#my guy did NOT want to render 3 seconds

[dontfindmeimscared]

KTECH MADE IT TO @tmntaucompetition PRELIMS BABY!!

Anyway here's a backflipping Leo as promised :D

[akiretv]

YOU CAN'T GET THIS FROM AN EGG!!

[phoenixiancrystallist]

Month 6, day 21

More objects made without following a video guide! I did lean more heavily on the cheat sheet/step-by-step instructions than I wanted to, but that's okay :) That's what practice is for!

[alnair-jpg]

In your Olympics au, Will spent a year in Italy where he presumably met Nico. Have you thought about how they crossed paths?

Okay, so first, I'm sorry this took me so long to get to. I've been preparing it for weeks.

Second -

YES. <3

Drew: Thank you both so much for agreeing to chat with me.

Nico: You followed me around for days until I agreed, I could barely piss in peace.

Will: Nico! *Nico shrugs*

Drew: It is true I had to resort to different methods this time as my usual methods are rendered moot.

Will: What?

Nico: She flirts with the athletes, relentlessly. You should have seen how flustered she made Jason. Piper was pissed.

Drew: And yet I still have not gotten to the bottom of their story… Anyways, we’re here to talk about you. You caused quite a stir at the final, Nico. Can you tell us what you were thinking?

Nico: That I had just won gold? And… that there were only two people I wanted to share that with.

Drew: And those two people were?

Nico: My sister… *Nico glances over to Will* and this guy.

Drew: Ah yes, that was quite the gesture, leaping over to the medic area. Will, what were you thinking in that moment?

Will: Just that I was so proud of him. He worked so hard to get here.

Drew: Yes, several years I’m sure. Though is it true Nico that you took a break from the sport after the last Olympics?

Nico: I did, yeah. I needed some space from it. Bianca and I had shared skateboarding for so long it was… difficult. To do it without her. But eventually I missed it and I took some time to find my love for it again. That’s how I met this dork actually.

Drew: Oh yes! I would love to hear more about how you two met! There’s a lot of speculation out there.

Will: It’s kind of cute actually

Nico: I wouldn’t call fumbling over a sprained ankle in broken Italian, cute, sunshine.

Will: Oh yeah? Then why’d I keep running into you days after?

Nico: Okay… it was a little endearing. In a stupid way.

Will, grinning: Anyways, what Nico meant was that we met while I was visiting Venice in my year abroad. I was working as a temp nurse in a few places before I planned to travel around a bit and I happened to be walking by the skate park when he took a nasty fall.

Nico: It was barely anything…

Will: -and without really thinking it through I rushed over to help, because that was what I was there to do, right? Trouble was Venice was my first city and my Italian sucked so I’m pretty sure I asked him if he was in bread instead of in pain. Luckily he took pity on me and switched to English. You must have thought I was so dumb.

Nico: The words meddling American idiot came to mind.

Will: Well when I realized it was barely a sprain I was pretty embarrassed and resolved never to walk past that skate park again. So imagine my surprise when the next day I nearly get run over by a dude on a skateboard.

Nico: You walked into my way…

Will: Sure. Which is why, as an apology, you offered to take me to get gelato which later turned into drinks. And then dinner.

Drew: Real smooth, di Angelo

Nico: Hey, it worked…

Drew: So did you spend most of your time in Venice then?

Will, smirking: No, actually.

Drew: Oh really?

Will: I moved on to Rome a few days after we met and it was another few months before I saw Nico again - sitting outside a gelato place in Florence… nearly 300km from Venice.

Nico: Like I told you, they have the best gelato in Tuscany

Will: And that justifies the three hours of travel?

Nico: Well, I had some other business there too.

Will: Uh huh, sure. Anyways, for some reason I kept running into Nico every few days after that. Eventually, when my temp gig ended and I planned to travel around a bit I told him he should just come with me. Sure enough when I got on the train the next day I found Nico already waiting in the seat next to mine. We travelled around the country together for the next three months. And honestly, traveling with a local made it a thousand times better than what I had planned.

Drew: How sweet! It must have been devastating when it came time to return to the states.

Will: It was… hard. I half expected to see him waiting in the airport when I landed, but he wasn’t.

Nico: I wanted to… but I had to get back to training. Traveling with Will helped me remember why Bianca and I had been so excited about the games in the first place, the new adventures, the new experiences. I realized that just because she couldn’t share them with me, didn’t mean I shouldn’t have them. So I promised Will that if he could get himself to the games, I would see him again, on the podium.

Drew: Truly an Olympic romance for the ages. Does this mean this is the first time you’ve seen each other since Will’s trip?

Nico, nodding: yeah.

Will: With Nico’s training and my work schedule, we couldn’t make another visit work, as much we wanted to.

Nico: It was extra motivation.

Will: I hope he’ll take a bit of a break now, though.

Nico: I think I’m going to have to or both you and Dionysus will have my ass.

Drew: And what do you hope to do with this well earned break?

Will, smiling as he turns to Nico: What was that you said Nico? New adventures and new experiences?

Nico: Yep.

Will: I’m thinking a couple dozen of those.

Nico: As long as I can share them with you.

[miss-tarja]

Like a Fine Wine

Younger! Miguel O'Hara x Sugar Mommy! Reader

WARNINGS: Transactional relationship at the begining, smut, protected p in v, fluff, emotional distress, no strings attached to catching feelings type of thing. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

A/N: This is @tatatida raffle event prize <3. Got her permission to post it. Hope you guys like it as mucha as I did writing it :D. So fun to write again!

