure as he beamed down at me.

''I love you.'' That was all he needed to declare before I pushed forward, seizing his ductile lips with mine, moving with a fervour that could shake the building. His delighted trill that vibrated against my mouth was a sound worth the world, every nerve in my chassis felt electric, with the passionate epicentre in the deep of my stomach. What were once innocent butterflies, felt like raging hawks in the depths of this tension.

His docile nature is an adverse contrast to the cruelty of most men I have met, the sensation of his padded fingers drifting across my skin as if they belonged there, was dynamizing.

I decided that I would take direction, seeing as I have prior experience. As our lips remained deep into a passionate lock, which could taunt the most enlightened of couples.

I lightly shifted him on to his back, moving his to lie onto the sofa, as I sat in the space in front of himself. I broke our connection to press small and sighted kisses the the outline of his jaw, he breathes out what I guess he was holding, with a small profound noise. I moved my kisses across his jaw until I reach the corner.

''Are we going to?- Y'know-'' I could pin-point his struggle so I decided to answer for him.

''Yeah, are you sure you want this? None of this matters to me as long as I have you.'' I felt his reaction before I heard it.

''Oh-I'm sure, if this is any part of it, I can't wait.'' What did I do to deserve this jewel of a soul.

I lifted my leg to straddle over his lap, almost as if instinct, his hands found the safety of my hips. I felt my eyes becoming heavy with lustful dilation as I inclined my head down to re-animate my lips with his in another searing kiss. We had kissed before, a lot, but nothing could compare to right now.

I seated myself down more, pressing myself against his lap, lighter than air. I didn't want to push him right of the bat.

His careful touch trailed up the side of my back, whilst one hand remained where it lay. His lips moved so fast, it was hard to keep up, I changed my approach. I continued down the road of gentle jaw pecks and moved down towards his neck, which was high in temperature. I added the aspect of pulling his skin through my lips and teeth with pleasurable suction, creating a small purple mark on neck which disappeared a few moments after. This was the first time he let out a fully fledged moan and his hips involuntarily bucked up to press against me. My breath hitched and through impulse I ground down on him harder.

''I love it when you kiss my neck, gah-'' He let out another strangled moan as I returned my focus to his neck, his crotch pushed up once again and connected against mine.

''Oh- can you do that again?'' His voice was hardly there as I felt him getting hard.

I listened to his plea and grinded myself down onto him, this time, I didn't stop. His hand gripped my hip, but he had trouble holding on.

''Here- this might be easier to hold on to.'' I guided his hands down towards the skin below my ass, which connected to my thigh. He grappled onto it and I sucked in air between my teeth, biting on my tongue, although it wasn't pain.

''Sorry! Did I hurt you?'' His frantic apology reminded my that I was the first person teaching him how to copulate.

''N-No, felt good, you can do that as much as you like.'' I edged him on, he nodded and gripped me again, this time moving onto my ass and I lurched my front forward. Burying my head into his neck, I whimpered.

''How did you know to-'' I couldn't answer as he spoke before I could finished,

''I guessed, was that right?'' He had a hopeful look in his eyes which almost made me cry out.

''So, so right. You're doing everything right.'' I moaned against his ear, taking in his ear lobe, nipping at it. His other hand which rested on my back had moved down to cup the other side of my ass, mirroring the other. He pushed my hips down to meet his, impatiently, he really couldn't wait. I can tell already he has an extreme praise kink. I slid my hips across, driving against his cock. He bucks again, fast and sure.

Today was a good day to wear a skirt.

His length was solid and craving release, his lips found my neck, as mine had once found his. He copied what I had done, nipping and sucking at the skin, but this time it would mark. I whined out in frustration.

His hips coiled up faster, stuttering as he came, unexpectedly. Holy motherfucking shit. He called out my name in shattered cries, clasping at any part of me he could. His eyes were screwed as he experienced sexual fulfilment. shut He stopped for a moment after he peaked, I kissed his forehead and his nose as he smiled up at me in awe.

''Was-Was that?'' He searched for the words but couldn't find them.

''You had an orgasm, and I'm guessing your first. I'm also guessing you liked it.'' I heaved an amused exhale, he had no idea how hot he was in this second, he sat up to take his jacket off as I rested on his lap still.

''Did it feel like that for you?'' I could see the wishing in his sky shaded eyes.

''Not yet, but this is about you, we don't need to carry on-'' I stopped my sentence as I felt him grow once again beneath me.

''No refractory interval, huh.'' I whispered to myself in shock.

''In-In the video, the people didn't have clothes on, is that normal. And I didn't put my-'' I stopped him before I could blush any further.

''Uh yeah it's normal don't worry! You just had an orgasm from grinding your- self against me. We haven't had sex yet.'' I brushed the hair from his forehead, which stuck to him because of the cold sweat lacing his skin.

''Can-Can we? Now?'' His hot, pink, cheeks blaring against the sunlight, beautiful as he begged. I couldn't refuse him. His breathing was normal and fluid now, seemingly recovered completely.

''If you really can't wait any longer.'' I cupped his face, kissing him once again, rolling my hips down onto his. He was impossibly hard. I moaned again, slipping my hands under his shirt brushing against his untouched body.

He still remained sat up as I pulled of his shirt, his chest had a small redness across it from the heat, fucking beautiful.

I reached down to grab the hems of my shirt when his hand stopped me.

''Can I?'' Jack's curious eyes bounced between mine and my shirt.

''Go ahead.'' I shuffle back from his lap, still straddling him. His fingers find the end of my shirt and slowly pull it up, revealing my good bra thank the lord- actually no, let's not thank him.

