#i love how her dark skin contrasts pastel colors especially

[kageygreye-skies]

gave venus and felicia an outfit swap!! venus’s outfit is a little big on felicia so she looks a lil silly.. not to mention the fact that her feet are backwards oops lol.. but venus looks so good in yellow, i love this fit on her!! i also gave her the belt that came from the valentines howliday clawd doll lol.

[grugruel]

The Girl Who Cried Cowboy

Parings: dbf!cowboy!bucky x f!reader

NSFW/MDNI

Masterlist

Summary: When drinking too much at one of her father's summer parties, she realises just how inappropriate her feelings are for her fathers best friend. And he has to drive her home.

Word count: 3.2

Warnings: cowboy hat, rough sex, pinv sex, kintchen-counter sex (woooh), doggy, creampie, praise, strong feelings, "I love you", mutual pining, tension, pet names (sweetheart, girl, ma'am, darlin', woman), slight angst, sundress kink, hair pulling.

Low chatter and calm music soothed her, tuning her mind to familiar nostalgia as she faded into memory of old summer nights.

Nights much like this one.

The singing birds, the perfectly temperatured air, and the warm kisses from the last rays of the setting sun.

Her parents' big grass-clad backyard in which she sometimes slept, like now, she enjoyed the infiltrating clovers that softened the ground beneath her.

And the blue open sky that stretched above her like a lustriously painted ceiling. It was deep at this hour, but not dark. Even so, it slowly lightened as it merged into the pastel colors of the horizon.

Her world whirled, stretching and contracting mildly as a slight buzz from her many emptied beers took a pleasant hold of her senses. She smiled, putting the half spilled bottle to her lips once again. Not minding one bit that she had toppled over, rather just loving the way the grass tickled her skin as her sheer sundress bunched high on her thighs. Especially enjoying the way it moved against her nipples, now very glad she'd opted out of wearing a bra today–

'You sure know how to catch my attention, sweetheart.' A voice mused.

She faced its source but already knew who it belonged to, its presence only making her night better. He'd always been her favorite out of her dad's friends.

The sun painted her face a golden orange, as she turned toward him. A tall, blurry figure stood by her side, she squinted, and a handsome cowboy materialised. The shapes forming him steadied. She could make out the gruff hands around his belt buckle, his face, and the cowboy hat on his head. Which was busy shielding his eyes from the sun, their intent gaze observing her from beneath its rim.

She smiled knowingly. 'Buck!' She erupted, throwing her arms upward as if to hug him from the ground, spilling beer all around her in the process. 'Join me.' She giggled, and her arms fell to pat the ground at her sides.

The cowboy shook his head with a chuckle. He had never been able to say no to her.

Her bare, bent knees lulled against his lap as she moved closer to his relaxed form. She took another swig of beer, then pointed at the sky above them.

Towering over their laying forms, the sky held a full moon in its mixing colors, the suns reflection only illuminating its silvery brightness and amplifying the contrasts.

'Ain't it pretty?'

-

His wandering eyes roamed her face, the alcohol fueled blush that adorned it, and the strands of wild hair that framed her like a canvas. He wanted noting more than to push them behind her ears so he could admire her in full. He willed his eyes from traveling south. He could not, it was unfair to her and her father.

-

He hummed. 'Sure is.'

She shut her eyes, attempting to collect herself. It must be the alcohol, surely. But she hadn't even had that much to drink, had she? She placed the hat on her head properly. Forgetting herself entierly.

She faced him again, meeting his eyes. He watched the blush expand across her face as she realised it was her that he was talking about. The girl, suddenly shy. Grabbed his hat from his head and covered her giggling face. His charm was dangerous, she couldnt help herself around him. Her face poked out from beneath the hat, eyes studying him carefully as he looked back up at the moon. The colors of the sky and the green of the grass running parallel to his profile. His forehead, nose, lips, and chin placed perfectly in between them, running like a mountain range in a horizon. She got a strong urge the kiss his perfectly handsome face– ugh, fuck. . .

'Buck?'

He hummed.

'Could you drive me home?' She just needed to sleep it off, these feeling would be gone in the morning. She was sure.

He looked back at her. '. . .'Course darlin.' His eyes wandered over his hat, on her head. His lips tightened into a line as he cleared his throat.

The girl nodded. 'Can you tell dad? I hate to leave the party early, but I think I over did the drinkin'. . .' She lied. She wasn't sick, nor drunk, drunk. She just felt too guilty to speak with her dad directly when these types of thoughts ran rampid about his best friend.

Her world devolved into streaks of color as he pulled her to her feet. The booze affected body betrayed her as the footing failed beneath her feet– she collided with his chest, and his quick hands shot to her waist– catching her before she took another tumble. 'Easy there.' His drawl in full effect.

He laughed, but nodded. 'He'll understand, im sure. Your father's a wise man.' And grabbed her shoulder, and squeezing it reassuringly. Then stood, and held his hand out for her to take.

Everything whirled around her, everything except him. She could see him perfectly clear. The pair locked eyes, enjoying the feeling of his big hands molding to her waist. Something tugged on them, pulling them closer to each other. Lips brushing, noses touching. She felt dizzy, the pair of them hiding their faces under the brim of his hat. It somehow felt easier. Hands slipping to her hips, squeezing. Their heavy breathing, drinking each other in, and the squeeking of the patio door– in horror they pulled off of each other, akwardness seeping into the space between them. She kept her eyes on the ground as she realised she was wearing his hat. She'd put it on, hadn't she? Oh. . . Fuck– but she had no time to worry about its insinuations right now, and quickly removed it, pushing it back into Bucky's hands.

'Ah, there you both are!' It was her dad, walking in a straight line toward them.

She prayed he hadn't seen anything. As everyone had moved the party inside when the night began to fall.

He slapped a hand on buckys shoulder, greeting him happily.

Thank god, she sighed in relief.

But there was an akward silence, where none of them said much of anything for a second.

'Whats goin' on, who died?' Her father joked, a dry chuckle following it. But a tinge of true uncertainty lingered in his voice as he looked at them with skeptical eyes.

'Im just not feelin' to good.' She scrambled to explain, as bucky scratched his neck, not managing to come up with a good excuse himself. 'I was thinkin' of headin' home. Buck'll drive me.'

Her father gave her a slanted smile and ruffled her hair. 'Yeah? To much to fast?'

She nodded, a faint smile on her lips. 'Sorry.'

He tilted his head, searching her eyes. 'Dont apologize sweetheart. Its ok. I'll see ya' later, yeah?'

She nodded again, and he kissed her on top of her head.

She loves her dad, and to prove it she'd almost kissed his best friend. Shame gnawed at her, she couldn't do that to him.

He turned to Bucky. 'You comin' back later then?'

'I'm not sure.' Bucky dared a flicker of a glance in her direction, and lowered his voice. 'Gotta get 'er home first, make sure shes alright.'

Her father nodded, seamingly appreciating the gesture. If he only knew.

'But you'll notice if I turn up.' Bucky laughed, attempting a joke to defuse the situation and playfully hit her father on the arm.

He smiled. 'Well, alright, good then. Drive safe.' The men gave each other a short embrace. 'Thank you, Buck. You're a good friend.' She heard her father whisper as they patted each other on the back warmly.

Guilt, shame, neither could begin to describe what she was feeling. She'd need to invent a new word for it.

The walk to the truck was quiet. The only proof of the life altering almost-kiss was the comforting hand he placed on her back, and now held much more meaning than that in which an old friend once had.

The sun disappeared beyond the distant treeline. A big wheatfield separated it from the dirtroad they found themselves driving down. Trees lined its path, their leafy crowns casting a high overhang above them.

Oh, how stunning, but the window would not wind down. Frustrated, she pushed it repeatedly. Her mind was not wrapping around the fact that it just wouldn't work, pure stubbornness egging her on. As she dared not ask Bucky for help. They'd been riding in silence ever since the encounter with her dad–

'You feelin' any better?' He asked, clearing his throat. The anxious avoidance of speaking had created a croak in it.

She had too much on her mind. She was overheating, just wanting some air. 'I'm fine, just a little warm.' The button was taunting her, no matter how hard she pushed it.

'Just– slow down, doll.' Bucky reached over her seat to unlock the door, then pushed the button to lower the window. Oh. . .

Sweet relief, she leaned her head against the frame of the open window. The freshness of nature and its many scents rolled into the truck in waves of pure air, clearing her mind of what it could. But as it mixed and matched with Buckys own, his perfume and masculine musk, rubbed her senses just right. It began working in the opposite effect.

'Thank you.' She spared him a glance, smiling faintly. Immidietly regretting it as she was reminded of how good he looked in the hat.

His hand fell from the door to her knee. It was supposed to be a harmless gesture, one he'd done may times before. 'You're welcome, sweetheart.'

Oh. . But this time, everything slowed, shes sure of it. Flames that should not have sparked inside her were now, in fact, raging. She screwed her eyes shut. Damp breeze, floweres, grass, birds. . . She tried to focus, to think of something else, but– hand, his hand. Moving in slow-motion, squeezing the flesh above her knee. Then, the loss of his touch.

Her eyes shot open, and suddenly, time hastened again– she grabbed his hand and without even thinking, replaced it higher on her thigh. Her eyes widened in realisation, and she felt the cowboys eyes bore into her. God, it's hard to breathe all of a sudden.

'Girl. . .' There laid warning in his tone. They were headed into dangerous territory. Yet without heeding his own warning, his fingers dug into her upper thigh, eyes landing on the pushed up skirt of her dress. He grabbed it between his fingertips and pulled it down, exhaling a big breath as if it took everything in him not to do the opposite.

She shook her head in compressed motions, the feeling of his skin was heavenly. His hand alone, without touching any crucial parts of her, set her aflame. Hesitation still lingering in her body as she fought her thoughts.

The car screeched to a halt, they'd arrived at her house. Fuck, thank, god.

She reached for the door, realising in horror that she still held onto his hand. As she made to shake herself free, he entwined his fingers with hers and sighed, knowing full well why she was in such a rush. 'Hold on now, darlin', slow down.' He met her eyes. 'Let me help you down, at least.'

Breathe, she willed herself, and nodded to him. Waiting impatiently for Bucky to open her door. Her world spinning, the real problem was that it simply wasn't alcohol induced anymore.

The door opened, and he gripped her waist, lifting her out in a swift motion. Her skin– well, everything tingled at his touch. He set her down, on steady feet, and unsteady mind. 'We should talk about this.' He tried, following her as she marched toward her door.

'About what? There's nothing to talk about.'

'Darlin'. . .'

'Stop.' She whipped around to face him. 'Just stop. I'm not your darlin', 'N I'm sure as hell not your sweetheart.' She hissed and continued walking. The words hurt her as much as they must've hurt him. God, the walk to her house felt never ending.

'I just– I care for you sweeth–' He stopped, footsteps no longer sounding behind her. '. . .'N I love your father too. I've known him for most of my life. Feeling this way 'bout ya' doesn't come for free.'

Too? He said "too" didn't he?

She turned around. 'Too?' Her knees felt weak, her mind muddled by conflicting thoughts of her father and the man in front of her. And he was quite a sight, the picture of a cowboy in fact. Putting weight on one leg, he held his belt, and his hat covered his face as he tilted it down in silent brooding. How she imagined all cowboys did.

He sighed. 'Well–' shoulders shrugging. 'What'ya expect, beautiful as you are. Inside 'n out.' He walked up to her. His hand reached for her face. She should back away. She knew she should, but her feet wouldn't move. The backs of his fingers stroked strands of hair from her face, thumb caressing her cheekbone, his touch gentler than any man before him.

He laid his forehead against hers. 'I love y–'

She kissed him. He could not utter those words. Not yet. This was not the time.

Electricity shocked her nervous system. She could feel his hunger as he cupped her face, deeping the kiss. Yet, his needy lips slowed themselves for her sake, her uncertainty.

She pulled free, gasping for breath as she had forgotten it was a necessity and grabbed his hand, leading him to the house. Eyes looking back at him, speaking more than words ever could. It was just the matter of interpreting them.

He stood leaning against her kitchen counter, observing her as she sauntered toward him. Dress billowing around her thighs. Was this really happening?

He reached for her, laying his hands at her waist and taking the fabric of her dress between his fingers, pulling her toward him. 'I really do, you know.'

Her hand reached up to comb through his hair. 'Save it.' She smiled, her other hand sliding over her dress, stopping at her waist where the bow that tied the dress together was. Slowly, as he kept his eyes locked on hers. She pulled on the string, letting it come undone, and her dress fell open.

Bucky made a sound between a gasp and a moan, barely daring to take his eyes from hers. 'I'm at your mercy, sweet girl. Tell me what to do.' He breathed, eager fingers waiting for her approval.

His words were setting butterflies to flight. Her free hand grabbed his, and led it between the fabric of her dress and her body. Laying it atop her breast. 'Touch me.' She whispered.

Shivers, shivers, and goosebumps spread in waves over her chest as his fingers came in contact with her soft flesh.

She advanced, and he obliged her request as his other hand ran down her side, snaking around her back and grabbing her ass to pull her closer against his chest.

'Please. . .' He pleaded. 'I need to feel you.' His hands squeezed her breast, producing a whimper from her lips. 'Taste you.' He leaned forward, brushing his lips against hers, lining her bottom lip with his tongue. 'Anything, anything you're willin' to give me.'

Her brows furrow in tortured pleasure. Waves of pressure inside her that had no outlet, nowhere to go except to her core and mind. Her thoughts were mere static at this point, all of them reduced to neurons.

'Take all of me. . . All at once.' She exhaled, the air that they exchanged with one another merged into one unisome breath.

A pained grunt. 'You sure?' He grabbed his hat to remove it.

She grabbed his hand, stopping. 'You better keep that hat on,' she warned, then nodded. 'And, im sure.' She looked into his eyes. 'Now. . . fuck. me.' She demanded.

With that, he grinned and spun her around, pressing her up against the counter. Hips colliding with the countertop in a hard thud, but she did not care. All she wanted was him, and for this short moment when they were together, truly together, her father could be damned.

His hands ran up the side of her thighs, hiking her skirt onto his wrist, and flipped it over her ass. She groaned in pain. 'Can't wait any longer, hurry up.'

'Easy girl. . ' He slowed her as he tugged her pretty lace panties to the side, moaning at the sight of her. 'Stunnin'. . '

Her mind fogged, she disappeared for a moment, not really thinking about what was happening until she heard his belt buckle and then, finally. She felt him.

His hand moved to her hip as the other aligned his tip with her entrance, and without any more thinking and delaying, he pushed inside.

A mix between a whimper and a moan pushed its way out of her lungs. 'Fuck, yes.'

Her hands braced against the countertop, protecting her hipbones against the hard surface as he began thrusting.

But it wasn't enough. 'C'mon cowboy, harder.' A moan and breath combined into one.

His hand slid up her back, unintentionally tickling her the entire way. He grabbed her hair and circled it around his fist, then held her steady as he pushed himself into her even rougher.

'Mmmh. .' She hummed. But she needed more. She'd waited so long for this that she'd be damned if there wouldn't be bruises to remember him by. 'You can do better. . Mhh- fuck.' She moaned, struggling to get her words out as he bent over her, his thrusts reaching even deeper. He leveled his head with hers, and bit into her shoulder. His blissfull muffled moans made right at her ear, and along with them came the hot puffs of breath and the dirty sounds of slapping skin. Everything scratched the nervous center in her brain, just right. 'Yeah. . . Like that, mhm. . Show me how much you, uh-huh. –need me.' She managed, her words stuttering and stumbling.

'Feels so good.' He groaned. 'My darlin' girl.'

She no longer protested. She was his, in every sense of the word. And she loved it

'Yours, just yours.' She breathed.

'Good girl.' He moaned, obviously approving of her recognition.

She could not take much more. '. . 'M close Buck.'

He nodded, his forehead resting against her shoulder. She could barely make out his nodding against her shoulder in response. He must be close, too.

'I need to see ya' girl– wanna see ya'. . . See ya' cum.'

She couldn't answer. She only moaned in approval. But it was enough for him. His swollen member had her walls clenching, sucking and squelching around his member. Pulling him closer and closer to the edge.

He pulled out of her, spun her around, and lifted her by the hips onto the counter. His strength would never, not turn her on. And without missing a beat, slammed back into her again. 'Fuck! Just like that cowboy.' She cried. Their lips meeting in needy, rushed movements as they both approached their climax. Knots tightening, pressure building, and pressure realising.

In blinding hot waves, pleasure coursed through her as her orgasm finally arrived. 'Oh, girl. .' he moaned, sounding close to a whimper as it was uttered against her lips and into her mouth. 'My good, good girl.'

Oh, she wanted to cry. She wanted to cry so badly. But Bucky got there first, as he too came. Tears of joy and pleasure fell down his cheeks as powerful spurts of seed filled her core, and he collapsed to his knees. Throwing his arms around her hips, his head lulled into her lap.