If there was one thing you hated more than wires in your bra, poking out and digging into your skin was precisely this. Social gatherings with loud music after a long day, that somehow were a must to keep up the appearances within your collaborators and clients.

And the cherry on top besides this, were two little details that had ruined your overall mood and will to believe in such a thing the soon-to-be wedded couple favored.

To starters, the man whom you thought would be that exact same guy with a goofy and moonstruck smile, kneeling before the woman as he proposed to her, not only broke up with you a week ago, right before this party, but also broke the three month engagement you had agreed and partook in, and the urge to make an engagement party after a couple of years dating. 

He cut all ties with your persona and everything that rendered your existence and what you had to offer. And the second bitter cherry, you were selected to make the brides dream come true by not only designing her wedding dress, but her bridesmaids too. 

Oh, how much fun you've been having by designing your own wedding dress. A design that somehow ended up in the bride's main picks. For once you hated your job and everything that came with it. Happy and excited faces, I do's here and there whenever the brides were grateful and went beyond to invite a top tier Haute Couture and lingerie designer like yourself to the ceremony. 

The excitement you'd never get... 

A defeated sigh escaped your lips for the umpteenth time and absentmindedly snatched your third champagne cup from a nearby waiter. Marriage was overrated anyway and the stress had been nicking enough of your nerves. You needed out. 

The mellow, sickly sweet and romantic music had been a bit too much for your ears, same for the laughs and fun and frankly, you hadn't left because the bride wanted some adjustments in her request, but you didn't have the heart to be a wet blanket over her happiness and pollute her joy with your own heartbreak and mood swings. So you waited, and waited and-

"Should I call you a cab?" The waiter's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Rich, deep and oh so exquisite that sent a jolt directly to your spine the emotional discomfort brewing in. 

Oh boy... 

The man before you, clad in white and black was everything but that. A boy, as you usually saw younger men. The white button chemise made a wondrous job in containing his well worked arms that moved effectively while delivering drinks and his chest, puffing with the constant beating of his heartbeats and breathings. Your eyes couldn't help but wander from his gorgeous and cryptic, stoic face, to the narrow and perfectly sculpted waist. 

My goodness...

"... Ma'am?" He chuckled a tad uncomfortable yet used to the looks his appearances provoked. Your eyes casted away, embarrassed for being not so discreet in your ogling. 

"Uh...  no. Sorry. I'm waiting for the bride to finish some stuff. Could you be so kind to fetch me a rose soda, please?" 

"Of course. Anything else?" 

"Just that for the meantime, thank you." 

His red eyes blinked slowly, absorbing your order as he retired your nearly empty champagne cup from the table. 

"I'll be right back." The handsome man spoke and you just nodded with a brief smile before he scrammed off to the drink station not too far away from your spot.

"Seems you caught her eye." One of his coworkers, Harry, spoke with a smile that hinted at nothing but trouble , pointing discreetly your way. 

"Doubt it. She was getting drunk, looking lonely and a bit miserable, probably not having a good time." He huffed, preparing the golden rimmed and fancy glass with ice. 

"C'mon, Migs. I know it's bad to just jump into women like vultures when they're going through vulnerable stuff, but hey, think of it this way." Harry hugged his neck, pulling him closer, "You'll give her a good time to forget whatever thing has gotten her like that." Miguel rolled his eyes. Of course Harry wouldn't pass the opportunity to jump in whatever chance that got him laid. "And, just look at her!" 

Harry nearly groaned after stealing another glance your way. 

"Harry..." Miguel warned, already knowing where the conversation was leading to. 

"C'mon, man. She was staring at you like she would eat you in the spot! Wished women looked at me like that."

"They would, if you weren't a creep about it. Are you even hearing yourself?" His bushy brow quivered and his eyes rolled. "Just get me a rose soda."

"I'm not a creep, O'Hara. And that shit's disgusting, don't know why, it's so freaking sweet and awful but rich people drink it like no tomorrow. But!" He pushed Miguel with his elbow softly, "That only means she must be stacked up in money too." He mumbled while handing him a golden and pink can along a straw. 

"Of course she is. From what I gathered, she's a famous designer, doing the dresses." He shrugged nonchalantly as he poured the sweet smelling concoction in the glass. 

"Then even better! Go for it! Bet you 20$ she's single. And 50$ of my tips you're ending up in her bed tonight." 

"Hilarious you think you'd get tips from these people." He plated up, and returned to you. Or at least, tried since you were nowhere to be seen. He swore you were there some moments ago. 

Until he spotted you talking with the bride, taking notes and sketching so fast in a pad he was genuinely amused for a second at how easy the skills came in your hand. You also took some measurements off the bride and the bridesmaids. It didn't take no longer than fifteen minutes in total to gather what you needed or he supposed. 

He returned again, to finally find you alone in another table, he carried a freshly served drink as the previous one had lost the gas and flavor. You were skimming through your sketch pad, biting your lip as you redrawn over and over the veil's fall.

"Ma'am?" He called and your eyes met his. Lighting up with delight at what he had on the tray.

"Oh, right!. Thank you very much... Uh..." Your brow quirked and Miguel cleared his throat. 

"Miguel. Miguel O'Hara." His lips curved a chip awkwardly as he placed the soda on a cover away from your working tools. 

"Right." Naturally you gave him your name and took a long sip of soda. The sugar in it earned an approving hum from you, Miguel's eyes wandered discreetly over your shiny lips as you licked them. "Hope you don't mind me asking, but how old are you, Miguel?" 

The sudden question threw him off, specially when you had asked so out of the blue with such confidence he only allowed his closed ones. The hunt was on and he was the perfect subject to bring home and hang on your wall. Or rather bed. 

