#just that i want this to be a place where i can see cool art and fandom stuff

[girliism]

priest in training au

art waited for you outside the campus church. peeking around the corner every now and then until you finally walked out giggling with your friends. “psk.” art called out. when you looked to where the sounds were coming from you saw art, your boyfriend motioning for you to come to him.

you said goodbye to your friends before walking over to where art stood, looking back behind you to see if anyone was watching. the second you’re in arms length art’s hands reached out to grab your forearms, pulling you to him and pushing you against the brick wall. the sound of surprise you make is swallowed by art’s lips on yours. the kiss is quite eager on his part. “art, wait.” you say in between the kiss. you drop the books in your hands to push at art’s shoulders when his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“art!” you whisper shouted, hand covering your mouth. “stop, someone could see us.” you looked around to make sure no eyes were prying. art pressed a chaste kiss on your burning cheek letting both his hands rest on your waist. “sorry, i’ve just been wanting to do that all day.” he laughed softly and you bit back a smile. “but i um actually wanted to ask you if wanted to the drive-in tonight. like as a date.” a date? yours and art’s first date.

you look at art, eyes widening a little and you stand up straighter fiddling with your cross necklace. “i’d love to.” art let out the breath he was holding in. “you’d have to sneak out.” oh.

you’ve never snuck out of anywhere before and you’re so nervous. your two roommates were fast asleep as you slipped out your bed pulling off your nightgown and replacing it with a modest skirt and white top. you debated on whether you should quickly pull your hair into its signature bun but decided against it. you held your breath all the way down the hallway of your dormitory building till you were out the back door, following the directions art gave you to the parking lot. art was leaning against a car when he saw you running towards him.

“you have a car?” you asked out of breath from running. art shook his head taking in your appreciation. “no, it’s patrick’s. you’re not wearing your bun?” you looked down at feet shrugging. “yeah, is that ok?” art immediately nodded his head. “of course, you look nice.” art opened the door for you and the ride to the drive-in was nice, the windows were down so the cold air blow in your face cooling you off.

art parked the car looking over at you. “did you want some snacks?” you shook your head. the drive-in was playing grease and half way through you felt art place his hand on your thigh. you let your fingers slowly pull your skirt up to your knees so his hand could slip under it easier. art didn’t even need to make it all the way your thigh to feel you weren’t wearing anything under your skirt. “when did you get so easy?” art whispered in your ear, his fingers teaseing you. soft moans fell from your lips and your legs widened. art’s middle and ring finger drag through your folds and up to your clit.

your eyes fell close and as loud moan ripped through you. suddenly remembering where you are your eyes fly open and your legs squeeze shut. art’s fingers dig into your thigh a little trying to get you to open them. “it’s fine, no one can ever see us it too dark.” art whispers against your lips before kissing you softly. the sweet kiss quickly turns messy. yours and art’s lips moving against each other’s breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. your hands move to unbuckle art’s jeans pulling out his cock. art groans into your mouth feeling your soft hands around him. you bring your hand up to your mouth to spit in it before stroking art with a tight grip.

some song from the movie if playing in the background as you and art pant and moan into each other’s mouths. his fingers working figure eights over your clit while your hand moving up and down his dick, thumb pressing into his slit now and then. art’s finger tips keeps dipping into your opening but not fully pushing in. “oh my goodness.” you moan. “you-you can put it in.” art waste no time pushing in pointer finger into your pussy. you’ve never fingered yourself before and your toes were curling from the stretch of of his single finger. “you’re so tight.” art pumped his finger in and out of you slowly trying to remember back to the many videos he’d watched and how they did it.

“is that good?” art asked, watching for your reactions. “really good.” you nodded. “go faster.” at your command art fucked his finger into you faster his thumb moving back and forth on your clit and you matched his pace. loud moans and wet squelching filled the car and when art’s finger pressed into that soft spot you you didn’t even know was there you saw stars. “oh!” your orgasm hit you without warning and you came all over art’s fingers. art pulled his finger out of you sucking it into his mouth. you finished art off with your mouth. his head thrown back and his hand pushing your head down.

you guys managed to catch the rest of the movie before it ended, driving back to the campus where you made out in the parking lot. you broke the kiss. “i had a lot of fun tonight, thank you.” art smiled at you. “me too.” you said your goodnight, leaving to sneak back into your dorm not knowing what waited in your room.

with a dopey grin on your face you opened your room door where three sisters and your roommates sat waiting for you. “and where were you tonight young lady?”

(was gonna let the night end on a cheerful note but who doesn’t like drama. literally no idea what’s gonna happen next tho…..)

[shojizbae]

Fame Monster

Tom Kaulitz x Reader

Your career had really taken off since your first album, Blutsbande, was released. Your European tour took over your summer break. You had performed all over many places you begged your mom to travel to. Of course, as your 'manager,' she got to tag along with you. You got to meet so many fans and explore new corners of the world.

That's not to say you didn't feel a small dull, annoying void in your life.

Tom.

You've thought about him every day since you met.

And in every way. When you meet couples and celebrities with their partners, seeing them in the crowds of your shows stung a lot. People can look deep into each other's eyes, especially when you sing your slow songs about love and desire. It was just in public, when your mother was meeting with your publicist, and you were alone on the tour bus, that you thought deeply about him.

About how he smelled and looked. Especially how he tasted. You regret every moment that you didn't kiss him. Since then, you distracted yourself by finding male fans who wanted to touch you. And there were many. You never went all the way with them. It didn't seem right. But every few weeks, you would find some cute Spaniard and give him a VIP pass to your dressing room. The most tabloids got from it was that you had blown a fan in Wales.

But now, you were home in Germany, tired and hungry. You were supposed to have a meeting with your publicist and the producers about beginning a new album and mapping the world tour for the first album. While they discussed some financial things that a star like you was too important to be bored with, you went looking for caffeine.

The break room is quite spacious and cozy. The walls are adorned with vibrant and expensive abstract art pieces, adding a touch of sophistication to the room. There are comfortable seating areas, and the room is well-lit, with natural light streaming through the windows. Overall, it's a welcoming space to take a break and relax.

Right as you enter, four rowdy boys come down a separate hallway. You sigh and open the stainless steel fridge.

"Ah shit, it's the pop princess!" Bill interrupts

"Deine Frau," Gustav snickers as he rattles Tom. Your eyes lock. It feels like everyone else in the world vanishes, and you're zoomed out, looking at the two of you on the planet, orbiting the sun.

"Hey, welcome back to reality, superstar." Tom smiles as if you two are best friends.

"Ja, it was super cool. Now I'm just super thirsty." One of his eyebrows shoots up as you open the fridge for a beverage. You grab the last bottle of Coke. You twist off the bottle cap and flick it to the trashcan again. The boys also find respective snacks and consume a couch. Discovering that there was no room left, you take the pocket of the sofa where Tom was sitting, resting your legs across his spread lap. You dig in with the arm of the sofa at your back. He regards you and then places one hand on your thigh.

They continue their conversation as if you belong in Tom's lap. Like you were just an accessory missing from his outfit. He traces circles over your thigh as they keep an idle conversation.

"Do you want some Cola?" You offer the bottle up to his lips.

"Ja," he takes a swig and hands it back to you. You smile at him and lick the rim of the bottle. The boys erupt at the pure eroticism of your acts. He takes the bottle from your hand and places it on the coffee table. He takes hoists you up so you're straddling him.

"I'm going to kiss you now," He grips me tightly, and I just smile as he takes the lead. Before you get too heated and dirty, Bill clears his throat.

"Um, maybe find like a janitor's closet if you're going to have sex."

Georg and Gustav snicker, but you return to your little pocket under Tom's arm.

"I heard you're willing to do much in front of crowds." Georg jokes

"Uh, stupid tabloids, I went down on four guys over a three-month tour, and suddenly I'm some promiscuous slut. Didn't someone say you had slept with 25 girls when you were 14?" you slap Tom's chest

"Stupid tabloids," He agrees. Just then, your mother comes dashing out of the meeting room, screaming your name and waving her hands.

"Honey! Oh Mein, Gott! Angel." She comes to a halt right in front of you. "Who are these boys? Never mind, it's not relevant. This is super important, but we'll talk about these boys later. Rammstein wants you to open for them!"

In that regard Netanyahu you launched at out Tom’s lap, to his dismay. All around your European tour when you were stuck in interviews asking you the same questions they always asked who inspired you. Took hotel and Rammstein were always the answer.

Well, now, you had gotten that close to making out with a member of Tokio Hotel, and NOW Rammstein wanted you to come to tour with them. You were jumping around, hugging your mom, and squealing something in Hebrew.

"Wait, when?" you separate and hold your mom by her triceps

"Their tour starts in two months, so you're doing some shows in New Zealand and Australia, and then you'll be back in rehearsals." She switches her tone from 'mom' to 'manager'. You sulk, knowing that it was back to a busy and stressful life. Especially now that it seemed there could be something with Tom.

Before the blue could consume you, shouts of excitement consume the area behind you.

"Woah, so cool!"

"you're opening for Rammstein!"

"You're traveling more!"

The boys have all jumped up, encircled you, and congratulated you with back pats. Tom slings an arm around your shoulders and looks down at you fondly.

"I guess we'll have to save that kiss for when you get back."

"No way." You extend to your tip toes and direct his jaw by his cheek. He kisses you a little chastely, knowing your mom is right there. And when you pull back, it's all over. From then on, you know that Tom Kaulitz is the only one you want to be around. The look in his chocolaty eyes and the slight smile is a tell-tale sign that it's over.

You're all he wants.

"We should go for a celebratory lunch!" Bill cheers

"Ja, I'm hungry."

"Your publicist still needs to work out some details of this little oral scandal. I hope you start associating with better people. But for now, take the card and bring me back a brisket sandwich." Your mom tosses a credit card at you with a stern mom look.

"Sweet! Danke mama!" You hop up and kiss her cheek. On your way out, you get your jacket and purse. The boys follow you out, although none of them bring jackets. Bill is already wearing one.

"And liebe,"

"Ja Mama?"

"Don't eat too much, you'll get fat.'

"Yes, mama."

When you leave the record label, the boys have already hailed a taxi. You climbed in, comfortably sandwiched between Georg and Gustav. You know to keep your face covered in public, so you slide on sunglasses and a hat. Paparazzi isn't as heinous in Germany as in the US, but fangirls are bound to find the famous Kaulitz twins. They take you to a nicer sit-down restaurant, and you order a round of sodas and some bread.

For 16-year-old boys, they make tolerable conversation. You catch up on what it's like to be a young celebrity. Although it is really refreshing to just make dick jokes and laugh loudly. When you order food, Gustav orders your mothers a sandwich for you to go, and you get a chicken salad with pita. The boys joke about being emasculated by a woman paying, but they all agree to take you to lunch again when you return from Australia.

You slip your jacket back on your shoulders, slide out of the booth, and the boys follow you. As you leave the restaurant, you are bombarded by a camera flash, and you feel a hand interlock with yours and let it lead you to another cab. Screams of your name and 'Look here.' You're ducked into a cab, which speeds back towards the record label.

Paparazzi follow the car until you get on the freeway. When the adrenaline wears off, you realize that you've been tugged into someone's warm lap. You can feel his steady breathing as his chest rises and falls, and the gentle exhales fan the back of your neck. Just by scanning the faces of the three other men in the car's back seat, you deduce that you're sitting on Tom's lap. Although you could have put that together based on his belt buckle.

"Tom, you've got to fix your pants. I'm sitting right on your belt buckle." you try to shift around so that it's not poking you in the ass

"That's not my belt buckle, Schatz." He snickers

"Oh really?" You twist around in the crowded cab and sling your arms on his neck. Your tiny black mini-skirt rides up your thighs, showing off your neon patterned underwear."