''If it's okay with you, I'll take care of this part, it can be tricky.'' I motion to my black, lacy garment and he mumbles an 'okay'.

I reach behind myself, taking a breath before I unclasp the back, pulling off the straps and letting it fall to the floor. I go to cover myself but Jack restricts me, his head moves in confusion.

''Don't do that, I want to see you.'' His declare makes my head reel.

''I'm sorry that I can't be more than this for you.'' I remove my arms from my chest as he holds my hands.

''Why would you want to be? This is you, and as I once head Dean say-'' I inwardly cringe at his name being used in this situation. ''I think the word breath-taking describes you.'' His still-sitting form moved forward so his head can near towards me, his eyes watch me closely before leaning down. He presses soft and sweet kisses to each bust of my chest, I groan out in pleasure, but not physically. The emotional heaviness of the moment is what makes me cry out, how could one person love another so immensely.

''I love you. And that means all of you.'' I shut my eyes in impassioned heaven.

''I love you too.'' I kissed him before I left the warmth of his lip, he whined before I could speak.

''We need to take the rest of our...clothes off.'' I bit my lip and looked off to the side in blushing attraction.

''O-Oh!'' He seems to excite at this and eagerly unbuttons his jeans, unzipping before ultimately dropping them completely. ''Should I take my underwear off also?'' He questions me. His briefs are soaked from his previous settlement and I long to wonder what it would feel like to have him in my mouth, that would have to wait.

''If you'd allow me-'' I step towards him, slowly reaching for his clothed crotch, he nods in affirmation. I hook my fingers around the sides of his briefs, kissing his shoulder and chest as I start to pull them off. He kicks them from himself once they reach a certain point and points towards my skirt.

''Can I take it off?'' I nod and smile at him.

''You can do anything you want, anything.'' I say, a sincere and truthful confession.

He kneels below me, looking up with an innocent yet ruined look in his eyes. Pressing small kisses to my stomach and thighs as he pulls down my skirt along with my underwear in one swift action. I didn't feel a need to be nervous with him anymore, letting my body do the talking instead of words I led him back towards the couch, which up until this point remained un-christened. That was about to change.

''In the video, the man puts his mouth on her...lower area.'' He whispers in thought as he sat on the couch.

''That's not important right now, we can explore that later. Right now, I just want you to feel the peak of physical affection.'' He gives me one of his toothy smiles again and I can't help but stare at him with adoration in my eyes before we resume the position we were previously in.

I straddled him with no effort and took his impressive length in my hand. He gripped the couch and moaned lowly as I worked him up and down a few times, spreading the leaking pre-cum.

''You ready?'' I lean down, kissing his nose, fondly.

''Yes, really ready.'' He breathes out, I prod my entrance with the tip of him, sliding it in slightly.

He let out fast paced breathy groans as I slid down onto his firm cock. I'm in no way a virgin, but it's been a while.

He moves his hands my my waist, his nails dig into me, I moan.

''I'm not hurti-'' I answer him before he could finish.

''Definitely not hurting me.'' I sigh in pleasure, down his ear as I hunch over.

''I'm gonna move now.'' I mumble, he doesn't know what's coming to him.

I lift up my hips until I reach the tip of his cock before lightly slamming back down, his hands slide down to clutch the skin on the side of my thighs.

''Do-Do that again.'' He groans.

''I'll do more than that.'' There was no need to hold back, I slid myself up again and repeated the motion, setting a steady momentum. His hips snapped up to meet mine as I bounced with no shame.

''Oh, please, don't stop.'' He rushed out, trying to set a faster pace as he snaps up with impatience.

''Jack, you wanna- try being in- control?'' I attempt to communicate through breathy laments.

''Yes, please.'' I stop sinking my hips for a moment whilst I slowly try to transfer my body weight to beneath him. He gets the gist and helps to flip us over, carefully.

''Don't hold back, you don't need to be gentle.'' I brush a hand through his hair so it's out of his face before an unexpected thrust knocks the air out of me. He doesn't waste time, pushing himself to the brink of speed, I struggle to find somewhere to anchor my hands and I settle for one against his shoulder blade and the other in his hair.

With the relentless pounding and merciless fucking of his hips, I felt blissful thrill that I had never felt before, I couldn't help the tug of his hair that pulls between my fingers. He wails out, I panic and try to apologise.

''Sorry, fuck! Did that hur-'' He snaps into me with more meaning than ever, it's ruthless and hot.

''Do it again.'' He begs into my ear, his voice wavering. I do as he says and pull against his hair, he whines, biting down into my neck.

''Fuck, Jack!'' I cry as his pelvic bone creates intoxicating friction against my swollen clit, he's balls deep and no where near stopping.

''Are you sure you haven't done this before?'' I grip at the skin on his shoulder blade and he grouses in pleasure.

''Never, you're the only person I'd ever do this with, I love you.'' He grunts our as his cock remains a punishing and brutal pace. The sound of his voice saying 'I love you' in such an intimate moment makes me orgasm on the spot, I came hard and with a recoil I stutter my hips to try and match his, failing at the objective. I moan out his name as I grip onto his hair, the hardest I have.

''Jack!'' He pounds impossibly faster as my walls clench around him, begging him to let go, and he does. With a chorus of strangled moans, and stammered whines, he came. He gives a few more ruts before collapsing his head against my chest, leaving kisses up my neck.

I feel my body give up, refusing to move, refusing to breathe.

''O-oh, wo-wow. Woah.'' Jack grins with astonishment.

''I know, Jack. That was- especially with you- and-'' I give up on words.

''I want to do that all the time.'' He let out a throaty laugh, but I knew he was completely serious.