"Pardon?" He blinked, genuinely confused as to why would you ask that as he held his tray in an attempt to hide the fidgeting of his hands. He was the one supposedly doing the flirting, not backwards. That is, if you were actually flirting. It had been a long while since he gave into something casual. One night stands weren't something he indulged often, except when his body screamed for release in something else that wasn't his pumping and squeezing hand. 

Bills and temporary jobs kept him busy like that. 

"I asked your age." Your head turned to face him again, and for once, he frowned. Earning you a small giggle. "Relax, sweetheart. Twenty somethings aren't that much of a favorite of mines."

"Then, guess I'm out of your league." 

You chuckled and sipped your soda, not daring to tear your gaze from him. 

"Older than twenty five?" 

He shrugged, quietly admitting a bit of himself, exposed but genuinely amused at your sudden move.

"Ah, I see. We could do an exception." You gestured for him to seat. And he shook his head. 

"Can't do, I'm still on my shift, I'm afraid." 

"All responsibility is on me if something happens. Please. Sit." You gestured and he sat across you, hesitant as you drank another sip, to sweeten your mouth and lace up the words coming off it. "You see, it's not every day I feel particularly... inclined to indulge myself with the people around me. So I'll go straight to the point."

"Id like that, yeah." His words made you smirk. 

"This is probably your second or third job. Yeah?" 

His brows puckered ever softly at the probing guess, but he kept on listening. 

"Sorry if I come out as invasive. Perks of being in this... side of business turns one into a good people reader." You shrugged and he pouted ever softly. 

"Is that so? What can you tell then? Cause, pretty sure you don't know a thing about me, Ma'am." 

"Oh. Feisty, aren't we? I like that. But flirt or whatever this is, aside. I can tell this is your second or third temporary job, your finances aren't that bad, you do manage, but some extra cash wouldn't be bad for you, am I right? What's on the table? A PhD?" 

"Your point is?" He pressed and you smirked 

"Well, since I was lonely, kinda miserable looking and I wasn't having a good time actually, I thought in getting some company." Your words froze him in the spot. And you chuckled again as he cleared his throat. "Your station wasn't that far from my ears, sweetie."

"Sorry about that-."

"Forget about it. I heard enough to know a little play time in bed with me would cost so low. Kinda hurt by that." 

He gulped. His cheeks couldn't help but warm at the implications of your sudden offering. 

"But... wanna think a bit bigger?"

His eyes dropped midway his eyes, like the octave in his voice as he leaned in closer, a mischievous smile tugging at the corner of his meaty lips.

"I ain't low cost, Hermosa. That's for sure." 

"Do I look cheap to you?." Your voice mellowed with a promise of something else within. "I'm everything but. Not when it comes to treating myself anyway." 

And God he would be the biggest liar if he didn't admit that was the hottest thing a woman had told him in such a long time. That surge of power coursing through him felt a bit too good. He could decline so you could raise you tab higher, given that you were the one in need of him. But since he hadn't named a price, the offering was just as tempting as the slit on your red dress that hugged your curves deliciously, or the dip in your cleavage. 

"What do you want exactly from me?" 

And he enjoyed the chase. The power you indirectly granted him by simply admitting that not only money was in play, but a much needed release. He knew  what you needed, just wanted to hear it for himself to convince his mind that one of his secret fantasies was turning so tangible and real, it sent shivers straight to his groin. 

"Repeating the same and the obvious is useless, You're a smart man. You ain't stupid, Miguel. So name your price."

"Well, it depends on how many times you'd like to repeat doing me, Ma'am." 

And it was your time to laugh, a pleasant burn ran through your body, as the thrill of push and pull increased.

"I'm just some years older than you, Miguel, save the ma'am for your grandma." 

"The more reason to keep myself out of trouble, Señorita." he crooned and your lips stretched wider, leaning closer. 

"You're playing too much and time is money for me. So what do you say? Wanna leave this serving charade and do something productive with your time and with me?" 

"So basically you'll pay me to keep you busy and satisfied." 

"Company sometimes as well, but we'll see about the satisfied part." Your lips curled with mischief, "No strings attached of course. Work is a good outlet, but I wanna vary them." Your lips twitched with a feline glint, "It makes wonders for my creative process, which means more money for me. And for you, of course. It's a win win for us both." 

"No strings attached." He repeated, pondering for a moment. 

"Indeed." Your hand gestured elegantly while raking him unabashedly. "So?" 

"I'd like four thousand. For every meetup." he pressed, keeping his eyes on you. Had it been too much? 

"Student loans?" Your brow quirked and he nodded. "How much you owe?" 

"Twenty four grand to go, and I'll be free." 

"Hm. I see." You mumbled, twirling the pencil in your hand. "And, are you sure that's enough for you?" 

Dios mio... 

His breath stuck in his throat and his eyes darkened for a moment. You were for the kill and he was left defenseless. But in truth, he'd gladly die. And older woman wanted him, a gorgeous and rich older woman, nonetheless, was there offering him the financial freedom he so desperate sought out through shitty jobs and whatever gig that increased his bank account numbers.

You were willing to pay for his company, and he'd be out of debt soon with no strings attached. What else could he ask for? 

"Is it for you?" He pushed, amusing you to no end. 

"Don't worry your pretty head about it, sweetheart."

Well, shit. 

"Anything else, then, Ma'am?" 

You hummed, satisfied at his reply. 

"For you to stop call me that and bring some good booze. We're going home. Make sure to quit. I don't like interruptions on my... meals." 

A shudder ran down his spine and he nodded cockily. Night was still young and strong after all, like him and his sudden appetite. 