"Yeah," He groans into your ear. "And let me tell you something, we could go at it right now."

"Now, in front of your brother. Hey, driver, we are rerouting. Take me to the nearest apartment." Howls envelop the cab, and the five of you are spat out on a curbside near a hotel. You swipe your mom's credit card for the cab and then swipe it again for a room.

You can't keep your hands to yourself in the elevator, and when you get to the hotel, it's over. Tom drags you to a bedroom and locks the door behind the two of you.

~.~

Your publicist nearly faints when he sees the tabloids the following day.

"Young star seen with salacious band Tokio Hotel" and photos of you and the four eating lunch together.

"Rising Rock stars seen holding hands" and the pictures of you and Tom

"Could a relationship between these two rockstars be blossoming?"

Rockstars seen making out in cab

"Young rockstars seen going into a hotel. They're only 16!"

Photo evidence of the five of you walking in downtown Berlin covered these drama blogs. Your mother is fuming when you get home. You're walking on sunshine, though. Freshly deflowered and in love. The following two weeks are a roller coaster, and you spend most of it riding Tom. You've already racked up quite a reputation when you reach the islands.

[ilovedthestars]

it feels like my dash has been a lot more full of Bad Things Happening in the World this week than usual....granted some of those are specific bad things happening this week but the overall quantity seems to still be unusually high and my filters aren't catching everything. i am not on tumblr to hear about Bad Things Happening, and it's starting to make it less fun to be here, which i think means it's time to reorganize a bit

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

.

[greppelheks]

I've got serious plans to move to a different province, which genuinely feels like moving to a different country, and I'm all busy looking for apartments and jobs

[ktempestbradford]

I have been on a Willy Wonkified journey today and I need y'all to come with me

It started so innocently. Scrolling Google News I come across this article on Ars Technica:

At first glance I thought what happened was parents saw AI-generated images of an event their kids were at and became concerned, then realized it was fake. The reality? Oh so much better.

On Saturday, event organizers shut down a Glasgow-based "Willy's Chocolate Experience" after customers complained that the unofficial Wonka-inspired event, which took place in a sparsely decorated venue, did not match the lush AI-generated images listed on its official website.... According to Sky News, police were called to the event, and "advice was given."

Thing is, the people who paid to go were obviously not expecting exactly this:

But I can see how they'd be a bit pissed upon arriving to this:

It gets worse.

"Tempest, how could it possibly--"

source of this video that also includes this charming description:

Made up a villain called The Unknown — 'an evil chocolate maker who lives in the walls'

There is already a meme.

Oh yes, the Wish.com Oompa Loompa:

Who has already done an interview!

As bad (and hilarious) as this all is, I got curious about the company that put on this event. Did they somehow overreach? Did the actors they hired back out at the last minute? (Or after they saw the script...) Oddly enough, it doesn't seem so!

Given what I found when poking around I'm legit surprised there was an event at all. Cuz this outfit seems to be 100% a scam.

The website for this specific event is here and it has many AI generated images on it, as stated. I don't think anyone who bought tickets looked very closely at these images, otherwise they might have been concerned about how much Catgacating their children would be exposed to.

Yes, Catgacating. You know, CATgacating!

I personally don't think anyone should serve exarserdray flavored lollipops in public spaces given how many people are allergic to it. And the sweet teats might not have been age appropriate.

Though the Twilight Tunnel looks pretty cool:

I'm not sure that Dim Tight Twdrding is safe. I've also been warned that Vivue Sounds are in that weird frequency range that makes you poop your pants upon hearing them.

Yes, Virginia, these folks used an AI image generator for everything on the website and used Chat GPT for some of the text! From the FAQ:

Q: I cannot go on the available days. Will you have more dates in the future? A: Should there be capacity when you arrive, then you will be able to enter without any problems. In the event that this is not the case, we may ask you to wait a bit.

Fear not, for this question is asked again a few lines down and the answer makes more sense.

Curious about the events company behind this disaster, I took myself over to the homepage of House of Illuminati and I was not disappointed.

I would 100% trust these people to plan my wedding.

This abomination of a website is a badly edited WordPress blog filled with AI art and just enough blog posts to make the casual viewer think that it's a legit business for about 0.0004 seconds.

Their attention to detail is stunning, from how they left up the default first post every WP blog gets to how they didn't bother changing the name on several images, thus revealing where they came from. Like this one:

With the lovely and compact filename "DALL·E-2024-01-30-09.50.54-Imagine-a-scene-where-fantasy-and-reality-merge-seamlessly.-In-the-foreground-a-grand-interactive-gala-is-taking-place-filled-with-elegant-guests-i.png"

"Concept.png" came from the same AI generator that gets text almost, but not quiiiiiite right:

There are a suspicious number of .webp images in the uploads, which makes me think they either stole them from other sites where AI "art" was uploaded or they didn't want to pay for the hi-res versions of some and just grabbed the preview image.

The real fun came when I noticed this filename: Before-and-After-Eventologists-Transformation-Edgbaston-Cricket-Ground-1024x1024-1.jpg and decided to do a Google image search. Friends, you will be shocked to hear that the image in question, found on this post touting how they can transform a boring warehouse into a fun event space, was stolen from this actual event planner.

Even better, this weirdly grainy image?

From a post that claims to be about the preparations for a "Willy Wonka" experience (we'll get to this in a minute), is not only NOT an actual image of anyone preparing anything for Illuminati's event, it is stolen from a YouTube thumbnail that's been chopped to remove the name of the company that actually made this. Here's the video.

If you actually read the blog posts they're all copypasta or some AI generated crap. To the point where this seems like not a real business at all. There's very specific business information at the bottom, but nothing else seems real.

As I said, I'm kinda surprised they put on an event at all. This has, "And then they ran off with all our money!" written all over it. I'm perplexed.

And also wondering when the copyright lawyers are gonna start calling, because...

This post explicitly says they're putting together a "Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory Experience" complete with golden tickets.

Somewhere along the line someone must have wised up, because the actual event was called "Willys Chocolate Experience" (note the lack of apostrophe) and the script they handed to the actors about 10 minutes before they were supposed to "perform" was about a "Willy McDuff" and his chocolate factory.

As I was going through this madness with friends in a chat, one pointed out that it took very little prompting to get the free Chat GPT to spit out an event description and such very similar to all this while avoiding copyrighted phrases. But he couldn't figure out where the McDuff came from since it wasn't the type of thing GPT would usually spit out...

Until he altered the prompt to include it would be happening in Glasgow, Scotland.

You cannot make this stuff up.

But truly, honestly, I do not even understand why they didn't take the money and run. Clearly this was all set up to be a scam. A lazy, AI generated scam.

Everything from the website to the event images to the copy to the "script" to the names of things was either stolen or AI generated (aka stolen). Hell, I'd be looking for some poor Japanese visitor wandering the streets of Glasgow, confused, after being jacked for his mascot costume.

HE LIVES IN THE WALLS, Y'ALL.

[cherrypikkins]

@dimiclaudeblaigan asked for a tutorial on how to begin drawing. Good news! If you can draw a funky looking stick man, you have already started!

I think that stick people are a great starting point for artists because of the things you can learn from them that will be important later on.

If you are able to draw a circle and a couple of lines, you can easily put together a stick person.

Congratulations! You have started to draw. :)

A stick person is a very minimal artistic representation of a real life person. It is simple yet recognizable, and is widely used in art, media, and signage.

But what can a stick person teach us about drawing people that look more like… well, people? Lets have a look!

By simply adding a few more lines, we can add a pair of eyes and a mouth. Maybe even a little triangle nose! Or half circles for ears. We can now draw a face, which provides a basis for all sorts of expressions.

These simple additions can allow us to explore the wide range of human emotion and individuality.

This may seem like the basics of the basics. But that is what we want! In order to get to the point where we are able to draw complex, elaborate representations of humans and objects, we will need to start with simple shapes like lines and circles and build our understanding from there.

For instance, lets give our stick person some cool new features, such as hands and feet. I chose little squiggly circles to represent hands, and triangles to represent feet.

We can go a step further and modify the body of the stick person to include shoulders, hips, elbows and knees. These parts of the human body are quite complex in real life But here, all we need to do is add a few simple lines and dots to our stick person.

The lines provide some additional structural elements to our stick person's body, which are the shoulders and the hips. The dots indicate the points of articulation - elbows and knees, the places where the arms and legs bend!

Now we can use our stick person to show us an even wider range of human movement, action, and expression.

Our little drawing of a human being is evolving! All it took was adding a few more lines and shapes here and there.

By elongating some of the existing lines and making the head an oval instead of a circle, we can give our stick person proportions that resemble that of a real life human.

By this point, we have managed to add more complexity to our stick person simply by using our ability to draw lines, circles, and other basic shapes!

These basic ideas are the building blocks that will enable us to create more complex shapes.

The next part may be a considerable step up if you are absolutely new to drawing, but I have decided to include it in order to show you how complex objects like the human body can be built from shapes that are a bit more complex than circles and lines.

For example. Two ovals and a rectangle can be combined to create a cylinder.

Six squares can be combined to create a cube, or a box. Here, each square is distorted slightly depending on which way the cube is facing.

Note that the back faces of the cube and the bottom of the cylinder are hidden. These shapes allow us to visualize that which should not normally visible.

A sphere from all perspectives can be represented by a circle. But we can make it more like a sphere by adding lighting and shadow if we so desire.

Cubes, cylinders, and spheres are examples of 'solid shapes' because they consist of 3 dimensions.

Lets see how these solid shapes can be used to compose the human body.

By stacking three cylindrical objects, we can create a torso. Two spheres have been added to form shoulders, while a smaller cylinder forms the neck.

An arm is an alternating sequence of spheres and cylinders connected together. Note that the hand has been simplified for this example.

We can apply these solid shapes to the rest of the body to give us a more recognizable representation of the human form. It doesn't even have to be perfect. And just like that, our stick figure now has a silhouette that is unmistakably a person!

In the above examples, notice that we kept the stick person at the beginning while building up the shapes and solids around it. This is because the stick person serves as a guide for positioning the body and its various parts -> also known as posing.

You can do the same thing to everyday objects! Here, I drew a wine glass by stacking these three dimensional solid shapes.

The cup and its contents are two ovoid shapes that were cut in half. The stem is a very thin cylinder shape. The base is a cylinder with a slightly wider bottom.

Solid shapes help inform us how objects and parts of the human body may appear from different perspectives.

For example, a sphere can be used to demonstrate how the human head appears when looking up or down, turned to the side, or tilted at an angle.

With these examples, I hope I have managed to convinced you that if you can draw a circle and a couple of lines, you can draw a person! You just have to train your eye to recognize the simple shapes within complex objects. Try it with everyday objects as well! Or even your favourite media! A drawing subject can be as simple or as complex as you envision it to be.

Once you have mastered that, there are many aspects of drawing you can explore from here that may require you to seek additional resources or a fellow artist's advice.

Last of all, remember that drawing is an iterative process. Even if you draw something correct the first time, you will need to draw it again and again to get it right all times! And by making small changes like the ones we explored in this tutorial, your drawings will gradually transform!

I hope what I've demonstrated here are enough to provide the basics of how to get started with drawing objects and people, and also to help refresh more experienced artists. :) Hopefully I didn't go too off topic with what was requested, and let me know if there are any more questions I can answer.

Cheers :3

[theoldsports]

SHITHEAD.

Art Donaldson x Reader.

warnings: a lot of them. 18+, slapping, begging, major angst, brat!Art, an argument with make up sex. Art is really manipulative because… he is a bit and we all know it. [Y/N] is very ill-tempered too. it’s dirty.

can be a part ii to SPONTANEOUS, or read as a standalone. this is my favorite piece of writing i have published on this account.