''We can, maybe not all the time but- when it doesn't inconvenience the others.'' It rings in my head for a moment before I realise.

''Shit! The guys will be back soon, grab your clothes.'' I usher him to hurry up and I grab mine as well, stammering along to my room with whatever working muscles I had left. As soon as I shut my door, I felt the front one open. Close call.

I breathe out in relief.

''What the fuck?'' I hear from outside.

''Uh, Y/n?'' I looked towards a blushing Jack. ''I forgot to pick something up.'' He drops his clothing and I realise we are missing his briefs. Oh, fuck.

''What the fuck is this?'' Ah yes, that would be your adopted sons cum-stained underwear, Dean.

[gojology]

Jealousy. (1/3)

𝑨𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆 | im a sucker for jealous teenage gojo and thats all u have to know

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 | Teen! Gojo Satoru x Gender Neutral Reader

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕 | 1236

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 | Light Cursing. ALL CHARACTERS HERE ARE AGED DOWN FROM PRESENT ANIME/MANGA INTO WHEN THEY WERE TEENAGERS. 

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 | Gojo hates whenever you spend time with Geto. Unfortunately, you do that more than half the time. He can’t put a finger on it, but he has a feeling of dread whenever he sees Geto with you, and silently wishes it’s him. Shoko tries helping.   Gojo’s eyes glared at you and Geto, he was grateful his eyes were concealed behind his dark shades. A beautiful warm orangey-yellow coated you two both, Gojo noted how golden hour suited you so well, but for once paid no mind to Geto. Both of you were sweating incredibly hard, but didn’t seem to mind the sticky skin and the clothing.

  You were profusely giggling, and every time you caught your breath, Geto would tickle you again and you’d burst into a fit of giggles, and the cycle would repeat.

   Your cans of Pepsi sat untouched, not even the caps were opened.   Grumbling, Gojo took another swig out of his second energy drink. Still looking at the both of you through his glasses. He sat down on a bench, hunched over. Even though he hated the very sight of you hanging out and being so friendly with each other, he didn’t want to leave.

    Was it fear of Geto kissing you without Gojo’s vision cast upon you two?

 “Stalking (Y/N) and Geto again?” a familiar serious voice grumbled, Gojo’s head swung around before he realized Shoko was sitting down on the bench next to him. She crossed her leg, Shoko’s shoulder length hair ruffled a bit in the weak breeze as she shifted her gaze towards him.

   Gojo blinked, cursing himself for being so obvious in his stalking endeavors. It would be too useless to even argue, trying to tell Shoko that he wasn’t even looking at them, and rather very interested at a random bench that just so happened to be next to the pair was comparable to just straight up admitting that you had a crush on (Y/N).

 “This is my first time even lookin at the two, fuck are you talking about, saying again?” Gojo placed a hand on his chest, leaning backwards a little. Grinning a little while taking another generous swig of his energy drink. “Free entertainment, I’d rather look at them then some fucking birds flying by.”

 “Mmm. Yeah okay.” Shoko nodded sarcastically, and then burst into a fit of giggles.

 “What?”

 “Holy shit, Satoru.” Shoko was now holding her stomach. Wiping the corners of her eyes. It had been a while since he had seen Shoko laugh like that, she was always doom and gloom all the time. Gojo couldn’t quite put a finger on why she was laughing, though.

 “I’m not that stupid, Satoru.” laughing again, opening her drink loudly, then taking a short sip of her canned coffee. I’m pretty sure I see you looking at (Y/N) more then I see you gloating to some dumb schoolgirls in public.”  

 “I have no fucking idea what you’re talking about.”

 “You get defensive when you’re lying.” Shoko stuck her pinky out, her eyes bore into his. Gulping down the rest of her drink. She crushed it with a singular hand, examining the wrinkles and folds in the now compressed and beyond repair tin.

 “I do not! You’re accusing me of some weird ass shit, you know.” Gojo spat out, an unfamiliar feeling bubbling inside of him. He had never felt this before. Playing with the hem of his pocket a little, he reached for his emergency candy that he always had in his back pocket, he hated awkward situations like this. He stared down at Shoko, heart beating quickly for some unbeknownst reason.

 He played a little with the wrapper in his pocket, while Shoko leaned her back on the bench, looking at the sky. She crossed her arms, setting the crushed can on the splintered wood bench, blowing on a stray hair on her face. “Whatever, Satoru.” she grinned, replying a little later. She stood up, casually throwing the can into the nearby trashcan. She shoved her hands into her pockets, walking down the gravel path.

 As her figure grew farther and farther into the distance, Gojo sighed, realizing that he had completely forgotten about you and Geto.

 He turned his head over his shoulder, this time not as obviously. You and Geto were still giggling with each other, like a stupid couple. Your Pepsi cans still sat untouched, water dripping down the both of them. It was like the two of you forgot Gojo or Shoko were ever there.