Although he owed Harry seventy bucks, the number was certainly insignificant compared to what he'd get after this scrumptious workout. 

Initially, the sight of your ample penthouse had snatched his breath away. Lush and elegant, like your overall aura. That until you changed into a more comfortable set of clothes. And by it, it meant a delicate and short turquoise slip with a matching robe. Drinks and business talk came in next, leading to the  culminating peak of your mutual transaction. 

His hands grope and pulled your hips downwards as he thrusted upwards, trying to match the heart-shaking pace of your hips swallowing him with a need he rarely got to see and experience in a woman. 

"Fu.. Fuck!" He groaned when your hips rolled, switching once again the tempo, pushing all the air out of his burning lungs. "Hermosa-" He croaked and shuddered when your walls clamped and pulsated around him without a truce and rest. What were you doing to him? 

He knew some women were good like that, but this... This was beyond his comprehension and skills. It was like if your insides held him a willing hostage inside, snug and tight, milking and pulsating around him at will. Like if they obeyed your command of squeezing the life out of him in rhythmic contractions. 

"C'mon, darling. You gotta-" You hissed, sinking on top of him in a go, his cock kissed with a wet push the very end of your hilt, earning a shaky whimper from his throat, "You gotta work hard for it, yeah?" 

His hands dug in the meaty slabs of your ass, spreading and smacking your hips through gritted teeth. Your eyes gleamed in wicked delight  upon the sight of him, struggling to catch up, fighting off the haze in his brain that clouded his judgement, leaving him completely bare and at your drenching and fluttering mercy. 

There were few things that older people taught Miguel through life. Not underestimating your drive was one. He had believed he could handle you with a quick but deep fuck and that would be the end of it until further notice. How sadly mistaken he was. 

But oh, the wonders and mysteries of the female anatomy never ceased to amaze him as they churned his guts, demanding for his performance to increase, to double his efforts if possible. And he tried, God knows he tried but your pistoning and riding hips had his brain a swirling puddle. Smooshing his thoughts in a jumbled and incoherent mess. 

Your wetness didn't lie, your nails burying on his back didn't lie as they created red welts wherever they explored and clawed, your mouth devoured his, set into stealing every single breath as you rutted your hips, grinding in such a way it made him dumb. Pussy drunk even, despite the condom fitting beyond perfection to put the blaming arrow on it. For once he wasn't the one doing the magic happening, rather enjoying it. 

"Just like that, Miguel" You hissed on his mouth before he returned the favor in leaving you breathless with his demanding kisses and needy hands. 

He didn't know what was more arousing and mind shattering. If you, riding him like he was being introduced to pleasure for the first time all over again with every  diabolical thrust you put him through, pulling noises he often didn't do with his scarce partners in bed. 

Or knowing this kind of experience  laid ahead in his future restless night's with you, set into making an example of why he should never underestimate older women and their burning and insatiable libido when it hit in its whole might. He was burning. Enjoying the gorgeous, older and in heat woman on top of him. 

Too much expertise for him? Perhaps, but he was grateful to be learning how to survive your appetite. He was a sucker for learning after all. 

His hands squeezed and slapped your rear, equally struggling to handle the bouncing globes as they escaped his trembling fingers with each rut, unable to hold still a handful, urging your moves to go faster, rougher and deeper if possible, determined to pull each ounce of  your knowledge out to test and under scrutiny, like the good yet underpaid scientist he was. 

And his jaw dropped with an agonising moan when you leaned back, supporting your hands on the flat of his thighs, giving him a prime sight of your body. 

Your legs spread wider so your cunt would choke more of him inside, swivelling those gorgeous hips of yours in a circular motion, causing his eyes to glue on the mess between heated and sweaty limbs. Your feet barely touched the floor as they remained curled up. 

His cock stretched your pussy, and every time he pushed in, a little spurt of your juices flowed, coating and making him glisten with a pretty shimmer, and for a brief second he really wished to be able to have it raw. Your breast bounced at a mind-boggling pace. The hard and unceasing wet slap of flesh had turned into one of his favorite melodies, specially the slurping noise your cunt gave him when grinding your hips downwards to suck more of him in. 

For once he didn't mind being the end to someone else's pleasure. Why would he when you gave him one of the most erotic sights he ever had the privilege to witness in a woman? The experience had gone beyond the didactical, as it actually stimulated the right spots in his brain, firing up his need to experience more. 

"I'm cumming!" You shrieked 

How would you look while at it? Exquisite probably. Specially when his hand snaked down your hips and his mischievous thumb pressed against your engorged, sweet tasting and throbbing clit, flickering it up and down with calculated speed and force to not overwhelm and end your prowess demonstration too soon. 

"C'mon hermosa, cum for me." He mumbled in between languid pants, almost tasting your mouth again, and when your peak crashed with his name rolling out of your tongue in a needy shriek, he did nothing but to whimper and follow into the depths of nirvana itself, willing to drown in this head-splitting pleasure. With a final thrust and a wheeze, he sheathed, spilling into the condom, whimpering as his forehead hid in the crook of your neck. His hot breath colliding against your tender skin. 

The agonising and shaky moans slowly evolved into exhausted pants and lazy laughs. 

"My goodness" You kissed him once, he returned it, then twice and a half surprised and satisfied smile stretched on his lips. He had survived you. "You alive, Miguel?"

Barely 

His breath stuck in his throat as you rose, the sting of your walls abandoning him suddenly with a wet pop had him slumping against the bed frame, then chuckled as you stood to stretch like you hadn't sweated an ounce, some joints popping back in place. 