'I love you.' He murmured, kissing her thighs in slow, sloppy kisses. Lovingly holding his arms tightly around her, afraid she'd disappear. He uttered, 'I love you.' Over and over again, between and during his kisses, it did not matter to him. He just needed to say it, and for her to hear it.

She watched him with awe, how could she never have known, or felt– not even seen a glimpse of the man before her, a man that worshipped her in this way. She ran her hands through his hair, scratching his scalp and nape soothingly as she smiled. Heart filled to the brim, for him.

'I love you too, Buck.' She whispered. 'Love you terribly, I think have for a long time, cowboy.'

He looked up at her, his chin resting on her knees as she slumped back against the cabinets, both catching their breaths. 'You'll be the death of me, woman.' Another tear rolled down his cheek, but there was no sorrow. Only proof of powerful stimulation, along with long pent-up feelings and needs.

She jumped off of the counter. 'Need ya' once more, before you head back.'

He grabbed her wrist and kissed his way up her forearm from his place on the floor. 'Yes, ma'am.'

She laid an index finger under his chin, tilting his face upward so their eyes could meet. 'Good. . .' She lifted the hat from his head, and placed it on herself with a smile. '. . .'Cause I still gotta ride ya'.'

[meteor752]

Oh lawd they been through some shit

So, I’ve done their designs when their parents were still alive on DL. I’ve done their designs of when they joined Empires. I’ve done their designs for when they visited Hermitcraft. I gave them lil Christmas outfits. I showed what they would look like in the future. I even made them as gosh darn villains

But there’s one period of their lives, that I haven’t shown you. I’ve talked about it plenty, even wrote a fic about it, but you’ve never been shown it visually

Double life when their parents had died

Twenty years, of just starving to death repeatedly for the babs

Let’s show it

Oh and btw tw for like, some minor body horror, gauntness and starvation, blood, injuries, and all that jazz. Will be properly tagged

(Also, I cannot express how fun these designs were to make. I spent hours on every single one and it was just such a delight to make them)

Liana

I think I’ve stated this before, but Liana took some heavy damage to her left eye during this time, resulting in her needing a monocle to see properly, thus the eyepatch. Dirty and ripped clothes (those will be very common across every design), and fresh scars that can still be seen in her later designs, just more faded. The missing shoe is also intentional, as that is the foot she later looses to frostbite. It had very little protection against the elements. Her wings being their normal bright colors is also a fun little thing, as even during her most horrid distress, Liana found the time to preen. Idk what’s going on with the pose, but I’m assuming broken ribs. It just looked fun

Wes

The famished look actually the most unnatural for him, because he’s usually so bulky and large. Moss coat fresh and clean, most important thing for him. Newly broken horn, probably a month or so into the development. I actually have very little to say about Wes’ design here compared to everyone else’s, cause like it’s the one I’m probably the most dissatisfied with. It still looks fine and such, but it’s just a bit basic I guess. Idk. I still like the hair, especially the dyed part

Gertrude

Could have gone with the same kinda vibe for her as everyone else, but I realized that I actually haven’t shows Weretrude. This right here isn’t full on Weretrude, more like halfway through transformation, cause I still wanted her to like, look like her ya know. But yeah girl is fully out of it. This is probably not too long after the end of dl, before the game mechanics stopped. When the passing of time kinda stopped, as did the monthly full moons because it never became night. So yeah, the one advantage to their miserable situation

Johnny

The first design, and the reason I did all of these. Johnny was always the one closest to his parents, so their death tore him up the most, to the point where he never left their grave. Moss and vines started to grow on him eventually, and animals and bugs found home in his hair and wounds. So yeah, bad time for lil country bumpkin boy.

Jassy

Ngl, Jassy looks cool as fuck. The sunken in eyes paired with the startling green of her irises, her dirty white hair and mask covering most of her face, her clothes, the fucking contrast in her skin between the light and the dark sunken in parts. I didn’t even intend for that but I just loved it so much that I kept it. Also since this is before she started to form her own identity, she still has the classic Kakashi mask.

Jekiv

Mans looks…honestly pretty normal. Like when everyone is just skin and bones, the actual zombie doesn’t look that zombie like. His skin and hair is a little dirtier, his pastel clothes are a lot dirtier, but yeah he faired pretty alright during this time. Since the first fic I ever wrote for the kids was Jekiv’s logbook, I felt it would only be fitting that he was writing in it for his pose. The quill is also made from one of Liana’s feathers, hence the quality condition. As mentioned in the logbook as well, Jekiv lost his hooded cloak a few years in to a spider, so his hair is on full display here. He hates it.

Novo

Absolutely obsessed with him actually. All of the kids have their own unique weapons (Liana her bow, Wes his war hammers, Gertrude her mace, Johnny his whip, Jassy her double daggers, Jekiv his scythe) except Novo, so I thought it would be only fitting for him to have something as well. And what’s better for him than a barbed bat? He probably still has it in the future, but it’s mostly being kept in his inventory. Difficult being a friendly bard if you keep a murder weapon on you at all times. Also, his cloak? It’s one of Pearl’s old dogs. Not Tilly of course (She was cremated), but one of her pups. Morbid? Yes absolutely. Fitting for my favorite weirdo? Yes absolutely.

[virtualsketchbook2023]

WRITING AND LOOKING - Virtual Analysis

Title: Pausias and Glycera

Date: 1612-15

Artist: Peter Paul Rubens and Osias Beer

Media: Oil on canvas

PHYSICAL QUALITIES

The painting I chose is ‘Pausias and Glycera’ by Peter Paul Rubens and Osias Beert. This painting is oil on canvas and was created in 1612-15. The dimensions of the painting are 203.2 cm for height and 194.3 cm wide. The colors used in this painting are several pastel colors such as yellow, pink, blue, and green. Not to mention, the vibrant red caught my attention. Other colors in this painting are white, several blue-gray shades, dark sea green, and skin tone colors such as pink, yellow, orange, tan, peach, brown, and black. The shapes used are geometric and biomorphic. Especially when painting the human form, circles, squares, rectangles, and triangles are mostly used. When painting nature like flowers and clouds, curved lines, and irregular angles (biomorphic) are used.  The subjects/themes represented are a romantic love because the painting demonstrates two people, ‘Pausias’ and ‘Glycera’ on a date or just simply enjoying the outdoors together. They are seated beside each other with the Pausias’s hand on the Glycera's shoulder. Both seem to be looking at a distant object with flowers around them. The painting was designed carefully with a strong emphasis on diagonal lines that guide the viewer’s gaze through the composition. The figures are arranged in a triangular formation, creating a sense of stability and harmony. The painting emphasizes a specific moment, making it timeless. It captures a rhythmic flow in the arrangement of figures, creating a sense of movement. Proportions are realistic, and contrast is used to highlight the dramatic lighting and shadows. The painting achieves unity through its cohesive color palette, composition, and theme. However, there is also variety in the expressions and poses of the figures, adding interest and emotional depth to the scene. 

THIS PART IS ALL ABOUT YOU:

This artwork makes me feel delighted because I find this painting aesthetically pleasing. I associate this painting with feelings of admiration, beauty, and a sense of harmony in the composition, color palette, and subject matter. When I first looked at this painting the flowers caught my eye. I thought that they were pretty and resonated with the ones I buy myself every month. The second thing that caught my attention were the two people in the painting. They made me feel how nice it must be to have someone special and share a cute experience outdoors. 

NOW RESEARCH:

The cultural background of the theme associated with ‘Pausias and Glycera’, comes from ancient Greek mythology and literature. Glycera was a courtesan, and Pausias was a painter. “Pausias was a famous fourth century Greek artist well known who was in love with a fellow townswoman named Glycera who was particularly gifted in the making of floral wreaths.” According to legend, Pausias fell in love with Glycera and decided to create a painting of her. In his attempt to capture her beauty, Pausias invented a new technique involving pigments mixed with hot wax. This story reflects the intertwining of art, love, and innovation in ancient Greek culture. “Pausias was the first to master an illusionistic painting technique. He employed his skill to reproduce Glycera's floral compositions with great exactness.” As for the artists Peter Paul Rubens and Osias Beert, both distinguished in their craft, each contributing distinctive creative ideas and approaches to the painting. Their collective skills and techniques harmoniously melded to create a cohesive masterpiece. “Because of the great expertise of Beert, the still-life specialist Rubens employed, it is likely that the friendly competition between Pausias and Glycera was repeated in modern terms”. Peter Paul Rubens was born on June 28, 1577, in Siegen, Westphalia (now Germany) and died May 30, 1640, in Antwerp, Spanish Netherlands (Now Belgium). “His canvases can be said to define the scope and style of High Baroque painting through their energy, earthy humanity and inventiveness. A devoutly religious man, a man of learning and a connoisseur of art and antiquities, he was also a man of the world who succeeded not only as an artist but as a respected diplomat in the service of Isabella and Albrecht of the Spanish Netherlands.” Peter Paul Rubens was a highly influential Flemish Baroque painter known for his extravagant style, dynamic compositions, and masterful use of color. “His mastery of color along with his knowledge of antiquity is seen particularly in his mythological paintings. Rubens became the most influential figure in Baroque art in Northern Europe.” He was not only a painter but also a diplomat and scholar. Rubens often worked with a large studio, and his prolific output included religious and mythological subjects, portraits, landscapes, and more. His work played a crucial role in the development of the Baroque style, characterized by dramatic lighting, emotional intensity, and a sense of movement. He was also “knighted by two monarchs and master of a successful workshop, Rubens became rich and famous in his own time. Having executed over 3,000 paintings, woodcuts and engravings of all types, he died the most respected artist of his time”. Meanwhile, Osias Beert was possibly born in the 1580s, in Antwerp, Spanish Netherlands (now Belgium) and died no later than 1624. He “was an outstanding Flemish painter of still life and flower pieces. Beert became a master in Antwerp in 1602 and also carried on a business as a cork merchant.” While the exact details of Beert’s life are not well-documented, there is some uncertainty about his birth and death dates. Beert’s paintings are characterized by their careful composition, use of light, and attention to realism. Overall, while both artists were active in the Baroque period and were from the Southern Netherlands, their styles and subjects differed significantly. Rubens was a versatile artist known for his grand historical and mythological paintings, while Beert specialized in the detailed and refined genre of still life. 

THINKING:

The movement that this work of art is associated with is from the Renaissance and Baroque period. The artwork reflects the artists’ skill, style, and creative vision. It reveals the artists; ability to capture emotions, depict relationships, and convey a narrative. The artists are trying to say that since that painting features Pausias and Glycera, it might express a story or emotion related to their relationship. It could also reflect the artists’ views on beauty, love, or other themes associated with the characters. The clarity of the message is communicated well because it depicts the Greek mythology story of Pausias and Glycera. 

THE LAST PART:

The reason I chose this is because it made me feel something and it resonated with me. For example, the flowers resonated with me because at least once a month I always buy myself flowers. I think that they are beautiful, and it makes me feel good. Not to mention, ‘Pausias and Glycera’ gave me a warm feeling because seeing a couple makes me wonder how nice it must be to have someone special. However, my informed opinion of the painting is that I can see how the visual aesthetics of the painting, including color palette, composition, and style, significantly contribute to its popularity. The painting certainly tells a compelling story, conveys strong emotions, and explores universal themes that could resonate with a broad audience. This painting definitely has artistic merit because it demonstrates the exceptional artistic skills, creativity, and technique of the artists. The painting also has an artistic reputation because the artists behind ‘Pausias and Glycera’ are well known and respected which contribute to the popularity of the painting. 

[honey-dewey]

Pink Bubblegum and Platform Boots

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/Reader

Word Count: 2,756

Warnings: None

Dio was a bad boy. A goth, as some would say. He’s proud of it, proud of his leather and spike studded aesthetic. The litany of tattoos and piercings. So of course, when he falls in love, he expects someone like him. He does not expect to fall head over platform heels in love with the pink Lolita princess who lives in the apartment next door

Dio Morrissey was not a kind guy. He was tough and silent and a definite lone wolf. His entire aesthetic was grimoires and black and leather. He was tattooed and pierced and never smiled. He was not a good person, and he knew that. 

Yet, there was one bright spot in his otherwise shadowed life. 

His neighbor. 

You were his literal opposite. A cutesy, pastel pink, lace covered lolita. From what he could tell, you were as sweet as your wardrobe, always saying hello to everyone in the building as you headed to work. Every day seemed to be amazing for you, and you always wore a bright smile. 

Everything you did was sickeningly sweet. You were everything he told himself he hated. Pastels and colors and sunshine. 

So of course, Dio was absolutely in love with you. 

“Dio! Earth to Dio!” Raven said, waving her hand in front of his face as he watched his neighbor come into the building. “Fuck! What’s up with you?” 

Her gaze followed his, smirking when she realized what he was staring at. “Oh? Is little Dio in love?” 

“Dio’s in what?” Ace said, coming back onto the balcony with beers. “I swear you just said the L word.” 

“I did!” Raven said eagerly, kicking her feet and grinning slyly at Dio. “What’s her name?” 

“I don’t fucking know,” Dio grumbled into his beer bottle, outright lying because of course he knew your name. “And I don’t know because I’m not in love with her!” 

Raven and Ace looked at each other and both broke out into laughter. 

That night, when Dio was escorting his friends out of his apartment, the door next to his opened up.

Immediately, both Ace and Raven lit up. “Is that her?” 

Dio swore, seeing you coming out of your apartment, walking towards the elevator. Which meant you had to pass Dio and his friends. 

“Hey Dio,” you said sweetly, waving and walking past. 

Dio simply sighed, realizing exactly what was about to happen now. “Hey. Heading out?” 

You nodded, pushing the elevator button as Dio and his friends got closer. “Yeah. The local fabric barn is having a huge sale on their deadstock stuff. I wanna get out there before the sun goes down.” 

“Huh.” Dio nodded, giving Ace a death glare as he smiled. “Sounds fun.” 

“It is!” You said eagerly, adjusting your adorable lavender dress as you walked onto the elevator, followed by Dio and his friends. “I bet you could find some good stuff there. I saw a beautiful tarot card fabric last time I went.” 

Raven perked up at that. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Just like that, you were pulling your phone out to show Raven the fabric, her immediately gushing over how nice it was. 

“If I see it there today, I’ll get you some,” you said, pocketing your phone as the elevator reached the ground floor. 

Ace and Raven waved as they left, leaving you and Dio alone outside the elevator. 

“Are you heading out too?” You asked Dio, looking curiously at him. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Dio grumbled, trying his best to keep his reputation intact. It was so hard not to let himself, the real him, out when talking to you. 

You smiled. “That’s okay. Have a good night Dio!” 

As you walked away, Dio battled his emotions for all of twenty seconds before running after you. “Wait!” 

“Hm?” You turned, skirt swinging and head tipping ever so slightly. “Yeah?” 

Dio stopped, suddenly hesitant. But he wasn’t the kind of guy who backed down from anything. “Can I come with you? Fabric shopping, that is.” 

Almost instantly, you lit up. “Of course! Come on!” 

You two made for a very odd pair heading down the street, Dio’s dark leather and metal studded aesthetic a complete opposite from your pastel sweets and soft ribbon look. Yet, you matched in a very odd way, like two puzzle pieces. Especially when, upon coming up on a busy crosswalk, you anxiously took his hand, almost causing poor Dio to combust. His rings were cold on your skin, but his hand itself was nice and warm. 

When you finished crossing the street, you didn’t drop Dio’s hand, merely continuing to walk with him, connected by your interlaced fingers. He didn’t tug away, despite the feeling of complete anxiety in his chest. 

Of course, the fabric shop finally showed up, and you eagerly pulled Dio inside. It was a maze, with tall shelves full of bolts of fabric and smaller shelves stacked with containers of buttons and ribbons and threads. 

“So what are you looking for?” Dio asked, looking at the employee who was staring at him. 

“I don’t know,” you said happily, heading towards the pastel fabrics. “That’s the point! I have a budget but no plan. I just wanna see what catches my eye.” 

Dio followed after you, very much like a lost puppy, as you hummed and looked over the messily stacked fabric bolts. You found a few you liked, humming as you took pictures and continued on. 

Eventually, Dio got so uncomfortable that you actually noticed. “Why don’t you go traverse the black fabrics,” you said softly, tugging on his sleeve. “See if you can find that tarot bolt I was talking about.” 

Dio gladly left the bright colors and shuffled through the dark blacks, occasionally finding something interesting. 

Eventually, you found him, a bag in hand full of fabrics. “Hey. Find anything good?” 

Dio shrugged. He had found the tarot fabric, which he showed you, and he hesitantly showed off another fabric bolt he found. It wasn’t black, but a deep navy, printed with beautiful silver stars and thin lines to create constellations. “This is nice.” 

“It is,” you agreed softly, taking the loose fabric end and smiling. “It’s very nice. Perfect dress making fabric.” 

You snapped a photo of it before walking off, Dio following you to the ribbon and lace section. You hummed to yourself, picking out a few different things. A roll of white lace, a few different ribbons in various colors and sizes, two packs of pearly white buttons. It was a hodgepodge of items, but you didn’t mind. 