 He spat at the ground, guzzling down the remaining energy drink. Crushing the can, just like Shoko had done but with way more aggression, Gojo angrily threw it into the trashcan, grinding his teeth. ‧₊˚✩彡.   “AAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” You screamed, arms up in the air, hair blowing in the wind. Geto was chasing after you around the grass field, Gojo’s legs splayed out, entranced by the two of you running around in circles.   “I’M GONNA FUCKING GET YOU, (Y/N)!” Geto grabbed at the air, running at you. You squealed loudly, running even faster.   Gojo mindlessly took a bite out of a sandwich, spitting out a tomato. He was sitting on a picnic blanket under the shade of an incredibly large tree, enjoying the cool against his sweaty, hot skin. Yet, not once considering taking his glasses off even though the sun wasn’t even in his way.    He was wearing a more casual t-shirt and a pair of shorts, compared to his usual Jujutsu Tech uniform. He enjoyed the casual wear, and felt like a normal teen for once, doing normal teen things.   “Gross.”   Shoko tilted her head, her legs also splayed out. She was also looking at you and Geto running around, yelping turned into giggling as Geto finally tagged you.   “The tomato or the lovebirds?”   “Both.” Gojo snickered, looking down. The familiar, negative feeling expanded inside of him again. It always occurred when he saw you and Geto having fun.   “Mmmm.” Shoko looked down on the picnic blanket, it had been custom decorated by the group. It was a group celebration after the crew had defeated all of the curses in a certain small village. Gojo had drawn an incredibly large stick figure, with his iconic pair of black circular sunglasses and his hair. A tiny person stood next to him, with a smiley face. A heart between the two.   He had also drawn multiple penises, and a pair of incredibly circular breasts, but that was besides the point. Shoko speculated that Gojo probably had a crush on (Y/N). If he didn’t, Shoko figured he just wanted (Y/N) in his bed, one or another.   It didn’t take a lot to figure Gojo out. Shoko wondered how stupid (Y/N) could be, not noticing Gojo’s crush when he obliviously stared at them like an absolute buffoon.   On the other side, Geto and (Y/N) decided to collaborate together, Geto had drawn (Y/N), and (Y/N) had drawn Geto.     Both of them were hideous.     “Ugly, right?” Gojo scoffed, looking down at the drawings. Silently wishing that he was in Geto’s place.    “How’d you know I was staring at the drawings?” Shoko shot back, a triumphant, cocky smirk on her face.     Gojo whistled, leaning on the tree trunk. His head resting on his hands, which he had propped up to rest his head against.     “Strong people just know these things.”     Gojo furiously dug into the ice box, yanking out a chilled, sugary pink lemonade. He held it to his forehead and sighed in relief.     Shoko turned over, now looking at Gojo’s ear. She narrowed her eyes.    “Satoru, have you ever considered that you have a crush on (Y/N)?”    

[duskkodesh]

Top ten worst artist’s versions of Morbius

Okay, one disclaimer first, obviously this is my opinion and my opinion only. I’m sorry if an artist you like makes it on the list but they deserved it *Coughs*. Also this is just the comics. Not including other media here, so don’t worry that stupid Spider-Man run game app version won’t be in this list to give you nightmares. Also because this is comics this will ONLY be 616 appearances that I find horrendous. So without further ado...

10: This is Peter Parker Spider-Man 78,  art credited as by John Romita Jr. Yes, I’m already going to get hate. He’s a good artist but Jesus Christ on a cracker look at this.

THIS is the version of Morb I hated because he looks like a WWE wrestler. He’s huge! He’s a bloody boulder! His clothes are always too shiny and they are ripped all over. Look, I just hate it. The man can draw great superheroes just never draw Morbius like this again. This is a oil tanker in human form with fangs. 

9: Jackson Guice. AKA the artist for Doctor Strange #10.

Look, I LIKE ugly. I really do but Morb isn’t supposed to look like a general plague victim. This guy looks more like a zombie than zombie Morbius does. Desiccated inbreed dog version Morbius, I hate it. He needs to be put down. 

8: Paul Gulacy, Adventures into Fear #20. I said in my AIF review that Paul was not my fave artist. What I really mean is the art... it’s terrible. 

That speech bubble is my reaction entirely. Look, I can deal with the face but again, too buff and this man cannot foreshorten limbs to save his life. Morb looks mangled and wrong on like every page of this comic. My least liked classic Morbius.

7: Look, I hate to do this but... Jackson Guice is on here twice because he amended his style from Doctor Strange# 10 to Doctor Strange #14 but uhhhh...

I like this LESS. Goth dandelion looking MFer. This Morb listens to the Cure and cries. Entomological damn eyes. I hate it. I promise this is the only artist on this list twice and it is ONLY because his style changed so much in four issues. 

6: AKA Marvel Comics Presents 144 AKA M.C. Wyman *Dodges a brick* I’m sorry okay!? But this is freaking terrible! LOOK AT HIM!

I LOATHE it. The over shading, the warped features. This is demon Morb most of this issue so he gets a slight pass. That’s the only reason this art isn’t higher up this list of dread.

5: Morbius #16 Isaac Cordova. This pains me but this deserves this slot.

I hate it. This is demon Morb here and yes, at the end of the issue it gets just a little better but holy hell do I hate looking at this. There’s no detail in this art, too much shading, crappy backgrounds. It’s only saving grace is there exists worse art.

4: Now we’re getting into the REALLY bad art and it breaks my heart to put Morbius #25 in here because it also houses a short story at the back that is one of my favorite story/art combos ever, but THIS, This Craig Gilmore art...

THIS Craig Gilmore art... I am seething. This is objectively bad. The art loses all fine detail. The backgrounds suck, the way he draws women is a joke. Fabric with no folds, crappy shading. I could go on for houuurs. I hate it. I think it’s a big contributing factor to the comic getting axed so fast after this change though they did shuffle around the artists the last few issues which sadly brings me to...

3: Morbius #31, art by Fabio Laguna. 

Look, other artists wound up here for making Morb incomprehensibly ugly. THIS artist is here for making him Clark Kent. He’s super buff, all the women in this issue are drawn super-sexy and all T+A. Proportion is lost on this guy he just makes shit up. This is so bad I have to post a second sample. This one is from the next issue.

I’d show you how he draws women but ya’ll can just look up any porn magazine and there you go. 

2: TODD MCFARLANE YOU HAD THIS COMING TO YOU.