"I'm good, hermosa." His hand slicked the sweaty strands as his eyes wandered over your glistening and flushed body. Walking like you hadn't fucked him to heaven and back, towards the abandoned couch where your forlorn clothes laid, to pick up the robe and covering yourself with it. His mouth pursed gently, disappointed to not see more of his marks on you. 

"Want a drink before round three?" 

Dios mio... 

"If you're trying to kill me to not pay me, just say it." 

That earned him a giggle while you poured him a tall glass of water and approached. 

"Well, if I can recall you even asked if it was enough for me." He took the glass without letting his sight to drift from yours. "And by the looks of it, I think it's better for us to stop here as you've had enough. Don't want to break you too soon." 

"I take your word. It's not that I'm not capable you know? I just-" 

"Thank the kegels, dear. They do wonders." He choked as you laughed at his reaction. "Relax. You did amazing. Hadn't cum like that in months. But enough on it." You stood again and fetched your checkbook from the purse. 

"You want a check or transfer?" 

"Uh... transfer. Roomie's nosy." His shoulders rolled back as he leaned in closer. 

"Roomie?" your eyes blinked but quickly shook the upcoming comment away, "Alright. Transfer shall be. You can stay, there's food on the kitchen in case you're hungry, shower is on the left bottom door-" 

"Wait... You want me to stay?" 

"For you to rest, yes. I've had my fill for the night. And those dresses won't design themselves, so stay if you want. If not, let me call my chauffer so he can drop you off. I don't trust local cabs around here this time at night and they probably scam you." 

Well, shit. Wasn't he being pampered? 

He just remained there, pondering and weighing his options until his mouth ran with an unexpected question that surprised even himself. 

"Are you hungry?" 

It didn't matter how things turned, the feeling of having you writhing underneath him so far had no match. Maybe, just maybe, he could compare it to the same rush of dopamine when he paid the last cent he owed to those greedy college higher ups that always sucked the four thousand he righteously earned by being buried deep in you. 

The whole transaction sure had gained a bit more trust between you two, to the point of him having his own copy to your penthouse. Rushed, maybe, but it was more a practical thing than anything he shooed away in his mind before he started reading wrong in between lines. 

You trusted him enough to allow him stay at your own home, eat your food, order even in case he grew tired of the caviar and other exotic things he had devoured at least once, to have a little taste of the life you were getting him used to. 

He wouldn't admit it but there were some habits of yours that grew on him, like not worrying about the good food. You appetite was as good as in bed as outside of it. Something he started to notice and take a like to. He'd watch you devour your meals without a care in the world, wear the lingerie and clothes you wanted. Bought the things you wished at whim, fucked him whenever you felt like it, and God you did fucked him. You were... you. Unapologetically you.

And much to his dismay, he didn't mind sex coming into a second place in both of your agendas. But, ever since that last time, things had been quite... odd, for not saying weird between you two. But it was weird in a good way, or he supposed. 

He had spent the night, doing nothing but talking and indulging in each other's company until alcohol-induced sleepiness claimed you both, only to find you in the kitchen, cooking for both. A hearty meal to give you a good shot of energy for what came next. And to his surprise and disappointment the cue for him to remove your clothes and fuck each other silly, never came. 

Now here he was, attending your impromptu message personally. 

"I'll be in a business trip soon for a couple of weeks if not months. This place will be empty. You're welcome to stay if your roomie still hasn't learned to mind his business." Your voice echoed across the studio, as you draped silk and tafetta over a mannequin. 

"You're leaving?" A tad incredulous he asked from the door frame. Taking in properly your working mode. Truly not expecting you to call him to let him know you'd be off shore. 

Your back faced him, the robe hung loosely on your shoulder as your nimble fingers created a design directly on the fabric. It truly marveled him the kind of things you could manage on your own. Yet it was enough to ponder a nagging question that had been harassing his mind for quite a while now, after he accidentally found a picture of you, kissing a man's cheek with a moonstruck look in your face. And a ring on your finger. 

What had happened? 

He wasn't one to get into people's business, in fact, he prided in keeping himself away from where he wasn't needed nor invited. Yet the picture had stirred the ever and nearly childish curiosity in him. Would you take it wrong if he asked? How would you react if he asked something about the mysterious man, with a smile that didn't reach his eyes next to you? 

"Gotta do a runway in London, then in Paris and Australia. The lots of meetings every day with my manager and team in Greece. And New York again."

If it wasn't for the blasé tone in your voice, he'd thought you were excited to see the world. But he had seen glimpses of the cruel and merciless world a designer threaded on. Stolen ideas, designs, collections, and backstabbing from the least suspecting; nights with little to no sleep, unhealthy eating patterns, stress, anxiety with logistics, contacts, and people asking for favors, sabotaging ... 

And so much more he couldn't remember properly at the moment, but it gave him a better understanding as to why you had sought him, and devoured him until you had your fill. Cause it was never about his pleasure in the first place. And he didn't mind. 

If he was honest, it was what happened after the hookups that ignited that need to experience it all over again. Your sated, sweet laughter in his arms paved the way for a new addition to the already blurry casual dynamic. The intimate talks late at night, while his fingers caressed your scalp, admiring those fine silver threads, peppering your hair here and there, had become his favorite part of the ritual.

Unavoidable as it was, the no strings attached mantra had been slowly vanishing from his brain. Specially when his compliments flared your cheeks and made you giggle like a crushing teenager again. Or when his touches became more gentle and aimed towards soothing you after a long day of stressful events. Your kisses turning more intimate, lingering with each passing week. 

He once found himself kissing the back of your shoulder, in return of yet another mind-splitting orgasm. 

"If you're bringing company to impress, please make sure to clean properly." 