“I’m gonna go have a smoke,” Dio said to you at one point. “Meet you outside.” 

“Yep.” You examined a roll of lace, looking up at Dio and smiling. “I’m almost done. Might need a few more things, but I shouldn’t be any longer than fifteen minutes.” 

Dio left, leaving you to eagerly pick out a few items for your next big project. A roll of delicate black lace, two ribbons in black and navy, a few black buttons, and the most important part. The navy constellation fabric. 

You paid for the items and left, seeing Dio waiting just outside. He put his cigarette out and began to walk beside you, instinctively grabbing your hand as you two came up on the busy crosswalk again. 

“Find everything you needed?” He finally asked, squeezing your hand to grab your attention. 

“Mhm!” You hummed happily. “And some things I didn’t, but that’s okay.” 

By the time you had reached the apartment building, it was well after dark. Dio insisted on walking you to your door, despite your laughter infused attempt to remind him that you were neighbors. 

“I’ll see you around Dio,” you said, opening your door and slipping inside. 

Dio smiled, actually smiled, at you. “Yeah. See you around.” 

You two did much more than that. Next time Raven visited Dio, she insisted upon seeing you, which meant that you were now settled upon Dio’s old ass couch, chatting away with Raven. You were a huge contrast to the entire apartment, in your pretty pink skirt with merry-go-round ponies on the bottom and the characteristic petticoat underneath it. 

Eventually, when Dio went out onto the balcony to have a cigarette, Raven turned to you, her eyes alight. “He really likes you.” 

“Dio?” You peered at the balcony, where Dio was leaning against the rail, a cigarette hanging off his lips. “He’s my neighbor.” 

Raven snorted. “Honey, that boy is head over ridiculously large platform heels in love with you.” 

Now it was your turn to make a noise of disbelief. “No he isn’t.” 

“Yeah, he is.” Raven put a hand on your knee, smiling. “Let me tell you. Dio is not a going out kind of guy. But he went on and on about your fabric shopping date for almost half an hour that night. He genuinely enjoyed it.” 

You were quiet. “He enjoyed it?” 

“Hell yeah he did!” Raven said happily. “I haven’t seen Dio that happy about being out since, well, ever.” 

Dio chose that moment to return, settling in a chair and looking between you and Raven. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” Raven said, leaning back. “Hey, how’s that skirt coming along?” 

You perked up, telling Raven all about the tarot skirt you were making for her. 

“All I need to do is put the elastic in and it should be done!” You finished after a few minutes. “You can come pick it up whenever, I’ll probably finish tonight.” 

Raven promised to come get the skirt next time she visited Dio. You waved, watching her leave. 

“So,” you said, standing and adjusting your skirt. “I’ll see you soon?” 

Dio stood as well, coming over to your side. “Yeah. Soon.” 

“Perfect!” You grinned, taking his hands and looking down at them. You pressed a finger into a small tattoo he had on the back of one hand, feeling his pulse jump beneath your skin. “I’ve been meaning to go back out and grab more fabrics. Think you’ll be up for it?” 

Dio shrugged. “Sure.” 

Which was how your monthly fabric dates became a thing. The monthly outings turned quickly into weekly dates, mostly at one of your apartments. When you were alone, it was like you had a completely different Dio. He smiled, leaning across your countertops to take cookies from you. He went on and on about Ancient Greek mythology, a childlike wonder to his voice. He was touchy and cuddly and although he was definitely still the stubborn goth who lived next door, he was no longer as guarded and emotionless. By that time, you were no longer neighbors. No longer friends. Your relationship was beyond that. Not quite lovers, but not not lovers either. 

About a year after you two started to go out, Dio got super lonely one night. It was Friday, one night before date night, but he needed you. Needed to be beside you. 

He trailed over to your apartment after some consideration, knocking hesitantly. You opened the door after a few seconds, grinning brightly upon seeing Dio. “Hey Dio! What’s up?” 

Dio hesitated. You’d changed out of the frilly, baby blue dress and fluffy petticoat you’d worn to work, abandoning it for a pair of white overall shorts with a soft pink shirt underneath. Sometimes he forgot you weren’t always wearing those dresses. “Uh. Can I come in?” 

It was an odd question. Dio never asked to come in. You usually had to ask him, and even then it took some pestering. “Of course. C’mere.” 

Dio shuffled in, kicking off his boots and dropping almost two inches, making you smile. “So. What brings you to my apartment?” 

“I dunno,” Dio mumbled, standing awkwardly in your entryway. 

You smiled, coming closer and taking Dio’s hands. You slowly traced each tattoo he had, taking special interest in the one on the back of his hand, between his thumb and forefinger, as usual. “Lonely?” 

“In a way.” 

You tugged him further into the apartment. “Take your coat off Dio. I wanna show you something.” 

Dio followed you, hanging his coat up on the coat rack as he went. You pushed open the door to a spare bedroom, only it wasn’t a bedroom. It was a sewing room. 

Every inch of the room was covered in colorful fabric and delicate lace. Half finished projects littered the various surfaces, the most prominent a mess of beautiful pastel purple fabric piled up next to the sewing machine. But what caught Dio’s eye was the mostly finished dress on the dress form in the corner. 

The dress itself was darker than anything Dio had ever seen you wear. A rich royal navy studded with faded silver stars, connected by thin lines of thread to make constellations. The dress would be knee length on you, with a layer of black lace around the bottom and the characteristic petticoat underneath, also in black. You’d layered a frilly black shirt underneath the dress as well, the long sleeves and silky ribbons doing terrible things to Dio’s imagination. 

“So?” You asked hesitantly. “What do you think?”

Dio was dead silent, unable to form the thoughts into words. “Is it done?” 

“Almost,” you said, turning the dress form around and showing Dio the collection of black metal loops on the back. “I have to finish putting the loops on, then it’ll be done.” 

Dio stepped closer, running a hesitant hand over the fabric. “Is this?” 

“That fabric we found when we went shopping? Yeah.” 

Dio froze, hand still on the fabric. “I didn’t know you bought it.” 

“I did,” you said, coming up behind him, wrapping him in a hug and pressing a cheek in between his shoulder blades. “I wanted to surprise you.” 

Speechless, Dio melted into your embrace, turning around so you could tuck your head into his chest. You smiled, humming softly. “You’re a good man Dio Morrissey. I hope you know that.” 

That was the last straw. You felt Dio’s chest heave, and with a slight shock, you realized Dio was crying. 

“Oh,” you murmured, reaching up and wiping away his tears. “Oh Dio. Hey, it’s okay. Look at me, there you go. It’s okay.” 

Dio took a stuttering breath, hugging you close. “I love you,” he stammered between breaths. “I love you so fucking much.” 

You smiled, wrapping Dio in a hug and smoothing a hand up and down his back. “I love you too Dio.” 

Just like that, it became official. Your date the next day was a real date, out to the park and then dinner. You eagerly finished up the star dress, getting dressed and ready while Dio waited outside your bathroom. 

“Dio!” You called, arms aching as you let them fall to your sides. “Dio! Come here!” 

The door opened, Dio’s face poking through the crack. “Yeah?” 

“Lace me up?” You asked, showing him the back of the dress, which was shut with a zipper, but was cinched at the waist with a ribbon in a very corset-esque fashion. The only problem? You couldn’t lace it yourself. 

Dio was completely frozen in the doorway, his eyes going up and down and up and down as he processed your outfit and how you looked. It took a solid two minutes before he responded. “You look amazing.” 

“Thank you,” you said with a laugh. “Now c’mon. Don’t be afraid to squeeze me into this dress,” you said, handing Dio the silky black ribbon that matched the ones on your shirt. 

He expertly threaded the ribbon, taking his time and definitely not hesitating to pull on the ribbon to really fit the dress to you. 

“Thanks!” You said once he was done, turning to the makeup scattered across the bathroom. “Now. The fun part.” 

Dio watched with pure curiosity as you put your makeup on. It was all okay until the colorful stuff, at which point he stopped you before you made a horrible mistake. 

“How about I do this part?” He said, taking the brush and tapping the excess powder into the sink. “Close your eyes.” 

You did as he asked, giggling when he took your face with one hand to steady you. “God your hands are huge.” 

Dio smiled. “Mhm. And yours aren’t.” 

More laughter echoed through the bathroom, and Dio paused in the makeup so you could laugh. 

“Okay,” you said, finally straightening. “We’re gonna be late. Let’s hurry up.” 

Ten minutes later, Dio had perfected your makeup, and you loved it. Lacing up your black shoes and adjusting your black socks, you looped an arm with Dio’s and walked towards the elevator together. 

“So,” you finally said once you two had reached the park. “Dio Morrissey. The biggest, baddest boy on the block, has fallen in love with the resident princess. How the hell does that happen?” 

Dio shrugged, putting an arm around you. “I dunno. But I’m glad it did.”

[bestworstcase]

farran rereads lost lagoon: chapters 16-17

back at it.

re: romance novel: “I saw a patch of red flowers, and I thought they would be striking against Cass’s dark hair. She wasn’t exactly a flower wearer, but maybe she’d let me pin one on her dress? The color would set off her fair skin so perfectly. And she could at least keep some in a vase by her bed. I refused to believe there was a person alive who didn’t feel better with freshly cut flowers in her room.” that’s gay rapunzel

i do admittedly have some ambivalent feelings about this passage. on the one hand it’s - yes, very gay. but also it feels to me like such a clear illustration of the difficulty rapunzel has with empathy and listening to other people when their experiences or expectations or needs diverge from hers; she acknowledges that cass isn’t into flowers, but follows it up with “but maybe i can get her to wear some anyway,” and of course there’s the whole refusing to believe anyone could feel differently about having flowers in their room than she does. and it also has this weird undercurrent of - god, i don’t know how to phrase it in a succinct way.

this specific passage was on my mind when i wrote this bit in moonless air chapter 4: 

Still. She plucks at the stitches of her jack-of-plate, self-conscious.

It’s the nicest thing she owns. Soft green velvet sewn over sturdy layers of canvas and steel. Armor. She’d saved up for more than a year to buy it for herself on the anniversary of her adoption two years ago, and at the time it had been nothing but a frivolous luxury. Stupid, really. She’d never had real reason to wear it in Herzingen, not for anything besides teaching herself how to move with its weight and entertaining ridiculous fantasies—but last night, Moira had intimated that their destination in Vardaros is fancy as well as dangerous. So the jack seemed… appropriate.

Sharp. She twitches.

Clothing—fashion isn’t– Cassandra’s always hated dresses. It’s a trait that demands a certain amount of indifference to what other people think of her appearance.

And she can do indifference. Cassandra has indifference in spades. But nobody’s ever paid her a compliment quite like that before: baldly appreciative. Straightforward. Not like all the times Rapunzel coaxed her into tolerating crowns of late-summer flowers because the colors look so nice with your complexion! and not like the Commander’s gruff praise for how grown-up she looked in the hideous pastel gowns that had come with the lady-in-waiting gig.

because – like, cass is butch, and “not a flower wearer,” and here in lost lagoon we have this passage where rapunzel expresses this pretty straightforward attraction to cassandra but in the context of imagining cassandra presenting in a much more feminine way than she is comfortable with - in a dress with flowers in her hair etc - and it just... rubs me the wrong way a little bit. and this is not to say like cass can’t be butch and put a flower in her hair but when it’s paired with rapunzel specifically acknowledging that cass doesn’t WANT to wear flowers then it - yeah i feel weird about this passage. 

and that translated into cass having a whole little crisis over being complimented for her appearance without implicit pressure to be more feminine for the first time ever

anyways

i still can’t get over the name monsieur lefleur 

rapunzel summarizes hervanian culture as “brash but can be funny; distrustful but not mean-spirited” so, basically, they are americans

she is feeling very Prepared to meet with them, in contrast to every other time she’s met with foreign dignitaries or nobility before this. eugene tries to warn her that cass is PISSED with her and she just brushes him off, as one does, by saying that cass is “not all bubbles and moonbeams” but that she is “a softy” inside. 

of course this leads up to cass blowing up and going off while rapunzel tries to calm her down and just - groan this line. 

“People don’t change! You told a criminal a detail that puts my entire future at risk!”

how many times have i said “cass doesn’t act this way in tts” i feel like it’s a constant drumbeat. but i have to say, again, that cass doesn’t act this way in tts. i don’t think it’s unrealistic for her to think like this, given that her father is essentially corona’s chief of police and she idolizes him, but i feel the need to reiterate that there is zero sign of cass having this mindset in tts proper. and it does sort of bother me when people read this into cass’s character because it undermines and delegitimizes her dislike of eugene in early s1. 

which like. tts itself sort of frames their mutual dislike as a mutual problem, but it’s... really not? and imo the best illustration of this is in this exchange from cassandra vs eugene: 

CASSANDRA: Unbelievable. Did you eat all the cookies?

EUGENE: I’m not a pig, Cassandra. I ate all of your cookies; I’m saving mine for later.

CASSANDRA: Ugh– you are nothing but a self-serving, inconsiderate, arrogant freeloader!

EUGENE: [scoffing] You know, I can rattle off insulting adjectives describing your personality, too, but to do so would imply that you actually have a personality, and I just wouldn’t feel right about doing that!

this is the dynamic every time they squabble in early s1. 

1 - eugene does something selfish or thoughtless - in this case taking all the cookies and milk for himself. 

2 - cassandra calls him out for it, and he doubles down, often taking a potshot at her in the process. 

3 - cassandra gets mad and calls his behavior what it is (self-serving, inconsiderate, arrogant)

4 - eugene gets defensive and insults her as a person, typically with variations on calling her icy / unfeeling / humorless / joyless. 

which is to say, their fights are initiated by eugene’s poor behavior, and cassandra attacks his behavior but eugene attacks cassandra herself. like, eugene is the dude who insults you and then goes “pfft why can’t you take a joke” when you get upset with him. that’s what this is. 

moreover, when eugene’s, for lack of a better term, residual flynn rider-ness starts to taper off, cassandra’s criticism of his behavior also tapers off, AND she gets much gentler about how she phrases this criticism once he starts to actually take it on board. but there’s no accompanying shift in the way eugene speaks to and about her - the jibes about her being humorless or cranky or soulless literally never stop and at no point does he ever seem to consider that cass might not appreciate them as much as he thinks she does. 

(to be clear, i don’t think they bother cass very much if at all - but they do create and reinforce a perception on eugene’s end that cass Doesn’t Have Feelings and the background radiation of that contributes to the toxicity that develops in season 2.)

like again, pulling from cassandra vs eugene here, eugene is extremely insulting towards cassandra even when he’s ostensibly coming to her defense: 

RANDOM THUG: Look at that, Fancy-Boots has got something to say!

EUGENE: Name-calling? Come on, we’re better than that, aren’t we? Sure, we could sit here and make fun of each other—tease Cassandra for her chronic joylessness, or me for my uncommonly good looks, or you for your poor dental hygiene, tragic fashion sense, robust body odor, and what are clearly woefully misguided decision making skills, but do you really want to go down that road?

ALL OF WHICH IS TO SAY - besides demonstrating an obvious willingness to give eugene another chance once he starts doing the bare minimum to not be a dick to her, cassandra doesn’t like eugene because eugene is an asshole to her and takes the enormous privileges he is given completely for granted. 

saying “well she doesn’t like him because he was a criminal and she doesn’t believe criminals ever change” erases that completely and reframes the conflict as cassandra treats eugene unfairly because of bigotry that she needs to unlearn. lost lagoon takes this even one step further in that lost lagoon eugene is genuinely trying to be responsible, he is taking his new lot in life seriously. he doesn’t need cass to tell him off for acting like an ass because he doesn’t act like an ass. he shows actual interest in getting to know cass and makes an effort to break through her hostility in order to get along. unlike his tts counterpart, lagoon eugene really doesn’t do anything wrong, and that makes cassandra’s intense hatred of him on the grounds that he was a thief look completely irrational and, like i said, bigoted. 

it’s just very frustrating to me.

anyways

rapunzel tries very hard to persuade cass that it’s actually totally fine that she told eugene the secret because she just can’t keep secrets from eugene (except the lagoon which she has arbitrarily decided is totes fine to keep secret and i am pretty sure this contradiction never gets pointed out) - and cass is having none of it, and of course arianna interrupts before anything can get resolved. 

they rush out and monsieur lefleur interrupts them, asking questions about the lost lagoon. he reveals that he heard an ~elegant cloaked person~ inquiring about it in the library. he asks for the book. they say no. the red herring smells to high heavens, and the chapter ends with rapunzel subtly telling cass to hide the book ~for the safety of the kingdom~ and oh my god i just can’t handle the low stakes. 

seventeen picks up from there with cassandra’s point of view; she’s suspicious of lefleur and angsts a lot about how she has no time to train and she needs to get out of corona yada yada. her plan is literally to just walk until she finds someone to hire her on as a guard which. lol. this kid.

i feel like this is the strongest passage in the whole book: 

She said there couldn’t be any secrets between Eugene and her. But why—especially when it meant sacrificing my future and everything I held dear? I’d read about romantic love in poems, and it seemed to me like a spell. Sounded great for the lovebirds, but what about the other people.