I despise his art. I hate how his capes take on sentience. His webbing looks like barbed wire, every damn guy he draws looks contagious! Jawbones don’t work like that!!! Gritty grimdark pig nosed Morbius. Tiny eyed untrustable armhair covered sewer urchin. Old mop haired snub-nosed pitbull. UGGGGH.

For years Mcfarlane was the absolute top of my most hated list because of Spider-Man #13-14. Because of this art. There’s only one worse artist on here.

1! Spectacular Spider-Man vol 2 #14 Paolo Rivera. No. No no no. I don’t know how such a good artists did this to our boi.

The writing is even completely OOC for this. For the longest time I assured myself this had to be someone POSING as Morbius. This cannot be him. Didn’t act like him, didn’t speak like him, and CERTAINLY did NOT look like him. Hairless grubby tights-clad nosferatu twink. THAT is slenderman. It’s like the artist was just told “LOL draw a vampire but poorly.”

Also not forgiving Spidey for that really offensive wise-crack there. So it goes that I would not trust one of the best artists, Paolo Rivera, with drawing Morbius EVER again!!! AGH I’m enraged now. I need to go look at good art and calm down. Hope you guys enjoyed the list!

[yee-fxcking-haw]

Hi!! Could you possibly do a fic with Bakugo and Todoroki based on the lines from the song confident “she said it’s her first time” “I think she might’ve lied”

Where one of the boys are going on about their night with y/n and how it was their first time and the other says “I think she might’ve lied” and so on lol, thank you:)

I,,,, this ask,,,, I like it.

•She Might've Lied•

Summary: What the ask says lmao. Based off of the song Confident by Justin Bieber and Chance the Rapper. (College AU for legal reasons.)

Warnings: Oral (female receiving), mild overstim, multiple orgasms, mentions of a blowjob.

Pairing: Shoto Todoroki x Reader, mentions of Katsuki Bakugo x Reader (All aged up, 18+)

A/N: This turned into total fuckboy Todoroki but I am NOT mad about it, I simp aggressively. This is what my brain produced, I hope you like it! Thank you so much for such a fun request! I really enjoyed writing this.

Word Count: 1,428

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

   "Shoto- oh my God- fuck- fuck- fuck." You pant, back arching as you fist the sweat soaked sheets beneath you. 

   You shiver as he pulls you apart and works you over. Everything inside you feels so tight and hot and good. 

   The tip of his tongue zeroes in on your clit and your whole body jolts back, almost afraid of how incredible it feels. 

   "Fuck no." He growls before throwing an arm over your hips so he can keep you glued to the mattress. 

   He slides the other hand up the outside of your thigh before delivering a harsh slap to the meat of your hip. 

   Your head is thrown back as you whimper out his name, hands flying to his hair as your walls start to flutter. 

   He's not even using his damn fingers, he's ruining you with his tongue alone. 

   He drops his jaw and flicks his tongue against your swollen bud with fervent speed, your eyes cross and you cry out with little to no shame. 

   "There! Fuck! Right there, baby, you got it." You sob out, hips rocking as much as they can under his strong arm. 

   Everything builds and snaps at once. Ribbons of silky pleasure shoot up your spine and down your legs as your core clamps around nothing. 

   And he doesn't fucking stop. 

   He moves with urgency, with dedication. His hands grab under your knees before he pushes up to fold your legs to your chest. 

   "Hold these." He demands with his mouth still against your cunt. 

   "I cant- fuck! I can't…" You twitch as his tongue works relentlessly, body slowly but surely becoming overstimulated. 

   "You fuckin' better." He says, voice dropping to a bone chilling tone. He glares up at you, eyebrows knit together as sweat drips from the crown of his two toned hair. 

   "Holy shit." You sigh as you take your legs from him with a weak hold, prying yourself open for him. 

   "Atta girl." As soon as you have a hold of your legs, his hands are free to carry out his dirty work. 

   One comes up to play with your tits as the other slides down to join his mouth at your center. His long, skilled fingers slide in. They find that perfect spot instantly, rubbing at it as he pulls you closer and closer to the edge before you've even stopped cumming the first time. 

   "Sho! I'm gonna- oh my fucking god-" Your words turn into strangled cries as your whole body turns to mush. 

   You feel the tears fall, your cunt pulse, your vision blur and you just scream. Goosebumps are all over your skin as your toes curl and your whole body trembles. 

   He just licks and licks and licks. Slurping and savoring everything you give him. He's always so nasty with it, always so dedicated to reducing you to a sweaty, sobbing mess. 

   "That's it, that's my good girl." He pulls his mouth away only to mutter those sweet words. 

   His fingers still move slowly within you, working to help you ride the aftershocks of the mind numbing back to back orgasms he's just given you. 

   "You're always so messy." He muses, finally pulling his fingers out so he can run them between your folds and gather your release. 

   You watch with your jaw dropped, panting and overwhelmed. He brings the cream covered fingers to his mouth, tongue lolling out to make a show of tasting you before he closes his lips around them completely. 

   "You a dirty girl?" He asks after he pops his fingers out. He starts to crawl up your body, caging you with his arms. 

   You loathe the fact that he's still fully clothed, while you lay completely bare beneath him. 

   You just nod, eyes wide and mouth agape as he presses his lips between your breasts. 

   His eyes flick up to yours, eyes full of sin and depravity. 

   "Whose dirty girl?" He asks against your skin. 

   "Yours, I'm your dirty girl." You say with a weak, unreliable voice. 

   "That's fuckin' right." He kisses a trail up to your throat, under your jaw, and finally your lips. 

   "Don't forget that." He whispers before hopping up to his feet far too quickly. 

   He always does this, rips you apart then saunters away like it's nothing. 