The bed was empty beside [Y/N]. She stared at Art’s empty side of the bed. The soft green sheets and mix-matched pillowcases went unoccupied. Not because he wasn’t home, but because [Y/N] hated Art so he had to sleep downstairs on the couch.

It wasn’t that she really hated Art. She did hate him right now. Not in a funny way. Their drive home had been silent. Poor Art didn’t know how to facilitate conversation that wouldn’t worsen the situation. His sorrowful eyes, but honest eyes kept glancing from the road to where [Y/N] sat in the passenger seat. The real showdown had started between them something awful when the door to their house slammed shut.

See, Art cried when he got mad. Or sad. Or profoundly excited. Their wedding photos were two-thirds Art crying and trying not to show that he was crying.

Art hadn’t cried tonight yet. That pissed [Y/N] off. She was furious and he seemed to feel absolutely zero discernible feelings about that.

They argued all the time. It rarely lasted all too long.

It was different this time. When [Y/N] started to say something cruel or shout or weep, Art got a little smaller, but he alarmingly stood his ground. He averted his gaze and said “I respectfully disagree,” or “What the fuck do you know about how I feel?” in a dangerously level tone.

Fighting with Art about this wasn’t fun. He was too cool about. He knew he was right. [Y/N] wanted to yell and scream because Art was so relaxed and condescending in his tone. When the man who had spent his teenage years getting referred at competition after competition as literally Ice tonelessly said: “Jesus Christ, aren’t you bored yet? What, going to over-explain the same information to me again, or…?” Finally, that had made [Y/N] drag herself to bed and yank the door closed violently enough that she felt the metallic vibration run all the way up to her shoulder.

And she was still laying there, staring at Art’s side of the bed.

At the Zweig’s party that night, there were a few hot topics in the Donaldsons’ sphere:

1) Lots of congratulations from people that had known them grow up, but hadn’t seen them since the wedding or prior.

This was mostly very kind. It dragged that smirk up Art’s face and caused his fingers to dig tighter into [Y/N]’s waist. That look of pride and tenderness on his face was more than welcome.

2) Lots of questions about Patrick. His lack of attendance was felt.

Both Donaldsons dodged these question as much as they could. Art kept an eye on [Y/N]’s liquor consumption. He knew how embarrassed she would be if she said something she regretted in front of Patrick’s family. Patrick had hurt them both, but Art’s heart went out to [Y/N]. Her world had been built around Patrick’s from a young age. Art was trying to engineer his own world higher around her so she wouldn’t be able to see the old place and people that had burned her over the walls.

3) “You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

With Art keeping an eye on [Y/N]’s drinking, she hadn’t really been keeping an eye on him. She just assumed he would keep his shit together. Art drinking in public was never really a concern. He wasn’t a big drinker anyway. At this point, his career mattered more and he was approaching his mid-twenties which made him feel surely less young than he had once. He wasn’t a casual beer guy either. It was Patrick who liked beer and Art who would have a moledo or something sometimes. Art did like white girl drinks, though. Tequila and fruity stuff. He had been able to shoot shot after shot of vodka like a pro in college at a season-end celebration.

Art was a tight-lipped man, but he was a giggly drunk who he got pretty comfortable talking out of his ass from behind a glass with an umbrella in it. Art was rarely comfortable with anything, so a drink or two at a party was welcome to him.

Another important point of context is that the largest point of tension between Art and [Y/N] was starting a family. They desperately wanted a child together, but they disagree on when. [Y/N] felt like she was fresh out of college, so she figured they had plenty of time. Art felt that he was fresh out of college, so he figured they may as well get to it.

Their arguments about this were once semi-regular. In the last four months or so, Art timidly bowed out and hoped [Y/N] would tell him when she was ready (sooner rather than later). He got tired of the low-tier shouting matches. Instead, he would pick fights about things that were decidedly lower stakes when he was bored.

Art had let [Y/N] field comments about family planning throughout the night. Unfortunately, when Art was polishing off a second drink, he ran his mouth a little bit.

Knowing he was the designated driver that night, Art did go easy. Art was also, like, five pounds. While he could hold his liquor with grace, he always got giggly. He watched with heavy eyelids as [Y/N] walked away to collect another drink following the dinner portion of the evening. The paper placecards with their shared last name emblazoned on them rested comfortably in Art’s inner jacket pocket to be kept as a memory.

Some guy who sold boat insurance and liked to rub elbows with talent was talking Art’s ear off. Art couldn’t remember his name, but [Y/N] would know it.

This was the precise moment that got Art in trouble.

Because when the guy whose name Art was sure started with an R said: “So! You’re married. When are we going to be seeing a little Donaldson running around?”

Art said:

“Any day now, I hope. Tomorrow. I’m good to go. [Y/N] thinks now’s not a great time for her.”

He had said it with a smirk and a stupid little laugh. It was basically locker room talk. Big deal. He would’ve said it to Patrick with [Y/N] present in the room. This guy wasn’t Patrick and he was technically speaking behind her back.

Art had forgotten how close they were standing to the bar. He had forgotten that the frequency of his pitchy tenor was known to carry. He had forgotten that he was well known to be an instigator of fights even though he never actually threw the first punch. He had forgotten that he hadn’t been whispering. He had forgotten that this guy… Richy? Ronnie? was pretty much a stranger who had no business knowing their business.

Now, Art was sleeping on the couch and his side of the bed was empty.

Jackass.

[Y/N] stared still at the empty bed and didn’t know how to articulate her upset to an Art who had seemingly yet to feel ashamed.

She had a headache and was tired. But sleep wasn’t going to come easy and all she had to look forward to was a hangover.

Art didn’t really snore, but he was a heavy breather when he slept. The lack of his white noise made the A/C blowing and the stairs creaking too loud. Maybe all of this was on [Y/N] for making Art uncomfortable, she dared to think.

Then she reminded herself that it was Art’s fault for talking too much and for drinking when he knew he was supposed to drive home.

[Y/N] rolled over to face away from Art’s spot. All she could think about is how his hands always sleepily pawed at her to pull her back when she got too far away from him before he fell asleep.

“So, what’d you do?” Patrick asked.

“She hates me.” Art replied. It was almost a question.

“I asked what you did, not what she feels. She already told us what she feels and it’s that she hates you.” Patrick stated. When Patrick had stopped through town for a match, he had come by for dinner with, well, his best friends. This had been right after they’d gotten engaged.

Art sniffled. He didn’t want to cry in front of Patrick. Art would sooner cry in front of his own father. Both men would have laughed in his face, but it would have stung more from Patrick. “We got into a fight yesterday. A big one. Like, the first, uh, big one. She’s worried about the f—“

“The future? Please,” Patrick said bitterly. He frowned and his jaw tightened, but he combatted it by tossing Art a smile before the other man noticed the tension. “Stupid. You’re gonna marry her. You’ll play tennis. She’ll do her… columns? Articles. I don’t get what it is that she does—“

“She writes for—“

“Sure, yeah. You’re gonna have two kids so you can each pick a favorite one. And she’s gonna be a pain in your ass forever. Don’t be a pussy.”

Art sniffled again and stared at the floor. “I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. I didn’t think I did,” Art said meekly. “I don’t get it. She gets so mad sometimes. At me.” Patrick stared at him blankly. Art had to know that he was usually at least a little bit the problem.

“Did she do the thing where she calls you a—“

“Shithead bastard?”

“Shithead bastard.” Both boys said at the same time. Art dragged his hands through his hair and looked up at Patrick. Both of them quirked a smirk at the other.

“See,” Patrick started. “You’ll be fine. Fuckin’ go after her.”

“And say what!”

“Uh… ‘I’m sorry?’ You do that kinda shit. She’ll like that.”

It was impossible to know how long [Y/N] laid there. The clock was on Art’s side and she would get spitting mad if she rolled back over.

She could just go downstairs and tell Art to come back to bed. He was probably sleeping just fine.

“Hey, hon, you don’t hate me, right?” Art’s voice whispered in the darkness.

[Y/N] was fairly certain she had imagined it. She had not heard his sweaty feet on the stairs or his fingers against the doorknob. Quickly, [Y/N] whipped over to face the door behind her.

There was Art. His sweatpants sat low on his hips and his shirt was long gone. Clothing didn’t often survive the night on Art’s back.

Really, she couldn’t help but wonder how long it had taken Art to work through coming upstairs so quietly. “Mm?” [Y/N] groaned in question.

Art rocked his right shoulder into the doorway to lean. His arms were crossed and his eyes straight ahead on her from what [Y/N] could tell in the glow of the hallway’s thermostat. “Please just tell me you don’t hate me and I’ll let you go back to sleep. I can’t stop thinking about it.”

With a sigh, [Y/N] sat up and rolled her cracking shoulders back. “I don’t hate you, Art.” Her heart melted a little bit. [Y/N] knew it was immature, but her special attack in arguments since childhood was to bandy around the word hate a lot. Not that she had said it to Art tonight, but she had no doubt said it before. More than once. More times than she could count, maybe.

She was surprised Art had never asked this before. That surprise hurt in an a way that was too complex to describe. “I could never hate you.” [Y/N] continued, voice hushed only because it was dark out.

Art’s posture relaxed slightly. “You promise you don’t?” Said Art’s evermore crippling lack of self-confidence.

“I promise.” [Y/N] replied calmly.

“Okay. Thank you.” Art said in a small voice.

“I love you, baby. I don’t hate you. You shouldn’t have to ask that. I’m sorry I made you feel like you even have to ask that.”

Art frowned sharply. “No, I’m the one that should be sorry. You told me nicely not to talk about—“

“Don’t play that. You have to know you don’t feel like you did anything wrong, so you don’t have to invent a situation where you’re some horrible person.”

Art was silent.

[Y/N] continued. “I’m pissed because you told Randy,” RANDY. His name was RANDY. That’s it. “Our business. My business, really. He’s an asshole. It’s fine. Well, not now, but eventually. But you kinda martyred yourself on it. You don’t have to do that and I don’t hate you. You know I don’t… Right?”

“I’m sorry.” Art said quickly. He was gifted at making every single minor problem his own fault. He knew he was a little bit of an awful person for that, but he would die before admitting it. Art would hide behind his martyring habit as long as his cross could hold him, though. [Y/N] hadn’t noticed before this moment, but she could see the shining of his eyes in the digital blue-green glow. Tears. This time, less than obvious waterworks. Aw.

“I’m sorry. I’m still pissed at you for running your mouth, but I’m sorry too.”

Art nodded, said nothing else and reached for the doorknob.

Here is a frustrating thing about Art.

He said he was going to leave for downstairs once [Y/N] said she didn’t hate him. He started to make good on that vow. If he says something, he’s going to do it, even though he doesn’t have to do it.

“Come on,” [Y/N] called louder than she’d been whispering. “Come here, pretty baby.”

Pretty Baby by Blondie had been their wedding song. She had been calling him that for almost as long as she had known him. Saying it, or hearing the song always made that stunning, small crooked smile stretch up beyond his sad puppy eyes all the way to his ears.

Art’s kryptonite was pretty baby. They both knew it.

He turned to look at her with a slight blush on his cheeks, almost visible in the dark. Art shifted one of his feet childishly over the other in apprehension.. “Don’t make me say it again. I don’t like to ask twice.” [Y/N] reminded him.

After a hasty nod, Art was in bed before he [Y/N] blinked. The blonde sat bolt upright beside [Y/N] with his eyes wide. Hesitant, but coyly so. He knew this pattern. The agony and shame from her brutality would only last so long. Housepets loved to cause trouble for treat.

Not to say that Art liked to start fights so he could play some low-status lapdog that got to feel his wife’s fingers comb through his hair the way he liked as a reward for an apology. The man bit his cheek to avoid a devious smirk. A part of him did like to do that sometimes, though.

He always got away with it. He was such a nice boy.