Did I just not matter in the face of this love, even though I had been the one to risk everything to show Rapunzel the world? Was I just supposed to fall on my sword because Eugene was uncomfortable that he didn’t have every last piece of information about Rapunzel?

she has a brief argument with owl, who is a pretty obvious stand-in for her own doubts / feeling that she truly belongs in corona and doesn’t actually want to leave. but she has no choice! but it’s stormy, so she can’t leave! oh no!

(i think if tts really strongly felt she had no choice but to free corona, a measly thunderstorm would not be enough to stop her.)

[kingbennyboyyy]

benny’s rwby rewrite: team RWBY redesigns

hello again! in honor of me actually getting some schoolwork done and subsequently having the time to rewatch the first volume of rwby for writing purposes, i thought i’d get out of the way some design notes that have been living in my head for the main girls. with how important colors and motif are in rwby as a whole, i thought that a little more care could be taken. i’ll go into the volume 1 designs most of all, and outline any consistent changes within the character’s notes. i’ll also go into why i’m changing what i’m changing.

with that, my thoughts as always will be under the cut!

ruby rose:

we’re starting strong with ruby’s design, and god do i have some strong opinions about this girl. let it be known that i actually like ruby’s clothing design: i think i’ve mentioned that i think the contrast of a fluffy petticoat and platform boots with a giant scythe and killing monsters is really interesting. that being said, there’s some fucked up geneology happening in the rose-xiao long family.

a big issue i have with ruby and her family members is the fact that despite the fact that yang and ruby are related through taiyang, neither of them have inherited his skintone. you’d think that with how literally their phenotypes are taken, that ruby wouldn’t be white as snow. with how low-contrast ruby’s design is as a whole, i think that her having darker skin would be welcome. adding the bonus of holy shit, a dark-skinned mixed girl is the protagonist makes me really biased toward this. complexion-wise, she should be somewhere between summer and taiyang, but still visibly darker than someone like weiss.

her hair being naturally black and red is perfectly okay for me. i think that it looks nice, and there’s a lot she can do with it. i can’t really complain about it being in her eyes after gushing over her combat cupcake skirt.

what i can complain about is her lack of pockets. like, she only has one little pouch to carry god knows what in. is she really expecting to be able to carry all of her ammunition in that one little pouch? god no. swap out the pouch for some kind of bag, or better yet, a bandolier of some kind to serve the same asymmetrical purpose that dingy little pocket does.  

finally, her eyes. in my ideal world, i would have done something a bit more dramatic to set ruby’s white eyes apart from, say, neo’s grey eyes. maybe making her pupils lighter than black, grey, or even just white. the animators made blake’s pupils smaller to set her apart, why not give ruby’s eyes a little something-something? also, with the contrasting color of her design being either a silver or a white, having her silver eyes be one of the lightest elements of her design is really aesthetically pleasing to me.

weiss schnee:

i’m going to be completely real here, i like weiss’ original design a lot. they really leaned into the weiss part of her: the girl’s white. she’s white as fuck. her dress is white, her little bolero is white, her shoes are white, it’s all white, with just a touch of icy pastel blue to make her feel more cold than sterile. i love it. i’m also a big fan of the other, brighter colors in her design, but i think the introduction of red should have waited a bit longer.

in her introductory outfit, the inside of her bell-sleeved bolero is this blinding, fully-saturated red that is really distracting to the eye. i’d replace this with a blue, sort of like the color of her eyes, and do the same with that little doily piece at the dip in her neckline. i also think that she should have been kept much more symmetrical, the most symmetrical of any of the cast. move that side pony to the center back of her head, put one of those little pouches on each hip, and have her stow her weapon across her back.

also, this isn’t even necessarily a problem, but i think weiss would have benefited from a much more conservative shoe. knowing the schnee family, i don’t they would have found it appropriate for an heiress to be running around in platform heels. i think that pointe shoes, or something familiar, would be really interesting, especially in conjunction with her ballerina aesthetic. her scar can definitely stay as it is; i think it’s both subtle enough to break her symmetry nicely, but also symbolically strong.

also, of all of the characters to give a dramatic haircut, it should have been fucking weiss. i’m all for bi bob blake, but imagine the dramatic potential of weiss just chopping straight through that shit to declare herself independent from her shitdick father. also, i think her hair should be naturally brown, like jacques’ is. the narravite element of her having to tirelessly keep up appearances is really good to me.

blake belladonna:

blake lives in a weird space for me. on the one hand, i would love for her to have dark skin as well, to sort of even the scale in terms of complexion. however, having a dark-skinned woman with literal animal ears being kind of problematic isn’t lost on me. in my opinion, the issue lies in blake being uniquely dark-skinned: in conjunction with ruby and yang, i think that her being dark-skinned is a little less uncomfortable. i think it would also remedy the problem of most of the dark-skinned characters in rwby being either dead or evil, so we’ll make her a bit tan.

with that out of the way, i also really like blake’s design, but she could certainly use some work. she, like many of the other team members, are pretty low-contrast save for the white tube-top thing she had going on. i think the white in her design should be toned down, either to a grey or a purple color. i also think that her arm situation needs to either be long gloves or wrapped-up straps, not both. that motif isn’t anywhere else in her design, and most of the lines are clean and smooth, not all jaggedy like the straps are. keep those bracelets on her upper arms, and make those gloves of hers marksman’s gloves. 

i also think that she should wear thigh-high boots. this isn’t just my bias showing; something about the way those boot cuffs cut off the line of her legs is just really irritating to me. have them attach to that swooping vest situation, this is anime, it doesn’t matter how she’d get into them logistically. also, that gradient situation on her is just terrible. having seen a lot of art of her without that gradient has converted me, her design is just so much more clean-looking without it, and blake really reads as someone who should have a much less complex design, opting for clean lines and nice shapes instead of the frills and textures someone like weiss has.

yang xiao long:

i’m gonna start with something i’ve already mentioned: yang should be brown. the fact that she not nary a fucking hair of melanin from her dad is a crime. ideal yang is brown, but so is her hair to start out. i had the idea of rather than her hair being naturally yellow, starting out brown and being bleached in streaks by the heat of her semblance, and as the show goes on, it gets more and more yellow, and eventually even platinum blonde.

with that out of the way, i do not like yang’s initial design. the puffed sleeves don’t make any sense with her as a character, that weird train situation she has on her belt is an affront to god, and why is she just wearing spats? i think that of all of the people to tear, or hell, burn the sleeves clean off of her jacket, it’d be yang. yang is a fuck sleeves kind of girl. she’s a “i flexed the sleeves clean off of my shit” kind of girl. also, she’s gonna wear a tube top and hot pants, but she’s gonna button up her jacket? fucking what? unbutton that shit. she’s a lesbian vest kinda girl. she can keep her little scarf, and her tube top is a look, so it can stay.

i actually really like yang’s boots. i think they compliment her really nicely, and she’s enough of a brute fighting style-wise to warrant those chunky monsters. the mismatched socks and little scarf are cute touches too, but i think the scarf should start out red. the purple can come in later. addressing the spats (bike shorts? spanx?) situation, there’s a very simple solution: give yang jorts. not even a fucking joke, give the woman jorts. look me in the eye and tell me that yang “t-shirt as a bandana” xiao long would not wear jorts. you can’t. it’s impossible. she would wear neon yellow jorts with that ungodly belt situation and i will not compromise this. the overalls she wears in atlas? also jorts. mistral? black, sure, but fucking jorts nonetheless. jort xiao long will outlive me, so help me god.

... i got a bit carried away there, but i hope you enjoyed my thoughts! i may at some point get around to actually drawing these redesigns, so keep an eye out for that in future!

[welcomethefears]

Days Away - Bucky Barnes x Reader Soulmate AU - Chapter 8

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7  || Part 8 (This is it)

The afternoon was sunny, with beams of light streaming in through the open windows in the shop. Each flower colored the room, sending pastels and dark colors spiraling throughout the primarily creamy walls. At the front desk of this shop stood a (Tall/Short) girl, resting both elbows on the marble, her head in her hands, and a distant look adorning her (s/c) face. It was a dim afternoon, and today her flower shop wasn’t as busy as it usually was. She let out a soft sigh, feeling the sunlight hit and warm her face. She closed her eyes for a split second, taking in all the warmth that the afternoon offered to her.

“(Y/N), you alright?” A voice asked, snapping the girl out of her daze. Said girl open her (e/c) eyes, her gaze falling on the brunette carrying a pot of pale pink roses. Vanessa had a hand on her hip, her green apron blending in with her dark clothing. Her brown eyes sparkled in the afternoon light, watching carefully over her seemingly younger boss. (Y/N) let a soft smile paint itself across her plump lips, letting a soft hum vibrate through her throat.

“I’m fine, just… thinking,” She stated, her melodic voice floating around the store. Vanessa made her way over to the counter, placing the pot down and grabbing (Y/N)’s right arm. The girl struggled a little as her grey knit shawl was pushed down her arm, revealing her glowing numbers that were ticking now, second by second. It was only 3 days until she met them, her soulmate. She sighed dreamily as she thought about the concept, her other half after all this time. She had waited what felt like centuries, watching as all her friends including Vanessa met their soulmates and became just, astonishingly happy. She never thought it was possible, to suddenly become a humanoid ray of sunshine just by meeting someone, but it was clear to her that soulmates defied this logic she had.

“I knew it! Only 3 days? (Y/N) why didn’t you tell me?” Vanessa reprimanded. (Y/N) rolled her eyes, smile somehow getting warmer at the words. She loved Vanessa, she was one of her closest friends, and one of her best employees. Then again, she only hired the best at her store, with Vanessa being assistant manager and two very reliable teenage girls running the desk after school and on weekends. It was little her own little flower family, and she made sure each person knew how much they were valued. It was small things, like gifting them their favourite flowers on their birthdays or buying them all cookies at Christmas. She ran a tight ship at work, so she needed people to know how much she cared. She shook her head, getting caught in her own thoughts again. She loved those in her life already, how was a soulmate going to affect her?

“Yeah, just 3 more, crazy right? Who knew I would get a soulmate!” She exclaimed in reply, a grin spreading across her face. She was always good at hiding her inner turmoil, covering it with an overexcited exterior. Her personality seemed to match that of a twenty-something-year-old, but in reality, she was around 54 years old, a gift she seemed to inherit from her father. Everyone she knew closely knew this, but she had no clue how this would affect her soulmate, she was old enough to experience turmoil yet not old enough to experience a world war. Would her soulmate be younger than her? An old person? She had no clue, but in a way that excited her, the mystery of it all, so she showed this side of her emotions instead of anything else. Her eyes sparkled as she thought this, Vanessa quickly picking up on it, giggling softly at her friend’s innocence.

“You still manage to act like a child, even though you’re much older than I am,” Vanessa shrugged, smiling at (Y/N) as she moved to her work station, collecting and arranging flowers.

“I can’t help it sorry, being youthful is just… exciting I guess,” (Y/N) trailed off, caught in her own thoughts again as the afternoon sun drifted in. She’d be going home soon, tutoring the kids in the afternoon, and helping to cook dinner for them all. Being around children, especially school-aged mutants was exciting for her, watching them develop their skills and powers, as well as their social skills was a highlight of each day. Thinking about it more, she loved the mansion, with all the staff being like a family when she was away from her father or flower shop. The support she experienced as a child and even now as a fully-fledged adult was something she valued tremendously. Although, with a soulmate coming into the picture did that mean she would have to rely on them? Would they even be reliable? Everything was quickly spiraling, becoming something out of hand, lost in them she was snapped back to reality when Vanessa spoke once again.

“Oh, Wade was asking when he’s allowed to come back to the mansion? Says he wants to have a family dinner with everyone,” Vanessa informed, causing a snort to come from (Y/N).

“Never,” She chortled, memory flashing to the last time Deadpool had invaded an x-men dinner. Many of the younger students invited to join the staff dinner were quickly pushed out of the room, and Charles had not been happy about the language and vulgarity some of them had heard. Although ironically both Ellie (Better known as Negasonic teenage warhead) and Yukio had stayed, Yukio being quite the source of gossip for Wade to tap into.

“Come on, could it really hurt that much? I could come with him if that would help,” Vanessa offered, her own thoughts drifting to her fiancé who was even more childish than the woman in front of her.

“Maybe, as long as you don’t get jealous if he starts flirting with Colossus,” (Y/N) giggled, pressing her thumb across the pale pink petal belonging to the tulip she was holding. Banter like this was nice, a great distraction from the possible mess that was thought to arrive in 3 days.

~*~

“Welcome home!” Kitty yelled, jumping on (Y/N) as soon as she had closed the door behind her. While Kitty was one of the youngest teachers (Having only finished schooling a couple of years prior) she was still treated the same way she was when she was a child, since all the older staff had a soft spot for her. And seemingly, Kitty had a soft spot for (Y/N). Hugging back with just as much intensity, (Y/N) rested her head on Kitty’s shoulder, their brown and (H/C) hair pooling together. Pulling apart and leaving the warmth of each other’s touch, the two shared a smile before Kitty took (Y/N)’s hand, dragging her towards the library in the mansion.

“Some of the students are waiting for us, looks like maths and biology. You’ll be able to handle that, right?” Kitty asked, an innocence emanating in through her words. (Y/N) rolled her eyes at this, playfully shoving Kitty softly.

“Hello, anyone in there? Did you forget my powers again space cadet?” (Y/N) teased, linking her arm with Kitty’s in an affectionate manner. Kitty huffed playfully in response, gripping (Y/N)’s arm back in response.

“Of course, I know, it’s just they’re doing cell theory, not botany!” She exclaimed in reply, shaking her head slightly and causing her brown hair to jump with the movement. The two finally came to the library, finding many students chatting loudly to each other with books hardly touched. (Y/N) raised her eyebrow at this, noting how the students hadn’t noticed either of the two adults. Without a word, (Y/N) raised her hand towards the center of the large table, and slowly out of the wood, a large cactus grew, its sharp needles stretching into every corner she allowed it to reach. The students took note of this quickly, turning their attention to the (tall/short) figure which had caused it to occur. (Y/N) smiled lightly, watching over the silent children finally paying attention.

“So, what are we helping with today?” (Y/N) asked, a sweet grin on her face as she looked over all the students before her.

~*~

“Did you really have to grow a cactus on the tables, you could have just called out to them?” Kitty asked, walking down one of the long halls in the mansion with (Y/N). The two had just finished tutoring all the students, a successful session in (Y/N)’s eyes, but so was anytime a student’s face lit up with understanding. Being with others, especially children was always a fun experience for (Y/N), because as much as she looked young if it weren’t for her childish personality it was likely she’d be like her father, a grumpy old man. The students provided an insight into the younger generations, a connection she doubted she would have outside the girls in her flower shop. It wasn’t just that though, it was the fact that the mansion acted as a surrogate family for all these children, a place where they were safe and free to be themselves, and in a way that allowed (Y/N) to do the same. Shrugging her shoulders, she was already back in the moment, her air-headed tendencies pushed aside.

“I felt like it, plus no one really has a mutation like mine, so it’s always nice to show off what I’ve got,” She replied lightly, finally reaching the dining room with Kitty. It was pretty empty seeing as all the kids had eaten already, as well as the teachers who were monitoring them. Not only that, but tonight wasn’t an official dinner, the sort where all the x-men spent the evening together. However, a familiar figure sat at the x-men table alone, her white hair tumbling down her back and contrasting with her rich dark skin. (Y/N)’s face lit up as she saw her best friend, rushing forward to the dining table.

“Ororo! It’s good to see you!” She laughed, engulfing her friend in a hug. Ororo hugged back just as strong, the two laughing quietly to each other. Pulling away they shared a smile, and (Y/N) noticed the age on her face. Sometimes it was hard to acknowledge the fact, but not aging certainly put a damper on some of her relationships. The nature of her powers meant that her healing could only be used on her family and soulmate, so every once in a while, she’d be reminded of this, simply by looking at her aging best friend. It was hard, watching those she was connected to lose their spark and die, but so was the life of a mutant with healing powers. At least she’d always have Deadpool to talk to, knowing she was one of the few who enjoyed his company.

“You saw me last night, what’s the big deal?” Ororo asked, raising an eyebrow at her youthful friend. (Y/N) seemed to fidget at this, not wanting to admit either her thoughts or her dilemma. Ororo didn’t even flinch, a knowing look in her eyes.

“Not long to go I’m guessing?” Ororo asked, pulling up her own sleeve to show off her numbers, slowly ticking down each second. She was close too, but not as close as (Y/N). Automatically (Y/N) copied her friends’ action, pulling her own sleeve up to reveal her mark, glowing brightly on her (s/c) skin.

“Only 3 days, you lucky girl,” Ororo chuckled, rolling her sleeve down as (Y/N) did the same.