   You two have been going at it for months now, a very tense friends with benefits relationship. More benefits than friends, though. You occasionally share a laugh, help each other with homework when you have time, but most of the time you just fuck. 

   "Where are you going?" You ask, still reeling as your nerves twitch and fire. 

   "Boys night, I'm late." He flips his hair a little before winking at you. 

   "Don't look so heartbroken, I'll be back later." He laughs as he pinches your cheek. 

   "I'm not heartbroken, fuck off." You smack his hand away, pulling a blanket around you before you roll off the bed and walk to the bathroom. 

   "Katsuki's coming over later, don't bother." You quip as you round the corner. 

   "Oh I forgot, he's a big fan of those sloppy seconds then, yeah?" 

   Bastard. A big part of your arrangement is the no strings attached part, meaning you can both fuck anyone else, as long as you let each other know about it. 

   Katsuki Bakugo had been trying to get into your pants for months. You'd finally gone down on him the other night during a movie, successfully blowing his mind.

   You'd told the poor fool you'd never sucked a dick before, just to make him feel special. His ego didn't need to boost, but he sure got off to the thought of being the first person to fuck your pretty little mouth. 

   "He's a big fan of a good fuck." You snap as you turn the shower on.

   Shoto comes up to lean against the door frame behind you, looking absolutely delicious in his joggers and his adidas shirt. 

   "You two have that in common then." He smiles wolfishly before slapping your ass. 

   "Make sure you wash the sheets before he comes, you made a pretty big mess." He calls out to you before strolling out of your dorm room. 

   You roll your eyes and huff as you drop the blanket and step into the shower.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

   "I'm not fucking lying, she was such a whore about it, but she said she'd never done it before." Bakugo explains to a laughing Kirishima and Denki. 

   "Who's a whore?" Shoto waltzes into the common room where the rest of the boys wait for him. 

   "That cute chick you're always studying with, apparently she's got a freaky side." Sero chuckles, only making Bakugo turn a brighter shade of red. 

   "Oh yeah?" Shoto raises his eyebrows, glancing at Bakugo. 

   "She's fucking insane, best blowjob I've ever had. Not that you would know what that's like, icey hot." Bakugo sneers, arms crossing as he reclines into his chair.

   "Dude, there's no way she was that good if she'd never done it before." Denki says, leaning forward as he shakes his head.

   "I'm serious you sparky asshole, she said it was her first time!" Bakugo snarls. 

   Shoto can't help the bark of the laugh that leaves him, he runs his hands through his hair, then notices just how wet his chin feels. 

   "I think she might've lied." He sighs as he wipes his chin with the back of his hand, pulling it away to see some of your slick shining on the skin. 

   "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Bakugo grumbles, glaring at Shoto. 

   "You can tell dude, you've seen the way she walks into a room." He explains, so full of himself after spending the last half hour between your legs. 

   "What, did she fuck you too?" Bakugo stands up, chest puffed up as he strides towards Shouto. 

   "Nah." He sighs as sinks into one of the chairs, ignoring Bakugo's advances.

   "I fucked her." Shoto grins up at Bakugo, every jaw in the room drops before the rest of the boys start to hoot and laugh. 

   Kirishima jumps up to hold Bakugo back as he spews profanities at cocky Shouto. Sero and Denki are beside themselves, wheezing clapping as Shouto sits and enjoys the chaos he's created. 

   It's safe to say you won't be seeing Katsuki tonight, but you will be seeing a lot of Shoto.

[xuxishortcake]

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your boyfriend kyungsoo starts to get a little handsy with you while you’re out with friends . you take advantage of his sudden neediness & have some fun with him.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 : dom!reader sub!kyungsoo smut , cursing, pegging , femdom, cunninglus, spanking

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.3k

ok, so as a kyungsoo bias, I feel like there's a lack in ffs about him at times, especially him being subby. so um, here's my secret fantasy of pegging a needy kyungsoo ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) lol enjoy! feedback is greatly appreciated <3

⳾*⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅*❀⑅* ❀⑅*❀⑅*⳾

you & kyungsoo were out at a nearby cafe with a few of his members. you were all sat around the biggest table in there. you could tell kyungsoo was incredibly needy today by the way he kept looking at you, clinging to your arm as you joked around with baekhyun & xiumin. you rubbed his hand, continuing on with the conversation, but kyungsoo wanted more than just that. his legs were bouncing, feet tapping, waiting in anticipation for you to notice the forming hard-on between his thighs. he let go of your arm after a bit & sneakily moved his hand down to caress your thigh, squeezing it here & there. you looked down briefly but didn't say anything to him, which made him pout in frustration. he just wanted to leave so bad & have you finally take care of him. getting bolder, he snaked his hand under the skirt you were wearing & gently tugged onto the lace of your underwear. he moved downwards, his fingers ghosted over your clit. you gave a side eyed glance over to him, with eyes that said 'you're gonna get it tonight. ' he quickly removed his hands off of you, a little bit in fear, a little bit more turned on & tried to distract himself by talking to jongin. twenty minutes later, everyone was saying goodbye to one another & kyungsoo was finally excited to get some sort of relief, pants pressed way too tightly against his painful boner. he hurried onwards to where your apartment was at; you were taking all the time you liked, maybe walking even a little slower on purpose just to tease him. once you finally made it to the entrance of your apartment(which felt like an eternity to kyungsoo), you pulled out your keys very, very slowly & turned them into the key hole. once you were inside, you pushed him against the wall.

"what did you think you were doing?" you said in a bit of an angry tone. "you know any of them could have seen that, right?"

"I don't care. I needed your help. " he replied trying to grind his hips up into you for some sort of friction. you stopped him though.