[Y/N] rolled her eyes and leaned back into the threadbare pillows. With a finger, she beckoned Art nearer. Hesitation eliminated, Art flopped slowly down beside [Y/N]; she on her back, he on his side, facing her. Delicately, Art’s fingers dragged down [Y/N]’s arm to curl in her fingers.

Not long after that, his plush mouth climbed down from her neck. Then shoulders and collarbones. Then bicep. Elbow. Forearm and wrist. Down her hand to her silver-studded ring finger. Each kiss with accompanied with an honest and dutiful I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was sorry. Genuinely. Sorry for the upset he brought his wife, but not the cause. Art’s beautiful duel-colored eyes glanced up at [Y/N]’s blown pupils through her own fingers.

“I didn’t mean to talk about you like that… I just… I love you so much that I want more of you. That’s all, honey,” Art laid his head on [Y/N]’s upper chest and his mouth moved against the front of her throat. “I’m just a little stupid, huh…”

Under his lips, Art could feel the rumble of a laugh rip through [Y/N]’s throat. Her fingers tangled themselves in his hair to hold him in place. “Do-don’t talk about yourself like that,” she mumbled and gave his hair a lovely tug with both hands. He whimpered. [Y/N] wanted to bottle that sound. Art would always remember what she said next and how she said it: “Only I get to talk about you like that… St-stupid.”

This was the version of [Y/N] he was going to remember when he thought of her every day for the rest of his life. That sentence, the way her hair hung from where he had pushed it away from her neck. The sting of the cold metal from her wedding ring on the back of his neck and the stone of her engagement ring pressing into where he reached his palm to place his hand over hers. There was just the wrong amount of clothes between them. Her eyes ringed smoky from the makeup smudges and the exhaustion.

“Say it again.” Art whispered, swinging a knee over [Y/N]’s thighs so he could stare down at her. His forehead pressed softly against [Y/N]’s.

[Y/N]’s mouth fell open slightly with a breathy exhalation. Holy shit. “What, pretty baby, you want me to tell you how stupid you are? You like that?” [Y/N] almost whispered into Art’s still lips. He was too shocked to kiss her back, but too turned on to pull away. Art whimpered louder than before. [Y/N] felt him nod.

So she didn’t hold back. “You think I need to punish you after you behaved like that today or something? You need to atone for what a moron you were, shithead?” [Y/N] kept her tone light enough to just about tease as her nose trailed along the side of his. Her objective was to belittle. Her nails slid down Art’s muscular, sturdy back.

They both knew Art was a masochist on his worst days. Did he get off on being degraded sometimes? Sure. But this series of events was ridiculously new and exciting for [Y/N]. And shockingly obviously for Art too.

His hips pressed into her pathetically. “What? Did you need help with something?” She asked innocently when she felt Art’s hard-on against her thigh. [Y/N] kissed him distractingly warmly for how she was treating him. Art’s head spun and he couldn’t seem to make sense of anything anymore. He had backed himself into the best kind of corner.

Across Art’s hips and side went [Y/N]’s left hand, to the front of his sweatpants. Humiliatingly, Art blinked tears out of his eyes and screwed them shut. His mouth opened and closed, but no intelligent sound came out. [Y/N] planted a kiss at the corner of his parted lips. His strong arms boxed [Y/N] protectively in from above, but she had him locked into place, really. “Baby, if you want something, you know you have to ask for it.”

“Nnh,” Art tried, eyes stuck shut. His attention was mostly spent hold himself up over his wife. His insanely gorgeous wife. [Y/N]’s other hand grabbed his jaw tenderly. He still didn’t look at her. Art was gathering his courage. “Yo-you already told me I couldn’t have what I wanted.”

With a sharp inhale, [Y/N] grip went from gentle to nonexistent. At the lack of contact, Art’s damp eyes crept open one at a time to see if his brattiness had overstepped the situation. His frightened eyes caught [Y/N]’s. She popped the side of his face sharply with an open palm. Art blinked and tipped his head to the side like a dog.

That was big trouble, huh?

“Fuck,” he said. Both of them panted in sync. “I’m sorry.” He meant it.

[Y/N] pulled Art’s face to hers and kissed him hard. “I love… you.” She said.

[lalalychee-x]

"Bad Idea!" Boothill x Reader ft. his hat

CW: NSFW! MDNI! fem!reader; sex where ur on a window sill; squirting + licking it off again lol; slight exhibitionism (the door's open); biting; Boothill's tongue has its own warning; clothes ripping; fingering; robo-dick and cyborg fingers lmao; creampie; blood from biting is mentioned like twice and barely; teasing; braless; begging; edging; sweet and soft Boothill bc he's a cutie; empty warnings; he can't breathe since he doesn't have lungs?? word count: 3415 oopsie

song4this Bad Idea by Ariana Grande

♡ Whenever Boothill's hat goes missing, he knows you're responsible, so it ends up with him hunting around for you. You run away with his hat on to tease him, and he runs after you, playfully nibbling at your cheek. It's all fun and games until the hat is the only thing you have on.. ♡ Basically, you steal his hat to tease him, but end up getting fucked silly until you apologise to him. With the hat on. And only the hat on. "Ya wanted to wear it so badly, darlin', so ya got it."

inspo post from @madamofthestars (psst, check them out! They super cool!) art creds: skoukax on insta

"C'mon now, sugar, ya know that ain't yours…!" Boothill called out behind out, his voice a mixture of frustration and amusement.

You rolled your eyes, quickly glancing back through a spin on your heel; the hat wobbling slightly as you held it in place with one hand.

You look back at him, sticking your tongue out, before giggling and darting off. You sharply turned a corner, your heart racing as you waited for the perfect moment to lead him down a wilder chase.

Boothill scoffs, an amused smirk tugging at his lips, "Oh, gettin' smart now, are we?"

You spin back around, your heart racing as the clicking of his boots gets closer and quicker, "I am smart!" You taunted him a little, the brim of the hat bobbing as you picked up speed.

"Ya little fudgin' minx," Boothill muttered under his breath, his curses amusingly censored as they reached your ears. "I swear, when I get my hands on ya…"

"You can't even swear properly!" You call out again, turning your head as you ran, setting the hat askew.

You catch a glimpse of him running towards you, the sight beyond amusing to see when running at such speed. You attempt to call back, but your voice dissolves into a fit of giggles and gasps for air as you ran.

You snapped your head back, facing forward to drag out the chase. It was all fun and games until you realised you'd diverted your attention for too long and cornered yourself in a dead-end room. Boothill's imposing figure filled the doorway, a smirk playing on his lips as he took in the sight of you. You were panting but your index and thumb firmly gripped the brim of the hat, assuring it stayed on your head.

A room was an overstatement; a storage room, just maybe, with a singular horizontal window panel that stretched about a meter wide at most. It let in a few spells of moonlight.

Boothill leaned against the door frame, his arms crossed over the metal plates of his chest, "Gotcha now," He laughed, the star-shaped insignia on his jacket clicking against the metal of his torso as he did so. "My hat looks mighty fine on ya, but I think it's time ya give it back."

You adjusted the hat, spining it on your low on your brow.

"Come on, just a little longer—?" You teased, batting your eyelashes in a futile attempt to charm him.

"No can do, darlin'," He chuckled again, pushing the door shut behind him. The room dimmed as the light from outside blocked out. "But if ya apologise, I'ma let you have it a bit longer."

"Ok ok, sorry!" You smile sheepishly, reaching a hand to the hat. "There, can I keep it for longer?"

Boothill looked at you with a raised eyebrow, as if you were joking. "That it?"

"Well, else do you want me to say?" You stood there, a bit dumbfounded.

He stared for a second longer before edging himself closer, his face close to yours, bionic fingers tracing up and down your neck. "C'mon, apologise properly."

He tipped the hat up by the brim to expose your eyes better to him. He leaned down, the sharp edges of his teeth latching onto the soft skin of your cheek, pressing hard enough that they'd definitely leave jagged crescent-shaped scars in the morning.

He moved some hair away from your neck, his voice low against your ear as he nibbled across your jaw, "C'mon sweetcheeks, I know ya can work that mouth better than tha't. What happened to all tha't smart talk from before, hm?"

A flushed heat crawled up your neck, dusting your cheeks a rosy pink even in the dim light. It took a moment, before your quickening gasps dissolved into stutters, "A-ah, that was a j-joke…"

"A j-j-joke?" He laughed low against your ear, playfully mocking your stutter, "But you look to be takin' it real serious, sweetheart."

He paused, before licking a long stipe down from your jaw down to your collar bone. "M'still wanting that pretty lil' apology. C'mon."

God, his tongue was going to drive you insane-

You let out a shaky breath, lowering your hand from the hat on your head to place comfortably on his metal shoulder plates. "Hey hey, sorry sorry, I won't steal your hat again, ah—!"

You gasped, almost buckling over as Boothill planted a particularly mean bite through the thin skin of your collarbone.

Glancing down through hazy eyes, you watched as he swiped his tongue over his teeth, licking away the small beads of blood across his jagged dentures. "Ya said that last time too, darlin'."

Your grip tightened on his shoulders, "C'mon, I mean it this… t-time-!"

Your eyes widened, watching Boothill's teeth latch onto the neckline of your dress, yanking it roughly until it ripped. You yelped at the sudden rush of cool air against your bare chest, nipples hardening under the sudden exposure.

"Boothill!" Your arms snapped around the obnoxious tear in your clothes. "The door's practically still open!"

He chuckled, tracing a line with his sharp teeth along your breast.

He raised an eyebrow, "No bra? Yer askin' for it now, sweetheart."

Your face felt really warm again, excuses coming out nothing more than mutters, "I-It… was really warm, today…"

"Aight then, darlin'," he cupped his metal palms under your thighs, hoisting you up until you sat on the window sill, your back pressed against the pane of the window. "Besides, if we get caught, then they jus' gonna havet' give us some privacy…"

You gulped away any nervousness as he shyed away your arms from your chest. He trailed his mouth down your teared bodice, ripping fabric as he went, until he reached the waistline of your dress. He paused for a moment, before ripping a tear down it, right to the hem of the skirt, the sliced fabric falling either side of your thighs.

Goosebumps raced up the exposed skin of your thighs, eyeing when he knelt down, two loud clanks as the metal joints of his knees hit the floor.

He grinned at the sight of the thin fabric of your underwear, running his teeth along his teeth again.

"What pretty panties, hm? Was half expectin' yer to be bare down here too, sweetheart." He lifted your right leg over his shoulder. "Shame 'm gonna rip 'em so soon."

"Hey—! Come on, c-careful!" You shivered slightly as his canines hooked around the stretchy fabric, piercing a hole in them.

"Right darlin'. It's ya punishment for not apologisin'."

"H-huh—?"

There was a staggered ripping sound as your underwear ripped from top corner to bottom corner, the material coming off with the dragging of his teeth.

You yelp, gripping his hair, "You—! Are you going to fucking shred everything I'm wearing—?!"

"Yeah, am plannin' on it, darlin'." He chuckled before trailing his tongue up your slit, already a drooling mess between your legs.

You shiver, your fingers gripping his hair tighter, the door cracked open only making your heart race faster. Oh Aeons, if someone were to see you exposed to him like this, pressed up against the window—

"Shh, relax sweetheart. The thrill's the best part. Jus' breathe for me, ok?" He began to rub up and down your slit, his voice soothing and his thumb lingering at your clit for a moment too long just to force a whine out of you. "But if I were ya, I'd start apologisin' if you wanna cum this time."

"H-haah—?!"

He didn't respond to your breathless protest, but circled two fingers around your entrance, watching amused as slick pooled on his fingertips. "Stubborn? Y'need some encouragement, do ya?"

He licked a long stripe up again letting tongue swirl around your clit before slipping a finger in, his mouth still hot against your folds.