“Oh. My. God! Only 3 days, why didn’t you tell me (Y/N)?! Have you told anyone!?” Kitty asked, jumping up and down in excitement behind the two. (Y/N) rubbed the back of her head in embarrassment, letting out a strained laugh.

“I’ve only told Vanessa at the flower shop and now you guys, more than anything I didn’t want to tell my dad, you know how he can be like when it comes to me,” She huffed out softly in reply, dropping her hand and letting it run through her (H/C) hair.

“What am I like?” Came the voice, interrupting the girl talk in the dining room. (Y/N) turned towards the voice, Wolverine walking casually into the room as if nothing was the matter at all. He came over to (Y/N) first, ruffling her hair affectionately.

“How’s my little Howlett going?” Logan asked, standing beside the group of girls.

“Fine, Dad, how was the camp?” (Y/N) asked in reply, sweating under her collar at his sudden appearance.

“Yeah it was fine, some of the little runts had trouble setting up tents, but other than that they were pretty capable.” He informed. (Y/N) looked between the two girls, an obvious difference in their reactions. Kitty watched on fearfully as well, looking as if to keep the secret. Ororo however, looked on encouragingly, waiting for (Y/N) to take the mature option. Swallowing her fears, (Y/N) finally spoke up.

“Dad, I’m meeting my soulmate in 3 days,” She informed, watching as her father’s face morphed into one of surprise.

“Oh,” His reply was simple, and the room was frozen in anticipation. All the girls were quiet, and with the air becoming thicker (Y/N) noticed Kitty slowly sink through the floor, escaping the awkward situation. ‘Damn her,’ (Y/N) thought to herself. Storm seemingly held eye contact with both parties on and off, struggling to decide who needed her attention most.

“Well, dad?” (Y/N) tentatively asked, hoping to pull some answer from him.

“Well… I’m happy for you little Howlett. Hard to believe you’re growing up,” Logan huffed out half-heartedly, making eye-contact with his daughter, a soft smile overtaking his lips no matter how hard he tried to keep up his gruff exterior. (Y/N) let out a sigh of relief, happy enough to at least get that titbit of approval, but knowing her father this wouldn’t be the last she heard of the matter.

“I’m 54 years old now dad, you don’t have to baby me anymore,” (Y/N) giggled with a roll of her eye, squealing as her father suddenly grabbed her in his arms, feeling her (h/c) hair being ruffled around once again. While a small gesture, the short contact she had with her father like this meant everything. He hadn’t meant to, she always thought, hadn’t meant to leave her in the care of the X-men for her childhood, but that was just how it was. So moments like this, when he was actually in her life, and his contact kept her in reality, meant practically the universe.

“Yeah, but ya act like one, might as well treat ya like one,” Logan grinned, letting his daughter go from his arms. (Y/N) found herself unsure of how she felt about this, in one way she felt like she needed the contact, something to lean on, yet leaving her father’s arms was her future still to come. Logan muttered a quick goodnight, snapping (Y/N) from her trance as she whispered the same back. She watched as he left, yet she felt no weight off her shoulders. He knew now, that was great, but something still wasn’t right.

“Earth to (Y/N), you going to stand here all night or head to bed, it’s already 10 pm and you have work tomorrow, right?” Ororo asked, placing a shoulder delicately on her shoulder. The warmth presented was inviting, and (Y/N) realized that it was something she always craved, but seemingly more so lately. This soulmate business was certainly getting to her.

“Hmm? Oh yes, I do, I’ll follow you towards the rooms,” (Y/N) answered simply, trying to hide her disappointment when Ororo’s hand left her shoulder.

“Hey, to celebrate your soulmate do you want to get some coffee tomorrow. That little place a couple of blocks from your work? It’s the only time I’m free with everything going on, and I’m sure Vanessa can handle the shop for a while,” Ororo suggested, making (Y/N)’s (e/c) eyes light up with joy. She nodded vigorously, excitement overtaking her in a child-like manner.

“That sounds wonderful! I can’t wait to see you, then I can finally sit down and have a good talk with you,” (Y/N) suggested. Spending time with Storm as a normal civilian was almost a dream come true oddly enough.

The two finally parted ways at (Y/N)’s room, and after saying goodnight for the final time, she softly closed her door. Her room had become her own at the mansion after a couple of decades of living in it. A permanent resident she seemed to be, and not that she minded but it wasn’t truly hers. It was Charles’ home, it was the children’s home. But not hers. With these thoughts clouding her mind as she pulled her quilt over herself, she couldn’t help but let the storm in her mind to wander towards her soulmate. (Y/N) had hardly had a boyfriend let alone felt love truly for anyone but her friends. Yet, she was optimistic. Surely a soulmate was like the legends, another half to herself, a completion to her as a person. With hope she thought about them, wondering what they were like, who they could be if they liked mutants. Thoughts about her fated swam around, clouding all judgment she had as she was lulled into slumber. Before she finally drifted off, she made a quiet promise.

To do anything for her soulmate, even move the heavens if she had to.

Taglist: (I lost it I’m so sorry, please message me if you wanna be tagged)

[taeyungie]

hiiiii~ 🎨 pleaseee? 🥺

SKY YESSSS EVERYTHING FOR YOU! YOU'RE HERE! A REAL QUEEN HAS ARRIVED INTO MY ARMS AAAAAAA I CANNOT WAIT TO WRITE A WHOLE BOOK IN THIS ASK ✨👍❤️❤️❤️❤️ idk i know it's silly but i get so much joy from complimenting you in practicular sjdhsjks you're just the cutest and you deserve all the love AND I'M HERE TO GIVE IT TO YOU AT ALL TIMES!!!! 😌😌😌❤️💕💘💓❤️💕💘 you're really truly the one who carries this site on your shoulders and it makes me so incredibly proud of you because you always work so hard 🥺 YOU MAKE SO MANY PEOPLE HAPPY i couldn't imagine being here without you!! YOU'RE ESSENTIAL, ANGEL. Before i start with showering your gifs in love all i want to say is that YOUR GIFS JUST OPEN MY THIRD EYE AND I HEAR ANGELS SING. DON'T YOU TELL ME LATER AGAIN THAT I'M EXAGGERATING (I'll get to that later on 😤) BECAUSE YOU'RE SIMPLY A GENIUS ✨ your style are one in a million, there's no way i could ever get confused on whether a gif is yours because your gifs are unmistakable!! ONE OF A KIND! you're such a precious baby, always being worried if your gifs are pretty and this makes me want to give you all the love (BUT AT THE SAME TIME LIKE 😤😤🤜👊🤛✊🤛👊✊ HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR OWN GIFS???? LIKE /ONE/ EVEN??????? OH MY GOD) and write essays about your every gifset because every 👏 single 👏 one 👏 of your sets makes me want to write poems NOW MOVING ONNNNN

I'll really have to put this under the cut because oh my god i'm so sorry you might want to get a popcorn on the way because.... yeah

good god i think i need to lie down YOU DROPPED A BOMB AND NEXT SECOND YOU JUST VANISHED LIKE '💆🏻‍♀️😌💅🏻 uhuh goodnight' AKSNDKSJSKSKKSKSKSKD ARE YOU SANE THIS IS INSANE FKANDKDKDKSJSSK THE WAY THAT I SAW THIS CLIP BEFORE AND THOUGHT oh he looks gooood BUT NOW YOU DECIDED TO JUST UH??? PUT SOME OF YOUR ✨SPICE✨ INTO THIS MEAL AND PUT IT ON A PLATE LOOKING LIKE /THIS/???????????????? bro i need a doctor i'm having literal heart palpitations...... WHERE DO I EVEN START 🙏 (warning: a very stupid and corny word-play ahead) he's beauty he's grace he's mr. golden face WKDHSKSKKS BUT REALLY HIS SKINNNNNNNNNN HISSSS SKIIIIIINNNNNNNNN 😭😭😭😭😭 THE WAY HE'S GLOWING, PLEASE!!!!!!!!! only you can make them look like this, you pull out in their skin colors everything what's the best, just stunning. next, lips.. oh my goodness, lips. beautiful, amazing, just *mwah*, beautiful, kinda desaturated (which i love in your gifs) red shade. next we have CURVES GAME ON POINT, JUST STUNNING, IF I TELL YOU THAT YOU INSPIRE ME SO MUCH AKSJSJSJSJSJKS amazing blend to the background, beautiful contrast. your gifs make me fall in love with him more and more every day 💔 and i can't leave without mentioning SHARPENING SETTINGS AAAAAAA i love itttt

indeed the cutest pie 😭😭😭 i loooove how you sometimes make your gifs so tall, you know, it's so pleasing to look at and makes them so unique and pretty. I LOVE the coloring here, it's so soft and makes everything look so flawless and light?? because gif itself is a bit dark too and his skin, and light hair are just outstanding but the contrast is so soft that everything is just pulled together nicely and looks amazing! and i love how you just pulled a magenta on me and made his mic look THIS GOOD ahhhh it's THE PRETTIEST MIC EVER 😭

this set is just... yummy 🤷‍♀️ you know???? YOU KNOW i know you know 👏 I'M– so in love with the coral, mustard and soft minty shades of background probably that's why it reminds me just of a good candy 👍👍 to add to that there actually ARE candies on the screen, like 4 of them 👀👀👀👀 again, curves adjustments - *chiefs kiss* i love skin colors and lips, it's something i can't get enough of i just simply want to eat a gif 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

now, we have reached the star of the show. I'll bring back something as a friendly reminder :

you cannot just say it's not the best and then have me just staring at it for five next hours ISLSNSJWNSJSJSNKSSJSJ please PLEASE where am i supossed to start FIRST OF ALL WHICH PARALLEL UNIVERSE YOU'RE LIVING IN THAT YOU MANAGED TO MAKE MAGENTAS LOOK SO BEAUTIFUL I JUST CANNOT UNDERSTAND HOW KAJSJSKS i'm really saying this seriously right now but this gifset made me tear up because i notice every single detail and it overwhelmed me to the very ends of my nerve endings KSJSKSK BECAUSE– 😔 skin color, suit color, hair color, lip color, mic color, sharpening, background, lighting, contrast, exposure.... all of it is just so beautifully composed and i don't think anyone could ever make something this amazing, especially looking at raw footage like comparing your gif to video frame it's just.. insane. you have magic hands and big brain that's all i have to say and i think it's truly one of my favorite sets of yours

run episode koo 🥺🥺 first and foremost i wanna notice and highlight how much i love that you just got rid of...... all blue and green KSJDJS LIKE PERIOD QUEEN AS YOU SHOULD ✨✨✨ i was kinda scared to do it on my own gifs and here i have another example of how you're just a genius, not scared of ANYTHING ✊💯💘 and then we can move onto his beautiful, tanned, golden skin and gorgeous red lips. I LOOOVEEEEEE IT SO MUCH I LOVE CURVES HERE AGAIN AAAAAAA I'll literally say it every time because it's the best part of your every set and I'm A COWARD TO MAKE MY GIFS TOO DARK AND DO THE CURVES THE WAY I WANT TO SKDJJSKS so i admire yours 😌✨

this gifset just simply brings me so much joy, it's like drinking a glass of cold water in the middle of the night, it's like feeling a warm gentle touch of sunlight on your skin when the sun is rising, it's like a fresh breeze ✨ again, stunning coloring, i love how you mixed oranges with this pastel blue and beiges you have kinda going there 🙇‍♀️ on its just so so so pretty AND ALSO OF COURSE /THEM/, THEY ARE JUST SILLY AND BEAUTIFUL, NEXT QUESTION

AJSHSJJSDKABSJDKSKKSS FIRST OF ALL THE ✨BONUS✨ IS LITERALLY ME @ YOU AFTER YOU DROPPED OF THIS GIFSET like you know i like this whole situation we have going on here wink wink how old was he in 2015 lemme do a quick math yeah 18 EIGHTEEN YEARS OLD WAS HE AND HE HAD THE AUDACITY TO LOOK LIKE THIS???? yeah no if i was a stan back then we would have a problem you know 👊✊🤜👊🤛✊👊 me looking like.... just nowhere near /this/ good..... at almost 20th year of my life is crying. i love the use of reds and brown here AND OF COURSE CURVES, MOVING ON

🍯🍯🍯🍯🍯!!!!!! THIS SET LOOKS LIKE A HONEY COMB!!!!! ❤️❤️❤️ i love how vibrant and bright the background is but you still managed to restore his skin into a perfect golden shade AHHHHHH it's so pretty

NEXT ONE IS DEDICATED FOR USER TAEYUNGIE IDK HER BUT SHE'S SURE DAMN LUCKY 🔊🔊🔊🔊 PLEASE i was so happy when you decided to make this set in the end 🥺🥺🥺 i belive i already screamed lots under the set in the tags but AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH it's amazing beautiful just gorgeous from head to toe (a gif i mean cuz clearly we cannot see his toes SKSJSJSKSJSK) A M A Z I N G coloring, veey warm very soft he just looks like a carmel with raspberry on top (WHY DO I USE SO MANY FOOD REFERENCES SKJSJSKS I'M NOT HUNGRY I SWEAR) BUT NO, FOR REAL. he just looks so cozy here and i wanna hug him so much 😔😔😔 long story short my mind and stomach perform pirouettes because i'm head over heels for this man. AGAIN THANK YOU SM BABY FOR DEDICATING THIS ONE FOR ME ❤️❤️❤️

we're here, we survived till the 10th and at the same time last gifset of this post, TIME TO POP THE CHAMPAGNE ✨ and scream a little but more because HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL I'M LITERALLY FEELING MYSELF EVAPORATING SJSJKSKSKS the contrast here is darker than usual AND I'M LOVING IT it's bringing all his best features also he just looks like a glazed donut which kinda makes me cry (WAIT I JUST REALIZED I AGAIN DID A GOOD REFERENCE SKJSJS WTF) BUT HIS GLOW 😭 HIS GLOW 😭😭✨ just amazing, it's inappropriate how much i spent staring at this set KSJSJSKSK

when i tell you that writing this one took me like... two hours. but it was totally worth it and purely out of love for your stuff. anyway, i deserve a kiss on the forehead 😌

creators send me 🎨 & I’ll tell you my favorite of your last ten creations and why

[yoongi-sugaglider]

Starry Nights and Hot Cocoa Delights

Based off of this request.

An artist struggling with the opening of his new art gallery seeks the solace of his favorite cafe in order to relieve a little but of stress.

Artist Taehyung x cafe owner Reader

Warnings: Fluffy fluff, lots of soft Tae blushing. More fluff...also fluff.

Word count : 2175

It never failed. When the chaos of everyday life got to be too much and he couldn’t find the peace he so desperately craved, he would come here.

A quiet coffee shop far removed from the busy main streets of Seoul and so infrequently visited that he always knew he’d be able to pick any seat in the place that he so desired.

Despite this he would make his way to the same table each time, a solitary seat by the window overlooking the street beyond. Though there wasn’t ever much to see besides the pigeons strutting their stuff as they looked for tasty morsels to snack on and the occasional cat looking to chase off said scavengers, he still preferred it.

 It granted him the sunlight and peace he craved, along with an open view of his favorite regular employee.

A soft jingle echoed through the shop as he made his entrance, a pencil case covered in the Van Gogh painting Starry Night Over the Rhone and his trusty sketchbook in hand.

A soft voice drew his attention to the register, the cheery smile that greeted him lifting his spirits almost instantly as he moved to take his place at the counter.

“Hello Mr. Kim. The usual today I take it?” Her soft eyed smile melted the ball of anxiety that’d sat at his core since he’d signed the lease that would allow him to finally open his own art gallery.

He nodded, wiping a finger at the bags that’d formed beneath his eyes from one too many sleepless nights.

“Yes please. And a blueberry scone to go with it if you would?” His low vocal tone sounded far gruffer to his own ears than he would have liked and so he shuffled hastily to his seat, hoping that she wouldn’t notice the bedraggled state he’d fallen into over the last few weeks.

After settling in at the window, he finally allowed himself the chance to observe his surroundings, noting that the slight change in decoration they’d applied didn’t take away from the homey feeling he’d grown to love and almost crave.

A few small paintings hung on the walls, surrounded by knicknacks situated on small wooden shelves painted a light white that seemed to have been sponged on to simulate clouds that contrasted well with the soft blue paint of the walls. The effect did leaps and bounds to open up the space, along with pastel yellow tables covered in various floral print table clothes and seated with matching tall backed chairs.

Taehyung hummed, leafing through his sketchbook to find a blank page among the chaos as he shifted the flower shaped salt and pepper shakers aside and placed his pencil case down. Pausing for a moment he glanced over to the cafe’s counter, noting with a smile the way the young woman attending it danced along to the music playing in a whispered murmur in the background. He watched her hips sway back and forth as she handed a drink to another customer with a to go order, only just realizing that the place was slightly more crowded than normal.

It seemed that every other table had one or another customer sat at it, enjoying their drinks while reading from their phones or participating in conversation with their fellow table mate. He thought it odd, though it didn’t seem to bother him nearly as much as he thought it would considering this had been his quiet respite in the chaos of city life.