What? 

"Excuse me?" His voice crisped with anger, and you turned to see him, surprised he'd take that personally instead of the usual humorous and borderline jerk-ish and dry way. 

"Sorry..." You returned the attention towards the mannequin again. “Forgive me. That was stupid.”

Very. 

How did you even dare to think he'd do that? Hadn't he been available for you whenever you wanted? Wasn't his loyalty proven enough? 

The sudden epiphany left him even more agitated. The mere thought of being with someone else while being with you, even if transactional, angered him. Offended him even. 

"Just... You know what to do." He mumbled and left the room. A clear 'call me when you need me'. 

"Miguel-" You called but he had been long gone. 

You knew he was a pithy man when it came to words. But his sudden leaving felt odd, even worst when the door from the main door slammed shut. Leaving you with the loneliness as your only companion once again. 

His feet stopped dead in his tracks upon watching the penthouse, your room specifically, empty. Devoid of your presence and some of your clothes and luggage. in the drawers. 

Fuck

He knew you were on a business trip, but, didn't expect you to be gone so soon. Not when he had returned to apologize from yesterday's slip with his temper. And now, he had to wait for God knows how long before he could see you again.

Miguel could text you an apology, or email you one, but it wasn't the way his mother raised him, messed up as it was. Conchata always made sure to make him apologize face to face, so the lesson was learned. Besides, although his thumbs itched to send you a text message, what would he talk about? 

Probably his text would get lost in the many thousands you had yet to attend. So adding himself like another stress factor didn't feel right. Not when you had runways to do and stuff. He'd have to wait although the idea sat wrong in his chest. 

He could leave whatever thing going on between you two, if he wished. He could turn back close the door and forget that he had shared a good couple of months with you. His debt had been paid already, but he never had the courage to tell you. Not because he wanted more money, no. He simply wasn't ready to say goodbye so soon. 

Not when he had gotten used to your presence, your laugh, your sweetness when it came to him. If anything he had been saving up for leaving the city, and couldn't do it if he had no money. But now that his heart found a little detour from the no strings attached rule, he didn't want to go back. 

With a last glance, he took his phone and pressed the chat log of your number. The pretty logo of your company displayed with pride, leaving the text box open. Urging him to write something, to drop the pride and reach out first. But cowardice held him in a choking grip. 

He left. Unable to go past his pride and send you a text message to ask you when would you return. If you needed him, you'd let him know, right? You wouldn't leave him hanging. 

Right? 

You could have any man you wanted, you had him after all. Yet it was enough for his mind to punish itself with all source of intrusive, pessimistic and anxious thoughts. Your plane crashing, you being gone for good, you forgetting about him by finding a new toy. You being with someone else. 

The latter made him frown with an unpleasant sensation coursing through him. Unable to pinpoint between jealousy or fear. 

Maybe you hadn't contacted him in weeks cause you were busy as usual, or the signal sucked.

You were too childish for her. 

His brain trembled and his hand rubbed against his face, letting the headache to brew in. 

She doesn't like it when you behave like a spoiled brat. 

Another thought jabbed his mind and he sighed. What had you done out of him? He often didn't care in the slightest about what people thought of him, but the idea of you not contacting him because he had acted like precisely was too embarrassing to ignore, and that little act up he gave you before you left, only reinforced such thought. 

You needed a man, not a man child. 

The waiting slowly ate his brain alive, until a couple of news stories through social media gave him important and invaluable information he refused to get directly out of embarrassment. After a month and some more without your presence in his life, you were to return within a couple of days to New York. Or so the fashion fan's forum online said. 

He'd get to see you soon. 

The thought alone sent an equally happy and anxious shiver down his spine as his mind raced with all the things he needed to do. 

Would you want to see him again? 

Hopefully... 

Exhausted was a measly word to describe your current mood. The flight had not only delayed twice, but some of your luggage was missing. Important luggage with materials you needed for the bride's dress. 

The fashion tour had drained you so bad to the point of barely leaving time for yourself. If you had the time for drinking a cup of coffee was to say it was too much free time. But now that your agenda finally allowed you to breath and conceded a bit of time, you were ready to go home, take a long bath and sleep the rest of the day. 

Your feet ached, your head pounded and Miguel-

You stopped in your tracks and blinked, just to make sure the sight before you wasn't a product of your quanked mind. 

Holding a bouquet of spring flowers, dressed to impress with a look that could only be translated as  'I'm here for you.' was Miguel. Tentatively, he took a step closer, then another and another until he was before you, towering over your frame with a coy yet genuine soft smile.

"Hey..." 

You hummed, too stunned to see him here, taking the time to see you. 

For a brief of second you couldn't help but wonder if he had ran out of money, hence his presence here. Right? Cause your brain sort of refused to believe, rather didn't want to believe someone like him was genuinely interested in you, not when money had played a huge part in your relationship.

"Hey." Still, it felt good to think at least he cared enough to take his pretense a bit further and actually make you feel special. 

"I'm sorry." He blurted, stopping all thoughts in a go in your overriding brain, "I... wanted to apologize for what happened a month ago. Shouldn't have gotten so upset over it." He offered the flowers, hoping you accepted them. And when you did his heart almost leaped in his throat upon seeing your eyes turning glossy. 

Fuck. 

"I'm sorry for... you know. Fuck... I'm not good at this... but damn. I've... I've missed you, Hermosa." 

"You did?" The question threw him out of the horse's saddle, specially when there was so much unbelieving behind your tone. This time, instead of anger a lick of sadness came through his heart. He didn't know what had happened in your previous relationship, but whatever it did, sure left some open wounds he now started to see. 