He grinned and looked up at your nervous expression melting into pleasure, his head leaning against the inside of your thigh. "There y'go, sweetheart, ain't that feel good?"

"Hnngh—!" You desperately tried to roll your hips on his finger, only to fail and your body halt into a series stutters.

"Really fudgin' desperate, are we?" He laughed a little, sucking in a breath. "Hol' on, darlin', I'll find it."

He slid his finger in and out tantalisingly slow, his tongue brushing over your clit; you could feel the steel of his teeth occasionally that irked your body with shocks of pleasure. Content with your faltering ego, he slipped another finger in, the stretch making you wince before whining.

"B-boothill, 'm sorry, please-let-me-just, a-ah—!" Your eyes widen, one hand curved over and gripping the window sill and the other firmly on his hair.

"Hm, what's that darlin'?" He stupidly grins, his bottom lip glossed over with spit and your arousal. "Didn't quite hear ya…"

He curled his two fingers upwards, the rubber pads on his fingertips pressing firmly against that sweet spot deep inside you.

"F-fuckkknngh…" Your eyes roll out of focus, hips subcounciously rocking against his bent fingers and your back arched until your head pressed against the window pane — with the hat still on.

He clicked his tongue. "There. 'M found it. Now where are my sorries and Iwontdoitagain's?" He began to pump the two fingers in and out, roughly pressing against that sweet spot every thrust of them. "Still want a proper apology, sweetheart—"

He stays substantially quiet — amiss a few amused hums and chuckles — listening to your flurry of apologies and letting you listen to the sloppy squelches of your cunt.

"God, I'm sorry— I won't—"

"Oh, is that so, darlin'?"

"H-hn, god, I won't do it again—!"

"Sure ya won't, darlin'…" He sucked in a breath, voice shaky between your legs, before picking up the pace with a stupid grin on his face, flashing his shark teeth. You whine, rocking your hips in helpless stutters, your pussy openly accepting the change in pace and clenching around his digits while he curls them deeper and quicker inside of you. "Fuckfuckfuckk— I'm sorry, sorrysorry— pleasejust—"

Boothill grinned at your mush of words. Your mouth hung open, chewing at your bottom lip in a desperate attempt to muffle the drunk blabbles that spilled out of your mouth.

He mutters, his voice low between your trembling thighs, "C'mon sweetheart, y'mouth can beg better than that." He rolls his tongue over your clit again, pumping his fingers in and out, sticky threads leaking from your cunt and sprawling between his fingers and the sides of your thighs.

You clenched your eyes shut, tears pricking at your eyes, "Boothill, c'mon, 'm sorryyy— w-won't do it again— promise—!"He lets out a low hum, gently flicking at your clit with the tip of his tongue— oh god, his damned tongue. A flash of panic spread across your face, feeling him begin to slow down.

"Or what, sweetheart?" He experimentally twisted his hand agonisingly slow as he pumped in and out, pistoning your cunt with his fingers at deeper angles, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

"Please, 'm gonna — hic — c-cum—!" Tears began pricking at your eyes, "God, please, fuck, I've learned my lesson —!" Your pleas come out in choked sobs, "Please don't — hic — slow down—!"

"Attagirl," He grinned, the flat steel of his teeth pressed up against your slit as his tongue flit over that bundle of nerves at the tip that drove you insane, quicker this time, "Jus' a bit more, yeah?"

He slid in for a final time and jerked his hand upwards, settling his fingers into you, firmly hooking repeatedly into that sweet spot. His voice and laugh were teasing, vibrations low and tempting between the plush of your thighs. "C'mon — make a real fudgin' mess on m'face, sweetheart."

"B-boothill, 'm gonna—!"

Your fingers grip the smooth locks of his hair, head pushed against the glass, his name shamelessly spilling out of your mouth. Specks of white flash from behind your eyes, vision going hazy and choked moans straggering from your throat.

You hear him chuckle lightly underneath you, cooing at the clench around his fingers and the gushes of viscid liquid coating his tongue, lips and fingers so well.

He slowly pulled away after rubbing strangely vexing circles a few more times inside you. He glances up at you with a satisfied grin, his mouth and chin glossy with your fluids.

Lowering your thigh from his shoulder, he let it dangle back over the window sill before standing up with a loud scrape of his metal joints against the floor.

He cleaned his fingers clean of the sheeny, pretty slick with his tongue and making sure to roll them around in his mouth before taking them out with a 'pop—!'

"Real mess y'made, sweetcheeks." He grinned, flashing his teeth at you, as he used the back of his hand to wipe away any remnants. "Tastes real good, though."

"H-hnn…" Your voice came out rough and croaky, your head lolling to one side, setting the hat to tumble off your head.

He snapped a hand to the hat, placing it back on your head with a mischievious smile, "No no, keep it on. Ya wanted to wear it so badly, darlin', so y'got it."

You blink for a few moments, regaining your breath, "Oh, fuck you—!"

"With pleasure—"

"What am I going to wear when getting out of here?! At least you're clothed!" You motion to the sliced fabric on either side of your legs, and the ripped bodice of your dress hanging on dear threads.

With your comment, he slipped off and discarded his jacket that didn't even cover much anyway.

"Ya won't need anythin' for a while now, darlin'. Think of it when we get there." Boothill laughed, flicking away the torn rags. "Besides, y'look good with just the hat on. Think I've put your mouth to enough good use too."

You lick your lips, opening your mouth to say something but quickly shutting it again at the swift unbuckling of his belt; it heaves down to his thighs from the weight of the cartridges hung on it.

His fingers travel, hitching onto a cock of metal plates, the edges of them encased in thick black rubber right from the girth until reaching a swollen tip of black rubber.

You sharply breathe, eyeing the scale-like texture, taking note of every rib on it as it lined up against you. You suddenly blush at the realisation of mouth almost salivating, muttering, "You so owe me a new dress after this—"

Boothill let out an amused hum, one hand wiping a line of drool from your lip then trailing down to your tits, cupping the flesh with cold metal fingers. You shiver, the skin on your chest pebbled with goosebumps before gasping at a sudden bite along the sensitive skin.

"—?!"

The quick spike of pain quickly subsided into a tingly sort of pleasure as Boothill's tongue drove around the swelling mark, peppering a few more as he went until he was so bent over into you that his cock pushed up against your pussy, the metal cool against your puffy and swollen clit.

"Ah, fudge, darlin'—" He grits his teeth, feeling the warmness of you just on his tip. He huffs a little, barely fitting it in voice raspy as his face is buried into your neck. "Open up a bit, sweetheart will ya—?"

He backs away for a moment to grab both of your legs, hooking them firmly over his shoulders. You groaned at the stretch, keeping both hands on the window sill in desperation. He grinned at your pussy spread wider over his tip now, clenching around it and sheening the bulb of rubber with slick. "There y'go…"

He groaned, breathing shaky as he slid it slowly. "A-ah, God—"

"A-ah, God—" Your eyes widen, rolling out of focus from feeling every metal rib of his cock push into you, forcing it thick and hard into your cunt until it reached the base. You tense, locking your legs around his neck. "Fuck, I told you to be careful—!"

He let out a shaky laugh, "Sorry 'bout that darlin'—"

He places one hand on the window sill for leverage, the other coming to press the hat down on your head. With a sharp breath in, he begins to move, deep long strokes at first to make sure you felt every bump along the scale-plating of his cock against your walls.

And, god, did it drive you insane; the texture was too much, almost sending your sending your already-sensitive pussy into overstimulation. "Hnn, t-too much —! Boothillholdon, itsgonnahmph—!"

"Jus' relax, darlin', you've taken it before…" He whispers low into your ear, stressing the pace of his movements, losing himself in the warmth of your cunt and grinning at your indecipherable mush of words spilling from your mouth again. Muffled groans escape as he listens to your moans, picking up the pace.

You subconciously roll your hips against the thrusting of his cock, every metal plate rubbing smooth and hard against your walls, the thick rubber of his tip hitting hard against your g-spot.

"Killer hips y'got there, baby—" He cooes breathlessly in your ear, his own voice breaking as he thrust in and out of your sopping cunt. You flush a deep red, your face now hot and bothered when you realise how desperate you were against his cock.

You open your mouth to reply, probably with something smart but your lips are greeted with the stark taste of iron and your own slick on his tongue as his mouth kisses yours shut. You whine through his lips, feeling his tongue deep in your mouth until your whole body shivered and tingled. You tried to keep your eyes open, only to end up crossing them over in a fucked-out haze.

Your legs trembled over his shoulders, locking him tighter in place to bully his cock deeper into your cunt. His eyes widened at the lock, then he grinnned.

"Fudge, y'not lettin' m'get away, are ya—?" He groaned before huffing out a laugh, finally lowering his hand from the hat on your head to place them both on your hips, roughly slamming them onto him to target that sweet spot inside you.

"Hnn — hic — god, m'gonna—" Your words come out slobbery, your lips glossed over and drooling.

"C'mon, pretty, cum f'me…" He dug the metal of his fingers into your hips, his own beginning to stutter and shake as he moved. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your clit in uneven circles to drag the orgasm out of you. "Make a real mess, sweetheart—"

Patches of white and yellow flash behind your eyes, your hips buckling forward. You let out a long choked moan that stuttered with every slackening thrust of his hips that gummed your insides with thick ropey spills of cum.

Gently, he slowed until the stimulation against your slit burned off, leaving you tingly and weak. Weak enough to finally let go of the leg lock you had on his neck.

The grip on your hips slackened as he pulled away, whistling at the mess between you both. He took a moment to watch the white slick drip between your legs. "Feel full as a tick yet, darlin'?"

You tried to respond, but your whole body almost lolled to the side, only stopped quickly by his arm. He gazed down at you, stupidly grinning and laughing at the sight. "What'd I say, darlin'? I did shut up that smart mouth of yours." He clicked his tongue in thought, "Even got m'self the cutest little apologies—"

With any remaining energy you had, you playfully whacked him on the arm and cut him off, to which he faked a wince. He had forgotten the bodily difference in stamina between you two.

"Ouch— fudge, darlin', at least you got some spark left in ya. Fine, 'ma buy you a… no, ten dresses in turn, 'kay?" He pressed a small kiss on your forehead then eyed the dimly lit room, catching sight of the hat that had tumbled off your head at some point and the jacket he had teasingly thrown off. "For now, 'm jacket and that hat are gonna have to do."

"Oh, fuck you—" You scoff, your head in the curl of his elbow.

He smiled, running his hand through your hair. "C'mon, y'wanted to wear that hat so badly. Y'looked real good in it…"

♡ Please do not modify, steal, plagarise or post on other platforms without asking. Thank you!

[saetoshis]

Listen. Yes Hoshina is a short king. But consider. . . If he's short he's probably feeling like he's got smth to prove. Excited to bend his partner over and deill them like they insulted him. Plus then he might hit you with the 'princess' or smth of the like. Putting youbin a verbal place of power (as the taller person) while he's still doming thr fuck out of you. "How'd you let this happen, princess? Letting someone like me see this weak side of you? Were you just careless? Overly trusting? Or perhaps you underestimated me. I suppose I'll have to punish you for that." Type beat.

Anway love our beloved Hoshi thanks as always for your tasty art!