Turning back to the blank page he sighed, taking out a pencil and tucking the tip between the moistened creases of his lips as he leaned back in his chair to stare blankly out of the window.

“One triple chocolate hot chocolate with nutella whipped cream and a blueberry scone.” The rasp of her voice drew him from his revelry and he turned his gaze from the pigeons fluttering across the sidewalk to meet the warmth of her eyes.

“Ah, yeah sorry.” He blushed, scratching the back of his neck as he pushed the sketchbook off to the side to make way for his order.

“It’s alright. I’m used to it from you Mr.Kim” She giggled, the sound brushing against his ears and sending a warmth through him that glowed forth in the apples of his cheeks.

After placing the large mug and plate on the table she slid into the seat across from him, catching him fully off guard as she untied her apron and hung it on the chair behind her.

“Um…” His blush only served to brighten as he glanced down at his plate, hoping to hide the hopeful glisten in his eyes.

“Ah, sorry, I hope this is okay? We’ve been so busy today and I haven’t had lunch. I’m honestly starving and I figured...well” Her voice trailed off and he dared glance up at her, only just realizing she’d had a plate of her own adorned with what looked to be the most delicious sandwich he’d ever seen in his life.

“It’s alright, I mean I don’t mind...it’s just well…” The ding of the bell hanging over the door interrupted him and he waved to the door before tucking his hands in his lap to hide the trembling of his fingers.

“Oh? The customers.” She giggled, the sound sending the fire in his cheeks running towards the tips of his ears and threatening to smother him.

“Well, thankfully I’ve got Seokjin covering me from the kitchen. If he weren’t here I swear I’d die from hunger most days.” She smiled, though it seemed to turn more shy the longer he stared at his plate.

“If...if you’re uncomfortable I can lea…”

“No!” He jolted at the volume of his voice, reaching out as if to stop her. “I mean, it’s alright. I don’t mind, really.”

Her laugh of relief calmed him and he chuckled in return, trying to cover the butterflies fluttering in the pit of his stomach by taking a drink from the whipped cream covered chocolate delight she’d served him.

The whipped cream itself was a rich chocolate and hazelnut flavor, melting on his tongue instantly and serving to chase away some of the exhaustion he’d been feeling. He sighed, closing his eyes and inhaling the aroma with a quiet hum of appreciation.

A gentle chuckle tore him from his revery and he blinked owlishly at the woman across from him, realizing with a jolt that his appreciation of the drink she’d made for him had caused her presence to be erased from his mind, if only for a moment.

“Oh, sorry. It’s just…” He scratched at the delicate patch of skin just beneath his ear as his cheeks burned. “Your hot cocoas are the best in the city and with all the stress I’ve been under I guess I really needed it…”

Her smile brightened as she watched him stutter over his words. “You know, we were supposed to take that item off the menu once spring arrived. The only reason why I keep the ingredients in stock is for you Mr. Kim.”

His eyes widened at her statement and he swallowed thickly before setting his mug delicately back in its saucer. “R...really? I mean, if it’s going to get you in trouble I would hate for you too have to…”

“Aish, I doubt the owner is going to mind. She’s pretty chill. And besides, you’ve basically become a regular. I would hate to lose you to somebody else’s hot chocolate.” She continued to smile as she picked up her sandwich, giving out a hum of appreciation as she took her first bite.

A companionable silence settled over them as they began to eat, each lost in their own little world as they stared at separate points beyond the glass of the window beside them. The silent murmur of conversation in the cafe served as a soothing backdrop, setting Taehyung at ease and allowing him to pick up the pencil with a confidence he hadn’t had in a long while and begin sketching mindlessly as he watched the birds beyond the window play.

“So, you’re an artist?” The melodic whisper floated to his ears, gaining his attention as he turned to his table mate.

“Mmm, I am. Though, I’ve been second guessing my career lately. Who knew opening up your own gallery would be so taxing?” He chuckled, brushing a crumb from the paper of his sketchbook as he watched her chocolate brown eyes search his face.

“Your own gallery huh? That does seem like quite the undertaking. It’s a wonder you’ve been coming in here looking so stressed lately.” She crumpled up the napkin that’d been wrapped around her sandwich, folding her arms before her on the table and watching as his fingers glided elegantly over the stark white paper.

“Yeah? Sorry about that...I mean I didn’t mean to.. Ah...aish!” He could feel that blush creeping up again as he reached up and brushed the hair away from his eyes.

“No no it’s alright.” Her giggle served to increase his blush as he laughed along awkwardly with her. “It’s just something I do. Noticing things about my regulars. Especially the cute ones.”

“The..c...you think I’m cute?” He practically choked on the words. Mentally he groaned at himself, knowing for a fact he was making a fool of himself and yet seeming wholly unable to prevent the drivel that continued to spew forth from some deep dark teenager with a first crush depth within himself.

She nodded, the faintest hint of a blush spreading to her own cheeks. It took everything in him not to coo at how adorable she looked in the rosy color.

“So uh...t...tell me about your gallery? What’s got you so bothered about it?” She tilted her head at the faint sigh that heaved forth from deep within him.

“Where do I even start?” He muttered to himself as he turned back to stare out the window.

“How’s about starting at the beginning, work your way through it. Maybe talking to someone who’s not in the middle of the drama will help. Heck if anything it’ll be good to get the worst of it off your chest.”

And so he did, spending the next almost half hour unloading on the sweet barista that sat across from him.

And he’d have gone on if it weren’t for the elder man that came sauntering up to their table, looking very much on the verge of being put out to pasture with the amount of stress he seemed to be under.

“Hey boss...we uh...we got a problem with Wednesday’s delivery and they’re not taking please as an answer.” He huffed, shoving his round rimmed glasses up his nose as he nodded to Taehyung in acknowledgment. “Think we need your particular brand of bargaining Ms. Ln.”

“Wait...L/n? As in L/n’s Bakery and boutique?” Taehyung stuttered, shock coursing through him as he realized he’d been talking to his favorite cafe’s owner this entire time.

“Ah, yeah that would be me.” She giggled, pushing away from the table and making to stand. “And as acting owner of this grand establishment, I think it’s about time I get back to work.”

Her smile served to brighten the blush that’d seemed to have made a permanent home on his cheeks in her presence.

“If you’ll excuse me Mr. Kim, it has been an absolute pleasure speaking with you. And don’t forget, give that contractor hell if you need to but don’t let them take you for your money.”

And in a flourish she vanished, disappearing into the kitchen area of the cafe before Taehyung could even think to bid her goodbye. He huffed out a chuckle, eyes finally glancing down to the sketchbook he’d been busy with this whole time.

An almost exact image of the woman he’d found himself infatuated with stared back at him, a singular beauty captured on paper in carbon smears from his pencil.

She was a beauty worth being the muse of any master artist. And he just so happened to have the pleasure of finally sitting down to a conversation with her.

By the time she returned from the back room Taehyung was gone, along with a good portion of the lunch rush customers, leaving the main dining area for her to clean up in preparation for the end of her shift.

By the time she’d made her way over to the table she’d shared with the attractive artist her arms were sore and her fingers smelled of dishwater. But that didn’t seem to matter as she picked up the intricate drawing that perfectly captured her smiling face.

A thrill rushed through her at the image, and a gasp left her lips as she spotted the message written in sprawling script at the bottom.

Xxx-xxx-xxxx call me sometime, maybe I can treat you to dinner as thanks for your excellent advice. Signed Kim Taehyung.

[2glassesofchianti]

This is an Eliot Spencer x Aimee Martin short based on a post about sleepy intimacy you can find here.  Especially for @tidalrace because there’s just not enough Eliot and Aimee sleepy fics out there!

Aimee filled the old tea kettle with water and put it on the stove, grabbing her favorite mug from the cupboard along with a peppermint tea bag. She reached up and rubbed her neck, sore after a long day with the new hire and a barn full of unbroken horses. A hot cup of tea, just like her Gran used to make, was what she needed to wash away the stress of the day.

She bobbed the teabag in the water, mesmerized by the waves it made in the cup. A knock at the front door broke into her thoughts. Frowning, she pulled a worn flannel shirt over her white camisole. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Besides, her friends used the back door that led into the kitchen, not the more formal front entrance.

Another rap at the door, this time louder with more urgency, and Aimee’s heart sped up as her steps quickened. What if it was bad news? Her father was under as much stress as she was, maybe more. After his health scare last year, she was worried that anything more might cause a mild heart attack. Rushing now to the door, she pulled it open, the solid wood door creaking as it slid open, and she sucked in a deep breath at the sight in front of her. “Eliot.”

Aimee hadn’t realized that she’d said his name aloud until she noticed the ever so slight reaction to her voice in his raised eyebrows. His hands were pushed into the pocket of his faded jeans, his shoulders were slumped, and he looked worn and tired, uncharacteristic for the normally virile man she knew. Sunken eyes cast down, he refused to meet her dazed stare. “Can I come in?”

Eliot’s voice was deep and gravelly, like a wounded animal. Taken aback by his request, it wasn’t like him to ask to enter her house, hell, it wasn’t like him to even be on her doorstep, Aimee only nodded and moved to the side to allow him to pass then turned and watched his feet take slow, deliberate steps toward the living room, noting a slight limp.

It wasn’t until he was under the full light of the living room chandelier that she began to realize why Eliot was here. A dark purple half moon shone under his left eye, his cheeks were chafed and red, and a cut on his lower lip had puffed it into a surprisingly enticing swollen plump. Moving her eyes downward she noticed that his forearms, bared by his trademark rolled-to-the-elbow sleeves, were peppered with fresh bruises and the knuckles on both hands were crusted over with blood.

Aimee had met Eliot’s ‘family’. They had helped her father, and it was a debt she would never forget, albeit one that she didn’t much care to owe to the likes of Eliot Spencer. Still, in a way it had helped heal the old wounds from Eliot leaving so many years ago. She had never really gotten over him, but his help with her father had gone a long way in mending the fence.

Still, knowing that new family of his, knowing what they did and how far they strayed from the center of legal – that sometimes kept Aimee awake at night. She worried that Eliot might get himself into trouble, he had a knack for that, and now here he was, bruised and bloodied and looking like he was fighting invisible demons inside his head. Knowing Eliot as well as she did, if he looked this bad, the other guy – she shuddered and pushed that thought away. She just hoped the other guy had lived to tell his story.

“Well don’t just stand there. You look tired enough to drop, and I’m not picking your ass up when you do. Sit down before you pass out, Eliot.” Aimee pointed to the overstuffed flowered sofa behind him. She shifted into her brusque, bossy mode that only Eliot could bring out. She couldn’t help it, it was self-preservation.

He didn’t protest, merely followed her orders quietly and sank down, his solidly built frame dipping deep into the soft cushions. The contrast of this physically imposing man against the soft pastel flowered print sofa should have been comical, but only Eliot Spencer could manage to look right at home.

As his body sank deeply into the soft cushions, his eyelids drooped slightly then popped open again, as he tried to force himself to look alert. It was barely perceptible, but Aimee noticed and softened a little. “I just brewed tea but you look like you could use something stronger. Whiskey?” Eliot nodded, and she heard a mumbled “mmmmmm” as she turned toward the kitchen.

Pulling two glasses from the cupboard, she poured the amber liquid into each and wondered what her life would be like if he hadn’t left all those years ago. Would this be their nightly ritual, sharing a glass of whiskey after a long day? She would rub his neck, massage the sore muscles, and release the tension. He would rub her back, fingers exploring her soft skin, sending electrifying jolts through her entire being. They would spend hours making love – raw, sexual passion carrying them through until the early morning hours when they would have to get up to tend to the farm, together. It was a life she had looked forward to once upon a time.

She shook her head to clear the thoughts, wishing she could un-think them. This Eliot was a different man than her high-school sweetheart. She knew, logically, that he had changed. Her heart, well, her heart hadn’t quite caught up with her head. Still, the young girl was somewhere inside of her and every time Eliot came around, damn if he didn’t bring those feeling right to the surface. She inhaled deeply, savoring the smell of the whiskey, and took a long sip to steady herself before facing him again.

Aimee rounded the corner to the living room with two glasses of liquid comfort but stopped short when she saw Eliot, sitting upright on the sofa, head tilted backward, eyes closed and breath coming in soft, murmured puffs. She cocked her head and smiled at the sight of him. He looked so peaceful, she didn’t want to wake him. Setting the glasses on the coffee table, she softly dropped down on the cushion next to him and felt him stir next to her. “I’m awake.” He snapped to attention and his body stiffened as he tried to gain control of his environment.

“Shhhhh.” Aimee cradled his head in her hands, softly threading her fingers through the long, silky strands of chestnut colored hair. It was longer now, it suited his gruff personality better, and it was kinda hot, although she wouldn’t admit that to anyone. She moved along the sofa, guiding his head down with his body, and nestled it in her lap. When he tried to protest, she pushed him back down. “Just settle down. You need to relax and sleep. You’re safe here. I promise.”

Her words seemed to soothe him, she felt his stiff form begin to unwind. She slumped against the cushion and wound her fingers through his soft hair, encouraged by the moans that came every so often from between his swollen lips. “Fingernails.” One word, Aimee knew precisely what he wanted, exactly what he needed, it was like he had never left. The tips of her fingers gently scraped his scalp, eliciting more pleas as he snuggled closer to her, “Mmmm. Don’t stop.” She smiled. Eliot was home.

[irkallanprince]

Blue Bunny

Fandom: Power Rangers (2017 movie) Rating: E FOR EXPLICIT! Warnings: You guys. I’m trash and wrote Easter themed porn so... sex.  Relationships: Jason Scott/Billy Cranston

(read on ao3)

Jason had gotten the most ominous sounding text and he rushed over as fast as he could.

HELP. I NEED U.

Of course knowing Billy Cranston it could have been anything. It could have been that he needed help opening a pickle jar. Sure they all had super strength but somehow the young ranger had a lack of coordination that he more than made up for in smarts. But it still resulted in more than several smashed jars in his path.

Still, when he got the the Cranston household, he checked around back to the door of Billy’s workshop. It was locked, but upon peering into the window he didn’t see any life inside. He walked around to the front of the house and noticed that the car was gone. Mrs. Cranston probably wasn’t home. When he got to the door, he twisted the knob to find it was in fact unlocked. Slowly, carefully he pushed his way inside.

“Billy?” He asked with trepidation in his voice. He breathed a sigh of relief when he heard an ’UP HERE!’ echo from out of his upstairs bedroom. Shaking his head, Jason made the slow climb up to his room and pushed the door open, where he stopped and blinked a few times before giving a nervous chuckle.

“Oh. You don’t like it. It’s fine. My bad.” Billy said earnestly. He was sprawled out on the bed wearing nothing but a pastel blue jockstrap with a puff on the backside like a bunny tail, and bunny ears. But still, when he was sure he’d been stupid he rose and started tugging at the fabric of the underwear. Jason stopped him, stepping inside and closing the door.

“O-oh n-n-no! No! You look… fuck.” Jason grinned, giving his lower lip a surreptitious little bite as his eyes scanned the way his boyfriend’s dark mocha skin contrasted with the pale blue color of his jockstrap, which he noticed now that he was standing had a little bunny on the front.

“...it’s Easter.” Billy said with a nod and a blink.

“Mom is out visiting my aunt. I don’t like my aunt. House smells like cats and her kids are loud.” He was always so blunt.

“I figured we could… celebrate?” Billy finally broke that steely face he always made to crack a half grin to the only person that was allowed to see it. Jason moved into the room and placed his hands on Billy’s shoulders, slowly ghosting his fingertips down his skin as he looked into his dark brown eyes.

“Yeah? Did you get me an Easter basket?” Jason said flirtatiously. Billy looked down with a half blush and let his fingertips walk up the center of his chest.

“Better.” He said, pushing him back on the bed.

“Let me show you.” He said, dropping to his knees in front of him. His dark hands slid inward up Jason’s thighs, stopping to feel the bulge that had grown in the center as he gazed up into his boyfriend’s impossibly blue eyes. He maintained eye contact as he fiddled with the buttons on his jeans, peeling them open like he was unwrapping a delicious Easter candy of his own. And soon enough, Jason’s pale, pink rod was full mast in front of him. He reached forward and gripped it, giving it a stroke as he looked up at his lover, then back down at their contrasting skin tones before leaning in and giving the underside a long sensuous lick. Jason shuddered.

“Easter bunny’s been good to me this year?” He smirked, leaning back on his elbows as he watched the boy go to work. His dark lips sealed around his ivory cock, sliding all the way down to the base. Jason groaned, his hand moving to the back of Billy’s soft head, encouraging him to continue with gentle pets to his hair. Billy continued on his mission, slicking Jason’s cock up and down with his tongue, savoring the taste. He still had those silly bunny ears on, and it was honestly a ridiculous sight, but Jason wouldn’t have it any other way.

“God Billy… y-you’ve gotten so much better at that…” He shivered. Not that Billy was ever bad at it, but they were teenagers and honestly each other’s first real experiences. So they mostly just fumbled around in the bedroom when they were experimenting. But this... there was a fucking costume involved. This required planning. Billy did his favorite thing; research. And by god was it paying off.