Late as usual, but he finally noticed those cracks in your seemingly dismissive behavior whenever he got too close. The defenses your heart put up every time he complimented you genuinely, or his touches began turning a bit too intimate. 

"Of course I did, hermosa. I'm sorry for not contacting you much sooner. I... I didn't know if you wanted to still see me after what happened." He admitted, his heart pounded in his throat as you shook your head. 

"Please don't blame yourself for that. I shouldn't have said something like that either. It was my fault." You sighed, taking a good sniff of the flowers, your nerves soothed, "I should've contacted you as well. But you've got no idea how busy I was."

"Can only imagine." He offered his hand, "Let me help you with your luggage. Are you hungry?" 

The knot in your throat only tightened. 

"You're so sweet, Miguel." Your hand caressed him and he leaned in your touch, letting your warmth to bask him in again, he had missed it. He had missed you. 

"Learned that from a good teacher." He kissed your palm and before his mind scolded him from breaking the detachment rule so miserably, he pulled you for a hug. Inhaling your perfume for the first time in weeks. 

"I've missed you. A lot. I always thought about you, but my job-" 

"Hey, hey. Corazón, it's ok. I know you were working your pretty ass off back in those runways. I'm just glad you're back. Missed my favorite bossy woman." 

That earned him a half sob and chuckle as he kissed your temple and held you. 

Despite the curious and not so discreet glances some people gave your way, Miguel held you by the waist as you walked back to your awaiting car. Ready to catch up and finally, bring those walls down surrounding your heart once and for all. 

What he didn't count in was the same man he had seen back at your place in that picture, was now awaiting in the living room of your penthouse, looking in between you and him, like he had seen a ghost. 

Or for you to ask him to wait in the studio as you handled some stuff. 

But he definitely did not expect the heated argument escalating between you and that man to the point of  him rushing to your side as soon as he heard glass shattering. 

You were in tears, shaking, distressed as the man held his hips and shook his head.  

"You should be ashamed of yourself. Look at you, fucking guys that barely know shit about life." He spat as soon as he saw Miguel. 

"Funny you say so when you broke up our engagement because you didn't feel it was the right time, but you think I didn't know what you did!? You think I don't know you were stealing from me the whole time and spend it on your fucking drugs!?" 

"That was my job too! I worked for your stupid dream as much as you did. It's my job on the line too!" 

"You didn't work shit! I was the one doing the job! It's always been me taking the lead in our business because you're too fucking insecure to make a decision! You were dragging me down, Charles." 

"Well, thank me for dumping you. You think this kid loves you? How much are you paying him to screw yo-" 

Charles, or rather Charlie, your ex fiancé, didn't get to finish as he fell with a hard thud on the coffee table, breaking it in half after Miguel silenced him with a powerful punch in his face. 

Your hand covered your mouth as Miguel dragged the man through the floor with such strength and ease, it made your eyes widen, as he pushed Charles out of your penthouse. As if throwing a bag of trash outside. 

The door rattled when said man kicked it from the other side, startling you. But also having Miguel to pull you to his side without tearing his gaze from the door. 

"Are you okay, hermosa?" His gentle voice was a stark contrast against the merciless beat down he put Charles through. His thumb moved in soothing circles against your lower back. 

"Yeah, just... fuck. I swear I had no idea he would appear out of nowhere-" 

"Hey, It's alright. You don't have to explain yourself, guapa. He came here looking for trouble. Couldn't leave you hanging." 

"You're... not upset?" 

His hand cupped your cheek and wiped away the shy tears approaching the corner of your eyes

"Why would I? He came looking for trouble. They found him. And I never got to ask who was he anyway. Didn't think it was important." He kissed your temple as soon as you shuddered. 

"He wasn't. At least, not anymore. Sure I was engaged to him, but you heard the rest."

"Still, I don't understand why he dumped you."

"He had stolen enough. He didn't need me anymore. So, go figure." 

Miguel frowned and examined your face for a couple of seconds, before pursing his lips. He didn't like the way fear clung to your features. 

"He won't hurt you, ever again. Got it?" 

You nodded. And he gulped while speaking again. 

"You know... I know it might seem like I'm taking advantage of it, but I promise you... it stopped being about the money a long ago." His words sent another jolt to your heart

"And I know... I know it might seem rushed and you might think I'm just playing to get money but... I'm not, I promise I'm not." He swallowed again, "I... I really like you. I like... No. I love spending time with you. You're so... sweet and... and so considerate with me,  You're always helping me around, looking after me even if I act stupid. " He chuckled nervously, stumbling on his own speech, "You're just... so amazing, hermosa. And... I'd be the luckiest man if you give me a chance to prove you how much of the man you need, I can be." 

All he needed was a yes from you. Instead, you pulled him down for a kiss. A kiss that had him snaking his hands around your waist, and pulling you closer so he could consume your supple and needy lips. No vocal reply was needed. Not when the answer tasted sweeter than the wine you loved to drink. 

Like the compliments he gave you when clamping like a vice around him, like the little pout you gave in your sleep after a good night of several rounds with him. 

He didn't care if you were years older than him, he wanted you. And none else but you. And now that you were his, and he yours, neither had the intentions of letting go. 

Dividers by @saradika-graphics <3

[paranoiddreams]

Sukuna the secret softie (HC)

Sukuna is a powerful curse, and a merciless king. So when he starts to fall in love, he feels terrified, which in turn makes him even more terrified. Could he feel such emotions before?