HELPME UR SO RIGHT ... NOW IM THINKING LIKE ... WHAT IF U TEASED HIM FOR BEING A LIL SHORT N THEN .. YK ...

taller!fem reader [5'7"+ 172cm+], oral m. receiving, size kink [sorta?], teasing, pet name [ princess], fingering, squirting, MDNI.

you, who got all-too-cocky because your eyes are just a bit higher in line with his, made a mistake.

vice captain hoshina is nothing if not an enigma. his silly demeanor and playful attitude about everything makes him seem so non-threatening, that you might've gotten too comfortable with teasing him and acting high and mighty. whenever he tells you what to do, maybe you'll make a little gesture with your hand above his head, reminding him who has more "power." these jokes were your mistake.

maybe he'll want to punish you - watch you kneel in front of him, his hand on your pretty head as he guides you towards the bulge in his pants. maybe he'll hum out a little, "since you wanna poke fun at height, how 'bout you try being the short one for once?"

maybe hoshina will lean back and watch you unzip his pants, taking no time to push your mouth onto his eager cock. he might even rut his hips a little, muttering out between breathy 'fuck's, "not so big now, huh? how does it feel, hm? didn't think i'd be big down there, did you?"

hoshina watches so closely as you bob your head and pump your hand, thighs keening together where you're sat all prettily on the floor. a little smirk might even tug at his lips as he realizes just how turned on you're getting from this. "what, getting all hot and bothered by this? didn't think someone shorter than you could get you all worked up? you know better, don't you?"

his words send a jolt straight through your frame and you can't help but shudder, and all of a sudden the vice captain seems so much more intimidating, even more enticing than you ever thought. it's like he can sense you losing yourself in the moment, and he's got you right where he wants you.

hoshina leans down, flashing you a smug sneer as he lifts your face to look up at him - all the while admiring the pretty sheen of your lips and your glassy eyes. "is that what i think it is? is the princess who's always mocking my height suddenly unable to resist me? the irony... how should i deal with you, hm?"

he maneuvers you to bend over against the counter, chest pressed against the cool granite as he lets his thumb drag along your clothed pussy. one hand presses your back, the other languidly slipping off your shorts and panties as he hums, "oh, what's that? a wet spot, hm? not so cocky now, aren't you?"

it takes a lot of strength to even muster thoughts, your head spinning from how lewd he's acting - it's bafflingly hot. you pant against the counter as you look back, watching his eyes flit over your hips while his finger does the same against your clit. hoshina lets out a little laugh when he watches you shudder along with a strained whine.

"feels good, doesn't it? does being put in your place turn you on? yeah?" hoshina sneers and lets out a little chuckle, swiftly slipping his fingers between your walls and curling forwards. he can't help but wear a smirk on his face as he enjoys your willing submission. "let me remind you that i'm the vice captain of the third division. the strongest second to mina. forgot that, did you?"

his sheer strength shows in each intense flick and curl of his fingers against the spot that makes your spine shudder, and it's humbling. it's when he starts simultaneously toying with your clit that you feel like you're on fire, a buzz building up between your thighs just begging for release.

"that's it... yeah, let it out. show me just how much you like it. cum all over my hand, bet you'll never act cocky again," hoshina leers under his breath, ministrations going into overdrive as you shiver and whimper shamelessly. with a voice-cracking whine, his name falls from your lips over and over as flicks of liquid smother his hand from his unrelenting movements.

"ahh, of course you squirt on top of everything..." hoshina leans over the counter to admire the dizzied expression on your face with a little grin of his own. his fingers nudge your chin as he murmurs, "felt good? yeah? you gonna be good now? don't wanna hear you trying to humble me ever again after you left such a mess all over me."

he presses a little kiss on your cheek, smirking against your skin before he shifts to your ear. with a low whisper, he mutters, "unless you wanna have me fuck you in that suit... 92% isn't a joke, you know?"

2024 SAETOSHIS. do not copy/repost.

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

Sukuna "asshole to the world, sweetheart to his girl" Ryomen

🎀minors and ageless blogs will be blocked 🎀

Pairing: Yakuza!Sukuna Ryomen x Reader

Genre: Smut, dark hero.

Word Count: 1450

Warnings: first off, fucking sukuna himself is a warning on his own so let's just start there. Possessive Sukuna, dark sukuna, yakuza sukuna, shitty boss, mean fucking asshole boss, violence, against boss, dacryphillia, p in v sex, rough sex, semi-public sex, read at your own discretion.

Summary: Sukunas heard you cry because of your boss one too many times. He takes matters into his own hands

A/N: This absolutely SPECTACULAR ART is by @innaillus and you can find the original here.

I want to thank her, not only for allowing me to use this as a banner but also for making such amazing art and sharing it with us. ♥️

This is a purely self indulgent fic. If you don't like it, please don't read it. I had a shitty week and needed a place to cool off.

Sukuna Ryomen glared down at your boss. He’d come in to pick you up and heard the creature screaming at you for something he already knew wasn’t your fault. You’d told him about the trouble you were having with your co-workers who slacked off and your shitty fucker of a boss who for some reason didn’t tell them off, but instead unloaded his anger on you. This would be the last time this pathetic vermin made you cry, he vowed.

He pushed open the door to your small office and stalked in. You stood in the corner trying to make yourself as small as possible, silent tears streaming down your face as your boss kept berating you – not even noticing his presence. One of the other workers tried to step in his way but he shoved them aside like they were nothing more than window curtains. He placed himself in between you and the balding middle aged man who dared to call himself your boss. “Hey nimrod, she doesn’t work for you anymore. Don’t fucking yell at her.”

The man cowered. Sukuna was taller than him and his crossed arms made his thick muscles ripple under his skin.

“Ryo…” you whispered

“Wh-who let th-this man in here? Sir, th-this is an office space. You n-need to leave.” your boss sneered at your saviour.

Sukuna merely smirked at you and pulled you into his side placing his lips on the top of your head in a chaste kiss. “Yeah, don't worry, I’ll be going pretty soon. Breathing the same air as you is making me feel nauseated. Can't believe the patience my baby girl had with your shit-ass, fucker” his first met the man's stomach with a sickening squelching crunch, and your now ex-boss, crumpled onto the floor in a heap.

“I'm gon-gonna call the cops on you asshole’ he croaked out.

Sukuna just laughed. “Have at it, ya great ballsack.”

♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️♥️

When Sukuna came to pick you up from work that day he had planned the night down to a T. He’d wanted to take you to a new movie that you'd been itching to see but hadn't had the time. He would follow that with a fancy sushi dinner at the city's best restaurant and then take you to the outskirts where there was a nice little viewpoint he had discovered where he planned on showing you the stars – in more than one way…

But when you didn't come out at your specified time, nor answer the cute message he’d sent you – Where you at, kitty-kat? – Sukuna decided to investigate and came across your asshole of a boss yelling at you. He’d had enough. You’d been coming home and complaining about him and even once returned in tears. It took everything he had to not rip the bastard’s throat out. But he was done with you being abused. You deserved better. Which is exactly what he told you now as you lay with him on the hood of his car.

The plans had been altered slightly, you would be watching the movie with him the next day. He’d skipped the fancy sushi and instead opted for your favourite comfort food – Chinese cuisine. Slurping down saucy noodles, and munching on crispy gyoza always made you feel better he knew and he found himself smiling at your joy. He’d then driven you to his secret viewpoint. You sat there on the hood of his car with him beside you. In the distance, the pretty lights of Tokyo lit up the horizon and reflected off your lover's red eyes. Above you, the stars twinkled in their own magic…

Something about you had him wrapped around your finger. One of the most feared yakuza, putty in your hands. Of course, no one knew the connection. It was all kept hushed for your convenience.

“Kitty-kat?” Sukuna called to you and you looked up at your man. “You know— you know I’m rich enough to support both of us easily right?”

You hummed. “Yes, but I don’t wanna be some dainty housewife, sitting and waiting for my husband to come home and serve him dinner Ryo! I have a whole ass degree that a lot of money was spent on, I’d like to use it babe!”

“Husband?”

“What?”

“You said, husband. Not boyfriend. Or SO. Or partner. You said husband.”

“Yeah… I said husband…”

“You wanna marry me?”

“I mean, yeah, eventually right?”

Sukuna crashed his lips into yours in a heated kiss; all teeth and tongue. He pulled your body close, pressing against you. “I want you so bad right now, future wife. I want you so fucking badly.” He half growled in your ear.

“You have me Ryo. I’m right here.” you replied. You tugged at Sukunas pants and he unbuckled his belt. Sukuna grinded against your thigh while kissing you. His hands tugged at the buttons on your blouse, undoing them as he went. You could feel the bulge growing in his jeans. He kissed down from your lips, to your jaw, to your neck down to the valley of your breasts.

“I wanna fuck you.” He looked at you with a lidded gaze “May I? I won’t be able to stop if we go further than this kitty-kat.”

You lifted your leg to rub against his clothed cock. “I’d leave you right now if you didn’t, Sukuna Ryomen. So fuck me already.” Sukuna flashed you a fanged smile and dipped his head pulling down your bra and freeing your breasts. He bit and licked and sucked, actions that were sure to leave marks on you. Further south his fingers pushed aside your panties and found entrance. He slowly worked his way into you, rubbing gentle circles in your skin. You allowed yourself to let go and dirty moans slipped out from your lips. Your fingers tangled in his pink hair – so soft, so smooth.

Once he had you dripping, he lay back down and ordered, “Sit on my face, and suck my cock while you’re at it.”

You followed, undoing his zipper and pulling his boxers and jeans off his semi-hard cock. You tentatively licked his head as you positioned your pussy right about his face. Sukuna pushed your skirt up and ripped your panties with a practised ease, pulling your hips down to his face. He loved having you like that. Every time he flicked his tongue against your clit your pussy would visibly tighten. You’d drool down the length of his cock hypnotised. Tongue flat against it as you struggled to maintain composure. It wouldn’t take long for him to make you cum all over his face for the first time. Legs quivering and hips shaking he brought you down again, laying you on the hood for him.

He lined up his cock – now rock hard from your mouth – with your entrance and sank into you. Slowly pushing his bulbous head, followed by his girthy length. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Sukuna thrust up into you. Your lips were hot and burning. You felt a wave of emotion come through and tears welled up in your eyes.

“Fuck Ryo— feels s’good!”

Sukuna snarled and increased his pace. His eyes glinted dangerously. “Feels good, huh kitty-kat! Gonna make you mine. No man’s gonna dare fuck with you again.” His movements were rough and jagged but drew out the pleasure in your core. The tightly wound knot in your abdomen built up with each movement, each drawn out pull, each hard thrust. You arched your back desperate to have him more, more, more!

Your second climax hit just as Sukuna grabbed a fistful of your hair. Your cunt spasmed, clasping around him and you cried out his name in a debauched prayer.

Sukuna looked more composed than he felt. His cock throbbed inside you, attuned to the flutters of your pussy. Just because you’d come didn’t mean he would stop. He chased his own release inside of you pulling your hair back, devouring your lips. His cock bullied you to the point of overstimulation. Tears ran down your cheeks again but this time they were those of pleasure.

He came, towering over you, eyes squeezed shut, head buried in the crook of your neck. His giant frame collapsed onto you and he carefully rolled off to the side so he wouldn't crush you.

“So, about that husband thing…”

You turned to look at him, blushing. “Ryo…”

He held up a ring; the ring his father left him. Gold work, carved into a dragon that held a shiny black pearl in its claws.

“I’ll get you a prettier one later, I promise but for now…” he took a deep breath. “Marry me, kitty-kat?”

A/N: please note this was a very hurried creation and edit, if you do find any errors or typos feel free to point them out KINDLY. Thank you for reading.

As always likes and reblogs are much appreciated and comments will earn you kissies!

[mediumgayitalian]

Plink.

“Psst, hey! Nico!”

Plink. Plink.

“Nico! You up?”

Plink.

Plink plink plink. Plink —

“What in the world,” Nico hisses, yanking open his window, “is going — oh.” He blinks. “Will?”

Will grins. “Hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“I was in the neighbourhood,” he says, voice not nearly quiet enough for someone who is at direct risk of being devoured. “Thought I’d drop by. Can I come in?”

If Nico were smart, he would say no, actually, it’s like four in the godsdamn morning, go the hell back to your cabin. What is wrong with you.