Billy’s lips popped off of Jason’s manhood and he looked up at him, stroking him with a boyish smile on his face.

“More?” He asked. Jason just gave him a grin and tugged him up into his lap, kissing him deeply on his lips. Then he pulled away as he ran his hand down his side with a mischievous grin.

“Well now I’ve got the poor defenseless bunny all to myself. Whatever shall I do?” He smirked, giving Billy big, playful eyes as he gave his behind a little smack. Billy yelped, and the heat rose to his face as he wiggled his butt in a manner that suggested he wanted more. Jason bit his lip, then kissed his Adam’s apple before suddenly shifting Billy’s position so he was over his knee, ass up in the air, pom pom tail wiggling. He gave his bottom another smack before rubbing the brown bubble with his hands softly.

“Does my little bunny want to play?” He asked, finding himself getting into this strange Easter themed kink. Billy had no words, only an ecstatic nod and a moan. Jason licked his lips for a moment before taking his two forefingers into his mouth, sucking them for a moment. Then he brought them down to Billy’s crack, circling his purple pucker as he listened to his boy mewl.

“You like that, bunny boy?” He purred a bit. He didn’t wait for an answer, just slowly sank his fingers into his lover all the way to the knuckle. Usually Billy Cranston was a man of either little words, or blunt and to the point. But today he was all squeals and incoherent sounds. And secretly Jason loved it. Savored the fact that he was the only person that could make Billy feel this way. Everyone else he wouldn’t allow near him, and touching was definitely off limits. But Jason Scott was Billy’s sex kryptonite, and he planned to keep it that way.

Jason moved his fingers in and out of Billy’s tight orifice, leaning down to kiss and whisper into his ear.

“That’s my good boy. Talk to me, baby. What does the Easter Bunny want in his basket?”

Billy was a squirming mess, a thrashing confusing mess of sounds and emotions. And Jason’s hot breath and words on his ears just made everything even more heightened. His dick was already leaking through the powder blue jock, and he greedily pushed his bottom back against his boyfriend’s intruding fingers. And then Jason teased him with that question. Jason knew he didn’t like to put much into words, especially when it was something that made him so bashful like sex. But at the same time… Jason made him so hot. And he was the easiest person to talk to for Billy, so he relented. Only for Jason.

“Mmm...nng… I-I w-w-want you Jason… I… f-fuck me?” He managed to get out between quivers. Jason just met him with a grin, pulling his fingers out of Billy’s anus and suckling them before giving his butt another playful swat.

“I can do that.” He said with a grin, slipping off the bed and throwing off his jacket, then wiggling out of his pants.

“Keep the bunny ears on though.” He smirked. He came up behind him, spitting into his hand and slicking up his already pulsating rod.

“You ready for it, baby?” He said, leaning down and kissing a trail up his back. At the end of the day he was just a romantic when it came to Billy. Billy went flush once more, pushing back when he felt the head at his entrance.

“Yeah.” He said, following through with his lack of words. Jason then pressed in, slow and steady, until finally his pelvis met his backside. All the while he pressed sweet little kisses against his jawline.

“Gotta say…” He gasped a bit, slowly pushing in and out of him before reaching to Billy’s front and pulling his own manhood from the pouch of his jock.

“Never had an Easter Basket this good before.” He purred a bit, stroking Billy as he pushed up inside him. Billy gripped the headboard of his bed with a low whine as he pushed back against the red ranger’s girth. Jason was always the talker. Always the master of filth and dirty talk, while Billy just met him with blushes and groans. But it was okay. They both preferred it that way. Jason actually enjoyed how speechless he kept the adorable little blue ranger. It was these private little moments that he enjoyed best. The other rangers would never see this side. It was special for the both of them.

But now a thin layer of sweat was beading on both of their bodies, skin sliding against each other like butter. Jason’s lips stayed glued to the side of Billy’s face, spoiling him with kisses as his hand did pleasant work to Billy’s tender front side. Billy could feel the heat rising, the breath hitching in his throat as the pace quickened. And suddenly he couldn’t contain himself, crying out as he shot out down Jason’s fist, ejaculate dribbling down his fingers to the mattress below. Jason met him with his own incoherent babble, flooding Billy’s inner walls with his own deposit as his breath released forcefully against his jaw. As they slid together to a slowed stop, Jason collapsed on the bed and pulled him down with him. They were sticky and slimy and filthy now, but Billy didn’t mind Jason’s touch all the same. Only Jason’s touch. The doofy blonde leaned over and kissed the side of his head before pulling him to his body.

“I love you, Blue Bunny.” He chuckled, tapping his nose.

“Happy Easter.”

[beneaththewillowtreewriting-blog]

Sweet moments

So this is just a little thing (based on a bigger thing) that I made for a friend for her birthday. Nothing too bad so there’s not drop thing, but still enough to get her fangirl blood warm heh heh

Happy Birthday Boo! I’m sorry I didn’t get this done in time but I hope you like it! You’re such a good friend to me and I wouldn’t have been able to finish this without thinking of your excitement, feeling so relived from your understanding near the end, and seeing your reaction. Love you @boocup​~ I hope this tagged or mentions you properly cause I’ll be pretty mad if I mess it up lol.

PLEASE DON’T REPOST THIS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION OR AT LEAST PUT A LINK TO THIS BLOG OR I WILL FIND YOU. And if I made any grammar or spelling mistakes I’m sorry. I’m learning to write better so bare with me.

 The walls of the master bedroom, located on the second floor of the spacious family sized home, was painted a light and refreshing shade of pastel green, covering every corner of the room from the bottom white molding to the ceiling. At this late hour of the night, it looked soft and gentle touch in the darkness. Furniture and material items were scattered on the stained wood floor; an overstuffed dresser against one wall, a bookcase crammed with reading materials and nick-nacks stood against another, clothes scattered on the floor in a small pile, recent tossed in close proximity to the large bed on a pale brown and cream-colored rug on another. And framing them were white painted windows that looked out beyond at the world, each one like a picture.

 Past the deathly still curtains and a few books, papers, and potted plants that sat on the different ledges, was the endless night sky and the world as the men who lived in the home knew it. The different views from the bedroom consisted of the other houses, the edge of trees from a nearby forest, and the distant lights of a city far beyond the roofs and treetops. Up above the earth and the world of the living, the stars twinkled in a rainbow of colors next to the other celestial bodies of the planets, some in blues and reds, some in solid shades of white, and some no more than pinpricks holes in a deep blue and black blanket. Like gems from the bottom of the sea, their light grew and shrank as they seemingly danced, but never flickered out. Some shined brighter than others, but they were all equally beautiful in the glorious night sky.

 And like how people gaze and watch them, come of the scattered nocturnal lights watched the two lovers; peeking through the cream curtains with eternal eyes from their places so high above. They watched the two men lovers caught in a moment of passion so strong and sweet, even the gods of old could marvel and wonder if was real, how one could love another with so much truth in their hearts.

 Both of the men in the room of springtime leaves had blonde hair of slightly different shades and styles. One was a paler wheat color with a slight wave to his locks, while the other had more golden sun kissed hair, falling straighter in comparison. Both sporting hair that seemed to either curl like a witling flower or stand up like a cowlick, which only added to their appeal.

 Physical, their arms and long legs were thick with just the right amount of muscles to convey strength and beauty while their stomachs and lower torso could have been inspired from the abdominal muscles of classical marble statues. And finally, between their nicely toned thighs (one set being bigger than the other wink) was their members. Both were easily eye catching, but not only for their girth and length, which they could both be considered above average, but for how they can blow past all other men when they used it. They knew how to make people say the most sensual and gratifying noises using their one of a kind bodies. And when they knew the all the things that turned a person on, they’d give them one hell of a ride. One they won’t forget.

 But with two bed breakers in one room, it’d be understandable to image what they can when combining their abilities in…those matters. But tonight, the men claimed these precious moments for a sweet fluttering experiment rather than heart racing ones. A drizzle of rain before the heavy thumping of the storm is always appreciated after all.

 They were both utterly naked on the bed together, their bodies pressed in a loving embrace as they gave small kisses to each other’s cheeks and more passionate ones on their lips. The only evidence that there was anyone there in the dark room was their soft, but deep breaths and the rustle of the blue sheets. The man on top, Matthew, whose wavy hair framed his astonishing amethyst purple eyes, held one Alfred’s hands, whose own eyes were as clear and blue as a summer sky. Both men had pale complexions and normally wore matching square glasses. They also had similar looking faces and contrasted personalities. Matthew was the quiet but kind type and more likely to be worry or concerned over something small, while the latter was loud and cheerful, with a smile that could melt anyone’s heart. Even witch such varying personalities, they didn’t repel each other like magnets.

 They were like the old saying, that opposites attract, like no other two forces in this world. This force both strong as steel and sweet as sugar water. That’s how to describe them and their connection.

Looking closely at them, at the breathless and curious scene of the two utterly smitten lovers in bed, it can make the mind wander with images that invoke familiarity. Some might think, in the wildest and freest of ways, that the two powerful men with bodies so beautifully craved like great Greek and Roman statues, could be imagined as great warriors, caught in a moment of passion after a long and hard-fought battle. Leaders of opposite armies who have come together for a night of long, sweet passion., built from the newly bloomed love.

Laying there, with their hands clasped tightly together and their mouths captured in never-ending kisses, their hearts beating like drums to a great, booming song. Harder and faster the rhythm went, shaking their chests with dizzying breathes. When they first ever kissed and took their feelings to the next level the beating was irregular and hardly coordinated. But slowly, as time when on, it became a strong bass duo, their minds communicated through their eyes, with growing pupils like eclipsed suns, and their hearts knew how to follow. And even with their eyes closed, they knew the song by heart.

 But, while they wanted this night to be calm and romantic…it wasn’t enough. The time they’ve spent together, about a few hours as of this moment, had barely satisfied the fiery desire that lingered deep in their muscles and veins. The eternal whispers of urging sung deep in their bones; tempting them to swiftly take the other in shared mutual passion.

 Laying on the bed together like this, their legs touching each other’s skin on the soft sheets, the beasts of their nature slowly shifted from their slumber once again in the warm darkness of their bodies, sending shivers under their pale skin in anticipation of what awaits in the reminder of the night.

Alfred placed a hand on Matthew’s bare chest and gently nudged him back with his palm, looking up with red kissed lips that were tilted to a smile. It made little wrinkles form in the corners of his eyes, causing Matthew to smile back in response to his sweetheart. He was a sucker for Alfred’s smiles, especially when it was in a peaceful and tender moment like this.

 Their heavy breaths mixed and made each other drowsy from their natural scents, warm and damp on their cheeks and lips in the nearness. They panted as if they’ve just run a thousand miles for this embrace and not from the heated kiss. Matthew’s hand released Alfred’s and touched the smooth, heated skin on his thigh, trailing his thin fingers till his sexy cheerful lover gasped from the sensitivity as he reached between his legs.

 His smile changed into a smirk the moment his thumb touched the tip of Alfred. “I get to lead the dance this time you know. So, don’t even think about trying to switch on me, or else I’ll make the walls shake~” He said, and Alfred saw the glint in his eyes change like a shadow, a not so visible sign that Matthew’s beast had awaken, and that it was hungry for him.

Fin~(maybe)

[absurdvampmuse]

Vanilla Milkshakes

And all I knew was that I was in the mood for something sweet…

Jughead was occupying his usual seat in his typical booth at Pop's Shoppe, fingers flying over the keys of the laptop he has had for too long but still hadn't updated since it functioned just fine as a place to write and store his stories on. With concentration creasing his brow and two now-empty cups of the coffee that Pop always freely supplied Jughead with within reaching distance, was how Betty found him. She had spotted him instantly, his colorless ensemble and crown beanie standing out amongst the pops of color and cliques of friends. Betty debated for a few fleeting seconds whether she should seek out his company, but Jughead's particular dose of reclusion was exactly what she wanted. So, she made her way over to him and slid into the booth across from him without making her presence known beforehand or asking.

Jughead's head tilted up only the slightest amount as he regarded the fair-haired and fair-skinned girl, noticing the minor pout her lips held, the redness that lingered in her eyes and the way she kept her limbs close to her body as if she could turn herself invisible by simply doing so. She held onto the silence, not disturbing him until he was ready, something he had always appreciated dearly when it came to her. Finally, after finishing the paragraph in front of him, Jughead met Betty's eyes over his laptop, hands already at the top of the screen so he could push it closed. "You're not looking so lively over there, Betts. What's the matter?"

She pulled up her shoulders, shrugging off whatever she was dealing with because she was having second thoughts about burdening him with it. It was right there in her body language and blue eyes that have always been overly expressive. It still annoyed him to no end when she backpedaled like this. "I don't want to interrupt your creative process."

He closed his laptop with a roll of his eyes. "You wouldn't have sought me out if that had indeed been your intention. Now, tell what it is that has managed to steal your sunshine away."

He didn't formulate it as a question, but more as a demand, knowing that this was the best way to incite her.

Betty crossed her arms on the table, resting her chin on them as she looked up at him, a miserable look dulling the bright blue of her eyes. "I'm not sure how much of this you actually want to hear."

Jughead leaned one elbow on the table, cupping his hand and making a 'bring it on' gesture with his fingers. "Give it to me anyway."

She sighed, lifting her head from her arms. "So, I don't know if you know this, but I've basically had this crush on Archie ever since I was old enough to have them, crushes," she blurted out without taking a breath.

One of his eyebrows quirked up in amusement, though he managed to keep a serious expression on his face. "You holding a torch for the town's heartthrob is news to me."

She narrowed her eyes at the blatant sarcasm in Jughead's voice. Flattening her palms against the table, she made to get up. "Never mind," she murmured. "Happy writing," she added as a lackluster afterthought while getting up. She tapped her nails against the hard surface a few times as she stood there, lost in thought as if she already forgot what she was doing.

The guilt hit him instantly and he cursed silently at himself for not being able to read people better and recognizing the idiosyncrasies that made up Betty Cooper, even though he knew that he was simply not paying enough attention. He felt an influx of disappointment skitter down his spine and his body reacted on impulse as his hand shot out and his fingers wrapped around Betty's wrist, keeping her right where she was. "I'll attempt to reign in my sardonic nature," he offered up somewhat apologetically. "Stay?"

She bit her lip, considering him. In the end, she only nodded and sat back down, crossing her arms and not looking at the boy who had hair so dark it reminded her of a starless night. The lack of light had always suited him. "I know we're only friends because of Archie, but I need you to not be biased."

The words weren't meant to cut as deep as they did, reminding Jughead only of how much his friendship with Archie had changed in the course of months. People weren't always what they seemed, too many sides to them to truly know them unless they bared them candidly and willingly. He scoffed. "And risk my integrity. Plus, you forget that Archie and I aren't exactly besties anymore, though that's a story for another time."

Betty didn't react to his words the way he had expected. She didn't ask for clarification of any kind. She merely stored the information for later and continued on. "I told him, Juggy. About how I feel, everything, just put it all out there."

"His reaction?" Jughead inquired, surprised to find that he didn't have to feign his interest in the answer. Deep inside there was a faint throb that echoed through his entire body, keeping the lines of his body taut as he sat there, waiting.

"Isn't it obvious?" Betty used both hands to indicate at herself and the hints of the distressed state she had been in minutes before walking in here. "He loves me." She shrugged. "But as his closest friend, nothing more. And if I'm being honest with myself, I knew it. I should've just kept my mouth shut." She looked down while wrapping her arms protectively around herself as if it could shield her heart. Betty quickly blinked away the tears.

A feeling of dread wrapped its metaphorical digits around his heart, squeezing hard enough for the pain to resonate. He focused on that emotion instead of on the relief he also felt at her words. "You shouldn't regret being honest," Jughead told her gently. "Yeah, you went out on a limb, but with all the time you two spend together and the mixed signals Archie tends to give off, I don't blame you for wanting to know where you stand."

"In the friendzone, apparently," Betty chided herself. Tears formed once again and she ducked her head quickly, wiping the droplets from her cheeks as they fell.

"You'll be alright in the end. You're strong," were the words of comfort Jughead contributed in a somewhat ungraceful matter since alleviating somebody's pain wasn't something he did often or well. He tended to run. But it was Betty and she didn't waver when it came to standing up for everybody but herself, so she needed him to try for her.

Betty nodded. "I know, I just hate having to be sometimes."

"Understandable." He granted her a timid smile.

Betty nodded again, taking a deep breath. She was about to thank Jughead for listening, but she wasn't permitted the chance to.

"Hey bae," were the words thrown at her by none other than Reggie, the prime colors of his jacket a bright contrast to Jughead's gray tones and Betty's pastel tints.

One of Jughead's eyebrows shot up in, eyes torn from the blond in front of him.