"oh? don't care? well, I hope you don't care about the punishment you will be receiving now because you were being so damn handsy." you said as you walked into your bedroom, kyungsoo trailing behind you excitedly like a puppy.

"I want you fully stripped. now." you commanded. he wasted no time in shimmying out of his clothes. you could see how hard he was, cock swollen at the tip in a beautiful shade of crimson with precum dripping out of it. it made you lick your lips at the sight.

"sit" you pointed towards the floor & kyungsoo immediately sat down, eyes looking up at you with anticipation. it wasn't everyday that you were able to dom him, with him being primarily dom himself, so you wanted to take this rare opportunity & have the most with it. you started to strip yourself until you were only in your underwear. you slowly unclapsed your bra, letting it fall to the floor. you turned around & bent over, ass in perfect view with only the thin & lacy semi transparent underwear you had on just barely covering anything.

"you like what you see?" you asked seductively,smiling. you put both hands on your ass, slapping your cheeks. he gulped & nodded his head quickly.

you hooked your fingers around the waist band & started to slowly peel off your underwear, kyungsoo not taking his eyes off you, not even for a second. you turned around, shimmying out of your underwear & walked closer to his face.

"if you want less of a severe punishment, eat me out like a good boy." you said as you placed a foot onto the bed behind him so he could get to you.

he didn't waste any time in eating you out. his hands wrapped around your thighs, so he was able to keep you in position. he ate you out as if he was a starved man, drinking in every single bit of you. his tongue lapped over your wet folds & then delve into your pussy. his nose was rubbing against your clit as his tongue dove deeper & deeper into you. you held onto his hair & he groaned against you, sending out a lovely vibration. you could feel yourself reaching your climax, legs starting to tremble. this only motivated kyungsoo to go faster, putting all his attention to your clit. you finally came, squirting all over his mouth.he lapped up all of you, not letting any go to waste. he was trying to push his limits & continue going. you pulled him away from your pussy, tilting his head up to stare into his lust filled eyes & look at his mouth, glistening with your juices.

"on the bed." you panted out, still slightly shaken from that astounding orgasm. a little cocky smile was forming on his lips as he laid onto the bed.

"get on all fours." you said walking over to your dresser to rummage around for your double strapon & lube. you returned to him, inserting the dildo inside of you & climbing on top of him. you spread out his cheeks, squirting lube onto his hole. you rubbed the tip of your pseudo dick against his ass, barely dipping it in before pulling back out.

"ugh, d-dont tease me." he whined out, precum leaking out of his cock & onto the bed.

"what do you say then?"

"pl-please miss."

you finally went inside of him. he let out a deep, guttural groan. you gave him a little time to adjust before starting to thrust into him. you lay a spank on his ass. he letout a squeak, which turned into a soft low moan. you lay another, & another, drawing out a wonderful mixture of high & low sounds. his right cheek was turning into a pretty shade of scarlet; you could see the imprint of your hand on him. you pressed your chest against his back & pounded deeper into him. you moved your hand to his underside & started to pump his cock, thrusting & pumping in a rhythm. he was really a moaning mess now, his knuckles were white,clutching desperately at the bed sheets. probably all of your neighbors knew what was going on between the sounds of skin slapping & the way he kept repeating your name followed by a lewd sound coming from his mouth.

"oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm so close." he panted out, trembling beneath you.

"don't come yet." you said sweating, pounding into him harder than ever.

you could feel a second orgasm coming over you, kyungsoo was shaking profusely beneath you, voice starting to crack & eyes brimmed with tears.

"oh shit, " you moaned out. "I'm about to come again baby."

"c-can I too miss? AH pl-please?" he begged out.

"yes, you may. "

kyungsoo whined loudly, shooting ropes. you came right after, moaning against him. you rode it out together, now thrusting & pumping sloppier with cum overflowing from your hand. you pulled out, took out your strap & flopped right down next to him. he turned over, he was trying to recover his breath.

"holy fuck, that was amazing." he let out, smiling over at you." we need to do this wayyy more. "

"well I'm down for it if you're down baby." you said, pressing a gentle kiss onto his damp forehead. “ I hope I didn’t go too hard on you..”

"no , you didn’t. it’d be worth it anyway if you had. “ he paused. “you're goddamn beautiful." he said as he kissed you.

"you are too love." you replied, pulling him in for another kiss & wrapping your arms around his torso. the two of you stayed like that for the rest of the day.

[phoenixblack89]

Sneak Peek Sunday!

I know. I know. I'm terrible. I wanted to get so much writing done this weekend being hubby and child free but it never happened. Hubby is a pest and wouldn't stop video calling me and then the neighbours were being very loud and I couldn't focus. But nevermind.

Smut warning!

@autocon23 @lilythemadqueen @writingdeadangel @browneyes528 @darylsgirl @boondoctorwho

A quiet knock came at the door and she called come in. Daryl entered, blushing crazily and keeping his eyes down.

"Here's ya clothes. Got them from ya tent." He muttered, cheeks and the tips of his ears a beautiful shade of pink. Don't look. Don't look. Don't look. He thought over and over. Merle's voice in his head saying the opposite. Phoenix let out a stifled giggle and brushed her hands over his as she took the pile from him, placing them gently on the vanity below the mirror. Daryl glanced up quickly as her back was turned and caught sight of the beautiful Japanese style phoenix tattoo on her left shoulder. The majority of it hidden underneath the towel wrapped around her body. The towel hugged tightly to her curves and left little to the imagination. Daryl licked his lips as desire rose causing a reaction in his groin at the sight. A moan escaped Daryl's lips as she turned. The towel barely covered her chest and he stepped closer, looking down at her lustfully.