Instead, he says, “We live in the same neighbourhood, dweeb-face, this is a camp,” and opens his window all the way. Will grins at him, wide and glinting in the dark, and yanks himself in head-first, somersaulting onto the floor and staying there, sprawled on the polished marble floors.

“Hi,” he says again, grin shifting into something more crooked.

Nico breaks away, hiding a smile with rolled eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“It’s ridiculous to want to see you?”

“Before dawn? Yes!”

“Aw.” He settles against the ground, tucking his hands behind his head and letting half lidded eyes trace over Nico’s form, over the sleepy shape of him. Nico shivers. “I was awake, you know. I dreamt of you.”

Cool the fresh hell down, Nico screams at his brain. Out loud, he says, “Shut the fuck up,” and ignores Will’s snickering. How dare he, honestly. For someone who gets clowned as often as he does he is not nearly humble enough. Apollonian genes, indeed.

“What, you don’t dream of me?”

When Will lies, his throat swells up and he breaks out in hives. Nico is at the top of the leaderboard for getting the reaction out of him, with Cecil at a close second and Kayla no slouch in third place. Will is highly manipulable. It’s a good time for everyone around (even Chiron, who is, to his own irritation, lumbering behind at spot #42).

Nico, however, has no such holdups. Nor is he inclined, at any point in time, to fluff up Will’s ego, no matter how he looks when he’s cocky. Nico has self control. Mostly. (Well, at times.)

“Of course not. My subconscious would never do that to me.”

“You’re mean to me, di Angelo.”

“You like it.”

Nico watches, fascinated, as Will’s loudmouth snaps right shut; as his face burns sacred cow right in the low light of the cabin, as he squirms.

“Oh,” he says, gleefully.

“Can it, di Angelo —”

“Oh ho ho ho —”

“I’m gonna curse your ass with haiku disorder, do you know what that is, ‘cause I’ll show you, dickhead —”

Nico crouches down and pokes Will hard in the cheek, and he doesn’t even flinch — he just goes redder. Nico guffaws.

“Dude! Have some — dignity, oh my —”

“Shut up! Shut up! You’re so horrible, gods, I am leaving —”

“Oh, come here.” Will is dragged easily from the windowsill, because he is a big fat faker. There are actual claw marks on the infirmary door from the last time Austin brought Nyssa to drag him out.

“I don’t wanna stay where I’m unwanted,” he laments, bouncing on the bed when Nico shoves him. He takes the inch Nico gives him and burrows deeply under the blankets, throwing a melodramatic hand over his eyes. Nico rolls his own eyes, hoping if he rolls then hard enough Will can tell regardless of whether or not he’s looking, and crawls in after him. He makes sure to kick him at least thrice. “I can take a hint, you know.”

“Medical arts were the wrong career path for you. It’s not too late, you know. I’m sure you could shadow Nicholas Cage or something —”

“I am going to kill you with hammers —”

Nico evades gus clumsy attacks with ease, snickering as he pins him to the bed, smirking when he gives up fighting with a huff.

“I’m glad you came when you couldn’t sleep,” Nico says, after a moment for them to catch their breath. “But the point of that agreement is for you to then shut the fuck up and sleep. Here. So.”

“I’m trying,” Will grumbles. “But you’re being mean and it’s crushing my soul. How am I supposed to sleep with a crushed soul?”

“Oh my gods.”

“Okay, okay! Put the pillow away, jeez, I’m sorry. Meanie.”

Nico rolls his eyes again, settling down next to him. Will takes longer to settle, because he’s annoying, but right before Nico is ready to smack the shit out of him again, he calms down, burrowing stilling once he’s turned on his side.

“…Thank you.”

“Whatever, goober. Go to sleep.”

The smile is obvious in his voice. “Goodnight, Nico.”

“Goodnight, Will.”

“In the morning can we —”

“Goodnight, William.”

“Okay, okay. Night.” He pauses. “Love you.”

Nico shoved his grinning face into his pillow. “Love you too.”

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) TEASER 💖

coming relatively soon :) teaser WC: 1.1k

“Haechan.” 

“Mhm?”

“Can you walk faster, please? I’m not trying to lose a whole person in the Met.” you complain, stopping in your tracks and turning around to let Haechan catch up to you. The section you’re passing through is packed, the room filled with the din of various animated conversations all overlapping one another.

“Sorry, I’m just taking in all the art in front of me,” he replies, and your expression softens as you remember that this is, in fact, a museum exhibit you’re standing in and not merely a hallway to where you want to go.

“Yeah, the paintings are beautiful,” you agree, and he looks over at you with a confused look.

“Oh—yeah, the paintings are cool, too.” he answers unconvincingly, and you stare at him expressionlessly.

“What were you looking at if not the paintings?” you ask, confused, and he looks you up and down pointedly as if to answer your question. “You’re ridiculous,” you groan, turning to walk away.

“Oh, come on, you can’t blame me! You in that outfit is a goddamn masterpiece.” he defends himself, and you just sigh loudly as you keep walking. 

“Keep up!” you quip, and he catches up to you, leaning down slightly so his lips are by your ear.

“Don’t even get me started on this cute little skirt you’ve got on,” he murmurs suggestively, and an involuntary shudder travels down your spine from the ticklish sensation of his breath on the hair on the back of your neck. “Kinda driving me crazy,” he half-mumbles, half-chuckles.

“It can’t be that hard to drive you crazy,” you point out. “You already live on the corner of Bonkers Boulevard and Delulu Drive.”

“Wow, and you call me a menace?” he snorts in amusement, reaching over to pinch your side in retaliation and laughing when you dance away with a giggle. “Come back, I thought we had to stick together,” he complains.

You roll your eyes but stop just ahead of him, hands placed on your hips as you wait for him to catch up. 

“That’s better,” he finally says when he’s beside you once more. “You know, maybe we should hold hands.” he suggests, smiling wider and nodding vigorously in an attempt to convince you when you look over at him with a “no” already on the tip of your tongue.

“And why would we do that?” you ask, tilting your head to the side in a patronizing act of confusion.

“It’s crowded. What if someone walks between us and you turn to enter an exhibit but I don’t see where you went?” He frowns petulantly, and you scoff dismissively. 

“You can hold my purse,” you offer, holding it out to him.

“How is that gonna help me stay close to you?” he asks with a frown, and you shoot him a look.

“It’ll help me stay close to you,” you clarify. “All my stuff is in there, so I’m not going anywhere that bag’s not going.”

“Hm. I’d rather hold your hand but I guess this will do.” he sighs dramatically, and you snicker.

“Keep wishing.” you reply casually.

“Oh, I will. Got any loose eyelashes I can wish on and blow away?” 

“No.”

“Lucky pennies?”

“I don’t have change. Does the universe take Apple Pay?” you reply in a bored tone, and he snorts loudly in amusement.

“Man, gorgeous and funny,” he sighs contentedly, and it’s your turn to exhale in amusement. “Fine. I’ll wait until 11:11 to make the wish.”

“You know that because you told me what you’re gonna wish for, it’s not gonna come true now, right?” you remind him with a teasing smile, and his eyes widen comically.

“I’ll wish for something different.” he relents, and you can’t help but frown slightly at the crestfallen look on his face. You look around to see if anyone you know is nearby and, seeing no one, let out a defeated yet amused sigh before reaching out and linking your fingers with his. “I knew you liked me,” he remarks with an air of smug satisfaction, and you scowl at him before ripping your fingers from his. 

“...And you’re done.”

“Nope, too late,” he replies with a wide grin as he links his fingers with yours again, either oblivious to the fight you’re putting up or simply unfazed. “We’re locked in now.” he teases, and you raise your brows in a silent challenge. 

“Oh, yeah? Should I call you something cutesy like—oh,” you say, stopping mid-sentence and turning to look at him with a slowly growing mischievous smile. “What was that name Winter called you on the way here?”

“Oh, please don’t.” 

“Was it Snookums?” you think aloud, and he groans, tossing his head back dramatically.

“Please?”

“Cuddlebug?”

“No—”

“Oh!” you exclaim, snapping your fingers and pointing at him. “Pookie Bear.” you say triumphantly, and the grimace on his face is beyond rewarding.

“You don’t have to call me that,” Haechan says hurriedly. “In fact, I’d rather you not—”

“But I love calling you Pookie Bear, Pookie Bear.” you coo affectionately, putting extra emphasis on the embarrassing pet name to leave it dripping with saccharine sweetness.

“You know what’s kind of crazy?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“Besides you? No.”

“Ha, ha.” he drawls. “What’s crazy is that it’s kinda hot the way you say it.” he points out, and you whine loudly in protest. 

“I can’t have anything, man! I get to torment you back for less than two minutes, and your freaky little self likes it?” you gripe under your breath as you pull him towards the large sign indicating the doorway to the beginning of the Greek sculptures exhibit. “We’re here!” you announce happily.

“Anything I should know before we enter this section?” he asks curiously, and you think for a moment before nodding.

“Most, if not all, of these statues have micropenises.” you warn him, and roll your eyes instantly at the immediate amusement on his face. “Keep the dick jokes to a minimum.”

“You got it, princess.” he agrees, nodding cooperatively, and you whirl around to look at him.

“Princess?!”

“You call me Pookie Bear, I call you princess.” he says with a nonchalant shrug, and you narrow your eyes at him in a silent staredown. “It’ll grow on you,” he says confidently as he starts walking into the exhibit.

And as you’re tugged along after him, protesting all the while that “it most certainly will not,” you can’t help but feel like it already has—that is, if the sensation you’re feeling of a lone butterfly fluttering around your stomach has anything to do with it.

[zweiginator]

Reader making out with Tashi after she wins a game at Stanford. And Art and Patrick are jealous!

Oh my god yes...

Patrick and Art are obsessed with you two. You're not on the women's tennis team at Stanford, but you and Tashi had been assigned as random roommates freshman year and had been inseparable since. You came to all of her matches; you were the first person she ran to after a big win, pressing a big kiss against your cheek and spinning you around, high on adrenaline.

Patrick and Art had fantasies about the two of you. Of course, as the two best players on the men's tennis team, you both knew of them. But neither of you had paid much attention to them. They were exceptionally popular and well-liked, and every girl (and mom) within a 100-mile radius of Stanford University knew and admired the two of them. Fire and ice.

They would talk about the two of you late at night as they stared at the ceiling, watching the fan go around and around until they were dizzy and drunk off PBRs.

"I think they are just really close. Girls are like that." Art said, sitting up to rest on his elbows. They had a match the next morning at UC Berkeley; the team was staying at a hotel close to the campus.

"Yeah, maybe." Patrick sighed. "I would do anything for them."

"I don't know who wouldn't."

Patrick sat up quickly. "Do you think she is here?"

"Well," Art responded, his mouth full of cool ranch Doritos. "Given Tashi is on the team, I would say yes."

Patrick threw a pillow at his friend from his side of the room. "No, dipshit. Like, I think Y/N comes with Tashi sometimes on these trips. 'Cause she never misses a match."

"Okay asshole." Art rolled his eyes. "I don't obsess over every move they make like you do."

"Bullshit."

"What is your point?" Art changed the subject, confused at where Patrick's mind was headed. He figured somewhere perverted.

"I mean," Maybe it was the five beers in Patrick's quite empty stomach that was giving him this idea. This confidence. He was usually good at girls, but he couldn't get himself to talk to the two of you--especially not sober. "Maybe we could find their room. And maybe we could hang out with them."

Art lit a cigarette, his second of the night. "We have never spoken more than 5 consecutive words to them. What makes you think that would ever work out?"

"Can you not be a pussy for just tonight?" Patrick got up, pulling his linen button down on. He grabbed Art's cigarette from between his lips and took a hit. "Or be a pussy, and I'll just go by myself."

Art stood up quickly. "I'll go." He stole his cigarette back, ashing it into the trash bin haphazardly placed between their beds. "But how do we know what room they are in?"