Betty's jaw tightened and her lips pressed together for a split second, annoyed by the football player's sudden and unwanted presence. She tolerated Reggie because how could she downright loathe him for simply being an athlete and popular when Archie was those things as well. Still, she tended to only interact with him when directly spoken to and only when part of a group, which typically included Archie or Veronica. The irony wasn't lost on her, especially considering how seamlessly her appearance allowed her to slip into a stereotype of her own.

"Don't call me that," Betty retorted, aware of how halfhearted it really sounded. Reggie was a nuisance but mostly harmless.

Reggie directed a wide grin at Betty while signaling to both her and Jughead with his index finger as he formed his own conclusion, "You two on a date or something?"

Jughead rolled his eyes. "Because it's impossible for a male and female to form and sustain a platonic relationship." And he truly meant what he was saying, although he also heard the feelings that were lurking near the surface.

"Uh, one always ends up humping the other," Reggie pointed out, the sarcasm lost on him.

"That's quite the imagery there, Mantle," Jughead replied, sharing a quick look with Betty.

The blond let out an exasperated sigh, though managed to hold on to her characteristic composed demeanor. "We're not on a date, Reggie. Just hanging out. Is there something we can help you with?"

Jughead shook his head at her, but it was a fruitless gesture. Reggie had already taken the opening, his grin expanding. "Maybe you can," he said, sliding into the booth next to Betty while slinging one arm around the back so it was resting behind her. "As you know I am quite a popular commodity amongst the ladies."

"In your humble opinion," Jughead remarked.

"You wouldn't know the first thing about that, Forsythe," the other boy shot back, although he didn't spare a look in Jughead's direction, his focus instead on Betty. "But the pool's looking a little shallow these days and then I came to the realization that we," he paused to point at Betty and then at himself, "never went out before."

Betty straightened in her seat as she felt Reggie's fingers toying with the edges of her ponytail. Her blond locks slipped from his hold. "I don't date much."

"Well, you should," Reggie voiced his opinion. "You're hot, Betty. You think you're hiding it from us with all those clothes…"

"It's a blouse and a pair of jeans," Betty specified.

Reggie ignored her words and she wondered if he was indeed so clueless or that he was merely steering the conversation so that he would ultimately get what he came for. "Showing a little skin is preferable, just putting it out there for our date."

He ended with a smile that was charming enough and was meant to disarm, but Betty was jaded. She knew the intent behind his shiny exterior and was holding out for something more, even though she also recognized that this wasn't one of those romance novels she sometimes indulged in. "I'm not going out with you, Reggie," she declared to him candidly.

"Come on, Betty," Reggie tried again, leaning in a little closer to her while his gaze turned too leering for her comfort. "I'll make it worth your while."

She placed a hand on his chest, stopping him from thrusting himself into her personal space even further. "I think I'll pass," she said with just a tad more force behind her words.

Reggie's expression was incredulous as he took in what she was saying. "Is it cause of Forsythe here." He cocked his thumb at the beanie-donning teenager. "Because I always thought he preferred the—"

"You would," Betty cut him off sharply.

Reggie's eyes widened and the lines of his body tensed. "Someone's getting defensive." He nodded. "I see what's going on here. Does Archie know? Or are you double dipping, Cooper?" He clucked his tongue, leaning in close once more so only Betty could hear the following words. "So prim and proper when you're secretly a real sl—"

The word never fully formed, something Betty was grateful for because she would have lashed out, even though they were only intended to hurt at the moment and didn't really hold any meaning at all. Jughead got up and had his hands on Reggie's jacket before the other boy could react, pulling him from the booth with unexpected force. "That's enough," Jughead announced, letting go of Reggie the instant the boy was on his feet, a firm believer that violence only exacerbated situations. "She said no, so take the hint and meander off."

"Whoa whoa." Reggie put up both of his hands. "No need to get handsy. Save it for your girlfriend," he added with a wink. He adjusted his jacket. "If you need any pointers, come find me." He chuckled, giving Betty one final look before walking off.

Jughead waited until Reggie had left the diner before sitting back down.

"Thanks, Juggy," Betty acknowledged. "For listening as well, and not picking a side," she finished the list.

Jughead nodded, smiling at her.

Betty's face revealed a wisp of a smile as well, one she tried to get the attention off of by lowering her gaze and reaching for a menu. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "Unless you have to get back to your writing, of course."

"I can make time," Jughead gave her the answer she was hoping for, not ready yet to leave his company.

Betty's eyes didn't so much as skim the menu since she knew it by heart. She put it back in its place while signaling one of the waitresses. "A large basket of fries and two milkshakes." She eyed Jughead.

"I've always been prone to vanilla." A vanilla milkshake had never tempted Jughead as much as it did right at this moment.

"Two vanilla milkshakes, please," Betty continued, unable to hide the faint pink color that had spread to her cheeks.

Something about Jughead's words felt intimate as if they were meant to contain more than a simple milkshake flavor. As if the flavor was somehow associated with her. All she could picture were his lips around the straw and she didn't know where to look.

Therefore, after their order came, both Betty and Jughead sipped their milkshakes and ate their fries in a contemplative silence, his mouth full of vanilla and her mind full of him.

[foxcroft-rpg-blog]

“Oh Lord, Oh Lord, what do I do? I’ve fallen for someone who’s nothing like you. He’s raised on the edge of the devil’s backbone, oh I just wanna take him home.”

CASSIDY HOLLOWAY / TWENTY-THREE

↳ LORE

He lights up the world around you not only because you love him, but because in contrast he is the darkness. You try not to look at his hands as an effort to forget what he’s done, to push away any negative thoughts and your mother’s warnings. You’re going to save him, you think. His hands slide over your shoulders and you feel sunshine in your skin, but as his hands lift off your body a hollowness creeps over you and you think to yourself that you never want to feel so empty again. 

CASSIDY HOLLOWAY IS HUMAN. 

trigger warning: abuse

↳ STORY

With a rosary in every room and a cross on the front door, Cassidy Holloway grew up believing in much more than just God. There wasn’t a day that the house she grew up in didn’t smell sweet and warm like freshly baked bread; her mother always taught her the value of a home cooked meal. Cassidy learned to value kindness and compassion from her mother, and forgiveness and strength from her father. As a child she wondered where the purple and yellow marks on her mother’s throat came from and why she got so upset when Cassidy mentioned them, but as she aged she came to know the answer, and years later she would use the same techniques her mother used to cover the same bruises. A mix of compassion, religion and a touch of self-righteousness would lead her down a path to becoming the messiah of the broken. She forgave her father for what he did to her mother and she learned to be strong when her mother couldn’t be. Cassidy cooked and cleaned when her mother holed herself up in the bedroom and didn’t come out. She entertained her father so that he would leave her mother be. Cassidy did what she could to stop the violence that stained her youth, and while she couldn’t always save her mother she certainly always tried. 

At eighteen Cassidy had enough money to move out, but she didn’t leave until she was twenty-one. Her mother finally decided her safety was more important than her religion, and her father learned that there were younger women who sometimes liked it when he hit them. So at twenty-one years old Cassidy Holloway uprooted her life and bought the only place she could afford, a tiny white house that was taller than it was wide. The drywall was cracking and she never got much sleep because the house was in a business area downtown. On top of that the ventilation was terrible so all the smells from outside blew inside, but all her smells, including the smell of her mother’s bread, blew out. People knocked on her door at least once a week asking about the smell. A year later, Cassidy moved all her things to the two upstairs rooms and opened a tiny bakery downstairs – Sticky Fingers. She made everything with honey instead of sugar, a tribute to her mother’s cooking. Her sweet treats and downtown location quickly made her bakery a town favorite, and in turn Cassidy became a town favorite as well, especially to some of her customers. 

He didn’t look like he belonged, and really he didn’t fit in among the couples and old women in pastel-colored sweaters. His dark hair and sharp jean jacket was just about everything she and her bakery weren’t. Cassidy wondered who he was, why he was there, but when she tried to strike up friendly conversation he danced around the questions she asked. Who was he? In the next six months Jack Ramsay grew on Cassidy, and it was apparent that Cassidy had grown on him as well. They became involved, but Jack insisted they keep things quiet, between them. He told her he loved her and held her close when they slept; to Cassidy it felt like he thought he was going to lose her. She loved him, but she knew so little about him, and perhaps that was why. Cassidy could make up her own stories about why he left the same purple and yellow on her skin that her father had left on her mother. She could believe that she could save him, that once he opened up she’d know how to fix him. Tell me something, she’d say late at night, looking into his eyes for answers; sometimes he’d tell her a story and sometimes he’d just get angry. From time to time Cassidy thinks of her mother and what she’d think of him, but lately any doubts Cassidy has had all fade away when he touches her. His arms on her shoulders send a warm sensation through her whole body and she just feels happy to have him as her own, but when he’s gone the doubts, and more recently a hollow feeling creeps over her. 

THE MASKS YOU KNOW, THE PEOPLE YOU DON’T …

[qualitytacolover]

Silver ombre hair: the 18 hottest color combinations this year

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Silver ombre hair: the 18 hottest color combinations this year

A silver ombre hair is a hair color that is darker at the roots and gradually turns into a silver or gray shade when it goes down the tips. This technique on silver curls can also be combined amazingly well with other fashion colors such as pastel and blonde.

This is trend that’s equally mystique and edgy and is incredibly versatile, matching any skin tone there is! Silver could be a challenging color to wear on its own because of its lightness, but going with the ombre style makes the journey much easier and laid-back.

Experienced colorists recommend using hair-strengthening and moisturizing products to keep your strands in a healthy state and prevent damage from coloring your hair with an unnatural shade.

Ciara, Nafessa Williams, Kelly Osbourne and Cardi B showed with their latest fashion statements how feasible this sexy hair color is. In addition, the specialist for color corrections, Lidia Prass, has brought the magic that comes from silver and beach waves to life.

You are one step away from your stylish dream! Choose your favorite photo of Silver Ombre Hair from the updated gallery below and capture the look right away!

Brown and silver

How would you describe this look?

This color is described as an icy pearl balayage. It is an intriguing color to look at because of the high contrast of the blonde to the darker base color. I love dimension and contrast in hair color because it keeps it from being blah or too simple. Her cut is very soft and has a ton of texture which complements a curled style perfectly!

Any advice for someone who is thinking about it?

This color is hard to get for most people because it is so bright. A customer's previous color history and darkness of natural color are factors that contribute to achieving that color. Customers with virgin hair and naturally lighter hair color can get this look fairly easily. This look is ideal if you are satisfied with a color that needs more maintenance. Proper salon products, minimal washing, and thermal styling are required to maintain this look.

If you have a lifestyle where you have to wash your hair frequently, this is not the right color for you. A big advantage of this color, however, is that it complements a variety of skin tones. It fits wonderfully to light to light women, but also complements medium brown to brown skin tones!

Blond to silver

How would you describe this look?

I loved creating this metallic silver ombre! I also went in and gave her a few fine layers to improve the movement in her thick hair. I love the soft blend in the silver and how soft, shiny and healthy it is when it uses the right care at home and the right pH in its lighter when it is in.

Any advice for someone who is thinking about it?

There are a few things to consider when choosing silver. Above all, it's a process! Your hair must be white blonde before you can be silver, and that can take several appointments. It is also important to use proper care at home when undergoing such a process, otherwise the integrity of the hair will be compromised. Silver is also a very easy-care color. I usually recommend to my customers that they come back every 4-6 weeks to make it shiny fresh, depending on the customer.

Ash blonde and silver

How would you describe this look?

This look is a light ash blonde balayage. The cut was made with a razor to achieve feather-light rather than blunt ends. The style is loosely brushed curls or curls on the beach with a 1.5-inch curling iron.

Any advice for someone who is thinking about it?

With this look, you can achieve the bright white appearance of the bleach without the rough root growing back and appointments being retouched every 4 weeks. I think it's best suited for someone with naturally ashen hair because the silvery blonde can make a strong contrast to naturally warmer hair.

For blonde hair, I always recommend having a purple shampoo ready when the toner starts to fade. I recommend Milkshake Purple Shampoo to really get rid of unwanted shades. If your hair is drier, I recommend Evo Hair Purple Conditioner.

It is also important to remember that there is a risk of damage with every blonde transformation. To avoid this, I recommend using Olaplex treatments (# 3 or 6) before the appointment and asking your stylist to use Olaplex 1 & 2 throughout the process, up to 70% of the break during your appointment to avoid. This is a really great style for anyone trying to get on board with the icy platinum look but not ready to commit to the frequent appointments of a full-on bleach-out.

Silver and platinum blonde

How would you describe this look?

It is a silver blonde with dimensional and shadow roots. What I like about this color is the transition from the root to the ends of the hair color. I assume that her natural hair level is between (level 5-6) lightest brown-dark blonde and her hair target is between ice blonde to silver blonde, which is light blonde and extra light blonde (level 10-12).

The most important and difficult part is a natural transition from natural hair color to silver blonde if the customer wants a really light color, including silver blonde, ice blonde or platinum.

I bleached and tinted her hair to make it lighter, and created about an inch or two of dark root to blend gently between her natural hair color and this, even as her natural hair grows again. I would also give her a blunt cut to clean the tips of her hair. It is better to style naturally than to curl your hair with a curling iron.

Any advice for someone who is thinking about it?

You need time to make hair from natural dark brown or light brown blonde. In general, it really depends on how much red pigment the hair has. Asian hair has more red and brown pigment. It takes a long time for Asian hair that has dark brown hair to have this silver blonde color. Two or more sessions may be required. During the first visit, it takes five to seven hours to get lighter and firmer. The hardest thing is to bleach the hair to lighten as much as possible in one session.

Don't shampoo your hair too often as this will quickly fade the hair color. You can use dry shampoo between shampoos. Invest in a good dry shampoo to keep hair fresh. Try to keep the water as cool as possible while using the shampoo, as hot water will cause the color to fade faster.

Use sulfate-free shampoo instead of normal shampoo with a high sulfate and pH value, such as Fanola Fiber Fix shampoo, sulfate-free shampoo of formula 18, joico sulfate shampoo, etc.

Use purple shampoo once a week or every two weeks. It helps prevent silver blonde or blonde hair from returning to a warmer and yellow hue, as purple pigments help to lift it.

Silver metallic

The drop in this one is oh so good! We serve you caramel blonde, brunette and of course silver, my goodness!

Black and silver on short hair

How would you describe this look?

This look is a textured, angled bob with a contrasting silver ombre. I love the drama of all opposites! Short to long and dark to light!

Any advice for someone who is thinking about it?

Silver, pastel and ash tones are always the best groomed hair colors, especially if you have naturally dark hair. The most important thing is that it is almost never accessible in one session! Baby steps and many Olaplex treatments always pay off. Regular toning appointments and purple shampoo and conditioner will also be your best friend. My favorite is Pravanas Perfect Blonde Shampoo and Toning Mask.

Silver and pink

How would you describe this look?

I love the silver and pink ombré look. The color scheme goes well together and this little piece of pink gives it a nice pop. It's styled with layers and uses 1.25 in the curling iron to give it gentle waves and complete the look.

Any advice for someone who is thinking about it?

Achieving a silver look means being patient, and taking care of your hair with Olaplex is always my recommendation. To keep the pink in the end, she also bought the Schwarzkopf BlondMe Instamatic Blonde Strawberry. To keep her silver, she uses the No Yellow Fanola Purple Shampoo.

Silver and purple

How would you describe this look?

This look was inspired by a flower on a foggy day. It's a beautiful metallic with a bit of creative fun. I like the contrast between the colors, but also how they mix.

Any advice for someone who is thinking about it?

This is a great haircut for all face shapes as the layers frame the face. As for home care, I would definitely recommend a colourfast shampoo and conditioner to keep the color. My favorite is Olaplex shampoo and conditioner. I would also recommend using cold water to wash your hair so it doesn't fade and bleed.

Silver ombre on dark brown hair

Dark roots to ashy ends, these types of transitions always look stunning. Upgrade these silver colors with gentle waves and an ombre!

Brown to silver

The softest chocolate color with vanilla ends. This is the ultimate sweet dream!

Silver and blue

Yes, you can wear two colors in one without the boldness of an ombre! Check out this wonderful blue-silver paint job.

Silver lavender

Just when you thought silver hair would seal the deal, silver lavender is the next big thing you can get! The silky texture with the cut brings these shimmering colors to life!

Silver and lilac

Reminds you of a fairytale garden? Make this pixie-colored hair swing, ideal for thick-haired girls, to tear themselves to pieces.

Silver and white

Leave your roots dark and change shades of silver and white to your hair. Naughty and wild, such a cold-blooded look!

Red to silver

Sparkling ruby ​​red is the hair color you never thought possible! A patient time in the chair would lead to this wonderful mix of colors.

Silver and rose gold

An ombre has reached the next level. Color combination, technique and haircut result in a flawless look.

Dark to light silver

The wispy ends with a lighter shade correspond to this whole dark, mysterious look. A flawless balayage job you have to try!

Silver and purple

It doesn't get any better than with a little silver and purple. Carefully balancing these colors created the most ethereal look.

The post silver ombre hair: this year's 18 hottest color combinations appeared first on popular hairstyles.