His hand reached for her cheek slowly as she bit her lip.

"I'm sorry I hurt ya." He whispered as he inched closer to her. He could feel the steam coming off her damp skin as he stood in front of her. His head fell forward to lean against her's as they stared into each others eyes, their breaths mingling in the small space between their faces. "Please forgive me."

She nodded and he leaned closer, brushing his lips slowly over hers as his hands found her waist tugging her gently to him. He didn't care of the towel's dampness against his dry clothes and skin. He was lost in the feeling of her lips moving in tandem with his.

Her freshly showered skin on her arms brushing against his as her hands found their way into his hair and around his neck. His lips trailed along her chin and down to the sweet spot on her neck he knew drove her heart rate racing. Sucking lightly and biting little nips against it he groaned, hard cock crushing her hips into the vanity behind her. She gasped as his hand slid between the edges of the towel at her side, fingers trailing roughly over the smooth skin he found.

Fingers dancing up her ribs to gently squeeze her breast as she panted in desire. He pulled his head up and roamed his eyes over her features. Her cheek oozed a little drop of blood from the injuries he'd caused. His heart clenched in guilt as he leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses to the stitches as his hand moved lower and lower beneath her towel. He paused at the apex of her hip and bit his lip, tilting his head to the side slightly. "Say it? Say ya forgive me?"

"Daryl..." she sighed his fingers striking along her hipbone softly, thumb brushing against the curls between her thighs. "Of course I forgive you. Do you forgive me? I shot first after all."

He chuckled low in his chest and pulled her in for another kiss as his fingers reached their desired location. She gasped into his mouth at the feeling of his thick broad fingers sliding along her folds. His lips returning to her neck, sucking and kissing as he slowly spread her folds, seeking out the moisture gathering there. He growled and ran a finger slowly through her slick, flicking it slowly up and down as his cock throbbed against his jeans. She gave a loud moan as he brushed over her sensitive bud and she felt him smile against her neck before he pushed her up onto the vanity and dropped to his knees, pulling his hand away from her core. "Daryl?"

He put his finger to his lips and sucking on it before pushing her thighs open and putting them over his shoulders. A bright red blush spread across her face and chest at the sight of Daryl Dixon, redneck hunter extraordinaire on his knees, looking like he was going to devour her. He smiled up at her then kissed his way from her knee into her thighs and higher.

"Holy shit!"

Her chest heaved as his tongue plunged into her folds licking roughly up to her clit. His tongue flicked hard and fast against it as his lips sucked on it. Her legs shook as his skilled appendage worked her so well. Her hand found its way to his hair and tugged it. He let out a pained moan as his own stitches pulled sharply from her fingers.

He grazed his teeth along her clit in revenge. He glanced up at her as he slowly ran a finger around her slick hole. He raised an eyebrow in question and she nodded her head. He smiled around her clit and pushed in slowly.

Fuck she's tight! He thought as her walls gripped his finger like a vice. Pumping it in and out slowly he watched as her chest heaved. Her walls twitched against his knuckles and he pulled his finger out. Her moan of discontent sounded, as he sucked her clit, twirling his tongue around faster and faster, turned to a gasp of surprise as he plunged two fingers into her twisting, curling and pumping faster and faster. "Oh God... Daryl... Oh fuck...." she moaned, every muscle in her body tensing as she climaxed on his fingers and tongue. Daryl smirked in satisfaction as he worked her through her orgasm.

Daryl opened his eyes, hand dripping with his own cum. He never meant to do this especially in her tent, definitely not after his dream last night.

It tainted it somehow.

She'd been so sweet and caring in his dream.

But the sight of her lacy underwear had gotten him so hard it couldn't be ignored. He knew nothing like that could ever happen. Hell, he didn't know how to make a girl cum with his tongue. His only experiences had been quick fucks behind the bars with sluts begging for a quickie or his own hand. He didn't know how to truly please a woman. He knew how to get a quick fuck sure. But he didn't just want a quick fuck with Phoenix. He wanted to make her moan and cum over and over again before he did.

Fuck Darlene you turning into a sissy!? I told ya enough tricks to get a girl moaning! Merle's voice said as he cleaned his hand on the red rag hanging from his pocket. He put his dick back inside his jeans and gathered up the clothes he'd come originally to collect for her. Hopefully she was still in the shower and he could ask Maggie or Beth or Patricia to give her them.

Gotta stop fucking your hand to her he mussed she ain't even got a tattoo on her back. Where the fuck you think that up from?

You know exactly where that came from Daryl. That god damn dream you've been having most of your life. He sighed as he spotted Maggie walking up to Glenn in the space near the chicken coop and Beth hanging washing with Carol.

Damn suck it up boy Merle laughed in his mind.

***

Phoenix peeked around the door and wrapped the towel tighter. Where was Daryl with her clothes?

"Maggie? Beth?" She called out, hoping one of the girls was near by. She shook her head and closed the door, sitting on the closed lid of the toilet and sighed. Dammit Dixon what's taking you so long!

She heard the groan of the stairs and stood up, opening the door a little and peeking out. She smiled as Daryl made his way towards her, fidgeting with the clothes in his arms and blushing slightly. She stuck her head out further causing Daryl to jump slightly.

"About time DD! Freezing my nips off here." She laughed trying to ease the air of uncertainty around the two. Daryl held the pile out and she stepped out to get them. Towel securely wrapped covering every inch. She smiled lightly and turned. Daryl's jaw dropped. There in wonderful shades of orange, red, black and yellows was a giant phoenix tattoo on her shoulder.

Just like the one in his dreams and sexual fantasy....