They knew the girls' team was staying on the floor above them. And they knocked on every door until you answered, rubbing your eyes.

"What are you guys doing here?" You yawned, whispering to not awake Tashi, who was sleeping soundly on the side of the bed closest to the alarm clock, which read 2:15 AM. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

Art looked embarrassed; he was red in the face. But Patrick leaned into the room, looking down at you in a shirt he recognized as Tashi's and little sleeping shorts that made his breath hitch.

"We wanted to see if you guys wanted to hang out." Patrick raised his eyebrows and looked over to Art, who nodded.

"We can't sleep. We were thinking it would be cool to get to know you guys better, I guess."

"You mean Tashi?" You whispered. "She's sleeping, you know."

"No," Patrick shook his head. "Both of you."

Tashi stirred awake. She was wearing a black tank top and similar sleeping shorts as you were. "What's goin' on?" She slurred.

"Patrick and Art are here."

"Why?" Tashi, sat up; her hair was in a neat braid. "It's late."

"They have beer, and they want to hang out." You were half making fun of them, how they looked so nervous.

"We can't sleep." Art repeated.

"Sure, come in." You didn't know if Tashi meant it. She was delirious when she was tired. But you allowed them inside, curious about their intentions.

Obviously, they were attractive. They were also exceptionally talented. But you and Tashi were content in your own little bubble, eating gummy bears and potato chips in bed and laughing at inside jokes from 3 years before.

You sat on the bed, next to Tashi. The boys sat on the carpet, looking up at the two of you.

"So," You said, hugging a pillow to your chest. Tashi rested her head on your shoulder. "Did you come here hoping to fuck us or?"

"Wha-"

"No," They responded, simultaneously. But their cheeks changing from peach to crimson told you and Tashi otherwise.

"We are just interested in getting to know you both."

Tashi scoffed. "Oh, Y/N, they are interested in getting to know us."

You laughed, throwing your head back.

You and Tashi noticed the dynamic you had created, completely on accident. She and you on the bed, them below you. Their eyes were glassy and lips parted, and you knew if you told them both to jump out the fifth story window, they would do it before they knew what exactly they were doing. You looked at each other and licked your lips.

"So if we offered to fuck you guys, you would say no?" You asked, furrowing your brows together.

"No, no, I wouldn't say that," Patrick scooted forward, hugging his knees. He looked vulnerable and small. "I can't speak for Art, but I-"

"I wouldn't say that either." Art said bluntly.

"Y/N," Tashi said, pushing your hair behind your ears. You were facing each other on the bed now; the boys were blurry in your peripheral vision. "How do you think they would kiss us?"

Patrick and Art swallowed.

You thought. "Hmm," You answered. "I bet it would be desperate."

"I think so too," Tashi leaned in, her lips brushing yours. "Probably pretty sloppy."

She kissed you, tangling her hands into your hair. You cupped your face, pulling her even closer than she already was. Your mouths opened against each other's, exchanging spit and each other's hungry moans. You pulled her braid to expose her neck, and kissed down the column of her throat, climbing on top of her. You and her had never done this before; of course, there existed the inevitable rumors, but they were untrue--until now.

"Holy fuck." Patrick was the first to break the silence; you and Tashi grinding against each other as Tashi's hands kneaded your ass.

Patrick's hand grazed the bed, a move made in an attempt to join.

"Uh uh uh." You tsked. "No touching."

Tashi flipped you around so she was on top now. Her thumb grazed your bottom lip, pulling your mouth open. You whimpered as her spit fell onto your tongue. Tashi pushed your--her--shirt up, palming your tits.

"Can we-" Art began.

"Can you what?" You and Tashi asked simultaneously, pulling away from each other. A string of your mixed saliva connected the two of you for just a second longer.

The boys rolled their heads back and moaned.

"Can we join you?" You could see their boners, prominent in their sweatpants. Beads of sweat dribbled between their collarbones and over their brows.

"God, you guys sound pathetic." Tashi laughed. "What do you think, Y/N?"

You pretended to think. "Well, I guess it's only fair." You began. You saw the boys' ears perk up like they were hungry little puppies, their lips bitten from lust. "That you guys show each other a little love and appreciation."

[ren-is-real]

Inanimate Insanity dash simulator (pre ep 16) (i will do more of this if this goes well probably)

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

does anyone ever get so tired they start seeing spiders lol

💼 su1tcas3 Follow

me when i lay down and hallucinate the horrors lmfao

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

what

💼 su1tcas3 Follow

Oh so this is not a safe place suddenly

2,369 notes

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

as an unbiased outsider im cheering for them both ^^ im so excited for the finale!!!!!!!!!!!

#idk what i'll do when this ends tbh #like damn. #we'll cross that bridge when we get to it!!

19 notes

💡 brightestlight Follow

any couple can be gay if they are bisexual and their genders are weird enough

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

why did you post this directly after talking to me and test tube

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

lightbulb why did y

11 notes

🎤 mic-row-phoen Follow

when you want to ask someone about something but the trek is IMPOSSIBLE and you will DIE (hes downstairs setting up a party im just scared)

🍊 orange-got-juiced Follow

i am not giving you the aux to play green day at the party

🎤 mic-row-phoen Follow

:(

🍊 orange-got-juiced Follow

ok. two songs

19 notes

🎀 rain-bowz Follow

when a fake girl tryna act like me but im the only one there is

⚙️ rowbotted Follow

REAL!!!!!

🎀 rain-bowz Follow

who are you.

📄pageperrr Follow

hey didnt you die. or something

23 notes

🌮absolutleynot-taco Follow

hey anyone know where pickle is haha. anyone know his room number or amything lol like it would justs be fun to know,,, hagaha,,,, yeagh

0 notes

🏆awinners-trophy Follow

imagine using a run down website that hasnt been relevant in YEARS. you all need to get off and go touch some grass or something jfc

🔪sharpest-tool-inthe-shed Follow

you're literally using it?

🏆awinners-trophy Follow

kill yourself

#you used to be cool man

19 notes

🎈coldairballoon Follow

i drew some vent art about old stuff.. im better now!! im just letting off some steam haha

🏆awinners-trophy Follow

this is so cringe

🎈coldairballoon Follow

you're cringe.

🍊 orange-got-juiced Follow

trophy just ran to the bathroom sobbing

27 notes

🌽 official-meeple-ceo Follow

greetings tumbler! i an steve cobs, C.E.O of the meeple company. i am looking to get in contact with a mephone! specifically mephone 4. (model 4s) any help is greatly appreciated!

🖌️ brushedpaint Follow

go back to twitter vro 💀

817 notes

⚾ thegrandslammer Follow

trying a healthier outlook on life!! i'll tell yall how it goes!!

⚾ thegrandslammer Follow

failed

⚾ thegrandslammer Follow

failed

⚾ thegrandslammer Follow

failed

8,270 notes

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

i miss egg :( i wonder where the other one the aliens mentioned went. i hope it found a parent that loves it as much as i loved egg. i mean i wasnt the best parent but uh you get what i mean

🌽 official-meeple-ceo Follow

😜

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

???????

🪁 inanimateinsanityfan Follow

??????????what??????????

#why is steve cobs on tumblr get off

15 notes

🕯 innerflamed Follow

i need a boyfriend except he's not a boyfriend and is just some weird british guy i drag around with me everywhere

1,393 notes

🍀fourleafluck Follow

diversity win!! corrupt capitalist CEO of multimillion dollar company steve cobs is bisexual!

🌽 official-meeple-ceo Follow

who informed you of this.

🍀fourleafluck Follow

I WAS??? JOKING??????

#GUYS??? #STEVE COBS GAY ICON??? #HOLY SHIT #IM SCREAMING ITS HIS OFFICIAL ACCOUNT ITS NOT A GIMMIC #meeple

23,105 notes

💡 brightestlight Follow

as a member of the lgbt we do not accept steve cobs

💡 brightestlight Follow

even when he changes the meeple logo to a rainbow during pride month we dont accept him

21 notes

☯ ringinginthenewyear Follow

☯ ringinginthenewyear Follow

just to clarify yang posted this not me -yin

57 notes

🥒 pickledposting Follow

steve cobs being bi and accidentally admitting to it on tumblr was not on my 2024 bingo card ???????

🌽 official-meeple-ceo Follow

you'll be first.

🥒 pickledposting Follow

what

29 notes

[hansoeii]

Hello! Hope you're having a great day/night! I absolutely adore your art, you are one of my favourite artists. I love the way you shade and do backrounds. Also everytime I get into a new show I immediately see your art for it??

I was wondering if you had any advice on drawing more realistically (backrounds, anatomy etc) but still keeping a style?

Hey hey!

Thank you so much!

I have a pretty good understanding of facial structures, because before I got into drawing more semi-realisticly, I heavily focused on realistic portraits. Here are some example, these are from around 2019!

(yes, I was really into danmei and kpop back then, haha)

I just always loved drawing/painting faces and it was all I did. But at some point I realized that I wanted to do more than that because just portraits felt super restricting. So it took me around 2-3 years to somewhat find my style. Thought it would be fun to show a little timeline! Advice will follow afterwards :)

2020

I began working on my OCs in 2020 and since I didn't have an exact reference to work off of, I struggled a lot. My art from this year is super wonky.

2021

Still wonky, but the Lokius obsession was the jumpstart into finding my style! My work from this year is all over the place haha, I was experimenting a lot.

2022

This first ofmd piece is pretty much the first drawing where you can see where my style is gonna go, which I think is pretty cool! This is the year I made the biggest progress cos I was drawing SO much. These two pieces are only six months apart. The one on the right was the first time I gave drawing a background a proper go, too! It was a good year.

2023

And this is where I am now! I'm still constantly learning and improving, but I'd say I have a style you can recognize now!

Now here comes some actual advice, haha:

What I highly recommend you to do is to study your favorite artists as much as you can! I have like 5 A4 sketchbooks all from 2020 that I filled with sooooo many studies, where basically all I did was look at artists I like and copy how they draw stuff, to try and figure out how to stylize certain things. Some of my favorite artists are Ami Thompson, Velinxi and TB Choi. But I also liked to just scroll through pinterest and study all the art I came across that I liked! For example, if I saw a really great drawing of a pair of pants I would copy it many times in my sketchbook and try to learn how they stylized the folds. Doing this for a prolongued period of time will naturally improve your own work! It'll be difficult at first, but you gotta push through, it's gonna be worth it!

I also highly recommend studying unique faces to try and avoid the same-face syndrome. Find some cool looking people and try to draw them as simple as you can! Maybe even draw a little timeline where you first draw them as cartoon-y as you can, and keep going until you end up with a more detailed, realistic drawing. Maybe in the middle of it you find a step that feels the most fun to you, so you can try to build on that! It's a great way to figure out what kind of style might be the best for you.

Here are some cool faces I found on pinterest!

I have a pinterest board with many more!

One REALLY important part of learning how to draw all kinds of things is to understand forms and shapes and how to manipulate them. I have so many pages in my sketchbook filled with just shapes that I drew from all kinds of angles without any references.

This is a great video on it:

6 Ways to Draw Anything by Proko

Learning how to do this is so crucial! Young artists often think they first have to learn all kinds of detailed anatomy before doing anything else, but all that's gonna do is make you tired and hate drawing. Shapes are where it's at! Once you understand how shapes work and which ones to use for certain parts of bodies or objects, drawing is gonna get so much easier! Once you understand them, you can get into details such as muscles and bones!

And honestly the most important point is to just absolutely love what you're doing! I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't for the fact that I get extreme hyperfixations on certain media that turn me into some kind of beast where I can suddenly draw 10 detailed illustrations a week, haha. Just be passionate about what you do, find something you REALLY love and go crazy!

I really hope this was somewhat helpful! My inbox is always open if there's any more questions :)