Heian era!Sukuna x fem!reader

Warnings! - the slightest big suggestive lolz, fluff that makes my heart bleed :), Sukuna is emotionally constipated :P, kinda short :/

A/n! - This is my first time posting for jjk so pls be nice lol. I haven’t finished the anime/manga so this might be a lil ooc, but who cares😗. Anyways, I’m going crazy I need him :333!!!1!11!

- He’s secretly such a softie

- He is clingy, and touch starved, and probably doesn’t often have feelings for women past lust.

- But then he meets y/n and everything changes in an instant

- He easily makes her blush, and go silent, and yet he’ll feel his cursed heart twitch a little everytime :3

- Laughs a lot, because he’s actually a humorous guy!! Even if some, or most, people don’t find his humor…humor.

- And have you heard his laugh omfg it makes me wanna cu—

- Will make y/n shy on purpose, but is just as easily flustered by her.

- He doesn’t blush (he’s dead, therefore no blood flow for big papa) but he does have telltale signs that he’s a big flustered mess

- If he’s in his true form (yk with the four arms n shit) he’ll unconscious wrap the lower set around his waist and turn away with an ‘angry’ expression

- In reality, y/n probably just smiled at him, or said his hair looked cute that day, and he was in shambles.

- At first, Sukuna denies denies denies his feelings for y/n

- But then when she starts coming around more, and he starts learning more about her personality, it gets harder and harder to just pretend away his awfully human-like feelings

- It made him feel stupid

- And that’s what he told y/n when he confessed during a heated moment of panic

- They were in the village, looking around the farmers market for fresh food. Of course, since he’s da king🙌🏼👑, they give him, and the lady by his side, everything for free.

- But Sukuna being Sukuna, he didn’t want to be perceived as broke in front of his GIRL

- EVEN IF HE DENIES THAT SHES HIS GIRL OUT OF FEAR!

- So he turned to pay for everything with an extra tip (just for y/n bc she’s watching), but when he turned back she wasn’t there anymore

- The crowd swelled, and the King of Curses was hit with the realization that she could’ve been swept up into the bustling weekend rush, or an enemy from far lands has come to take the only person he’s ever been close with after death.

- He demanded that everyone halt with a deep, commanding voice, and of course they did as he said.

- He could hear a pin drop, it was so quiet.

- But then, he saw y/n and her adorable doe eyes looking up at him with confusion.

- When everyone went back to normal he was rendered speechless. If this was anyone else, he would’ve killed them.

- But when she whispers a little:

- “You okay, Kuna?”

- All of his fear and anger melts away.

- “No because I care for you, and it’s terrifying.”

- He doesn’t even know why he said that, so suddenly too, but that fear of losing y/n was paralyzing—even if it was just for a second.

- But by the end of the day, Sukuna was glad he admitted it, because it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders.

- From that moment on he and y/n were, if it was even possible, even more inseparable.

- It was safe to say that that was the day y/n because Sukuna’s official Queen, and he her king<3

DISCLAIMER!! I do not own any characters from the Anime/Manga Jujutsu Kaisen. This is purely written for entertainment purposes.

[ddejavvu]

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE can we get reader being harassed by some guy in an alleyway and hotch is walking by with the team (perhaps going to get drinks after wrapping up a case) AND HE LIKE STEPS IN AND THREATENS THE GUY?? MAYBE EVEN FLASHES HIS BADGE OR SM. Basically I'm thirsty for some protective!hotch <3

You're reminded of how unpredictable life can be when you're yanked backwards unexpectedly, tugged into the darkness of a shadowed alley between two buildings. Five seconds before you'd been thinking about dinner, and now you're not sure you'll live to see another meal.

"Cash," The man grunts, his mouth pressed to your ear as his arm cuts tight around your neck, "I need cash."

"My- my bag," You whimper, frozen stiff in fear and rendered useless, "I- I don't have much, but you- you can take it."

He throws you forwards, ripping your bag off of your shoulder in one fluid motion. He rifles through it while you relearn the art of breathing, but before he can pull your measly collection of bills from the inside pocket of your wallet, there's a gun over your shoulder pointed at his head.

For a moment, you're so dazed that you honestly think you might be holding it. But you don't have a gun, and your wrist doesn't have the dark, wiry hair on it that you see beneath a grey sleeve of whoever's got the weapon.

"Drop the purse, and the knife." A voice booms through the alleyway, deep and firm. If it was directed at you, you'd spook like a horse, and your assailant looks properly terrified.

"It's just a little cash, man," Your attacker tries, "I- I know her! She's my girlfriend."

Your savior knows he's lying before you shake your head vigorously, but you do it anyways, because sitting there and doing nothing feels wrong.

"You've already assaulted someone in front of a federal agent, don't make it worse for yourself by lying about it, too. You're lucky I don't have my cuffs with me or I'd haul you into the back of my SUV and take you down to the station right now. Instead, you're going to drop the purse, and the weapon, and run as fast as you can, because the more time you sit there and let me look at you, the better my chances are of describing you to a sketch artist and placing a warrant out for your arrest."

By the middle of the man's speech, your attacker is trembling just as much as you are. He drops your bag and his knife on command, barely avoiding tripping over the edge of the gutter drain as he flees the scene.

As soon as the gun isn't necessary anymore, the man behind you stashes it in a holster, but you can't see, your back feels permanently adhered to the wall you'd backed up against.

"You're okay," The man assures you, and his voice is much more soothing at a softer tone. He bends to gather your purse, tucking a tube of chapstick back into its confines before holding it out as a peace offering to you.

"He's gone," He promises, ducking down where your eyes are stuck to peer worriedly at you. He has a handsome face, but it's pinched in concern, big brown eyes dripping with care, "And I will put that warrant out for his arrest. Are you alright? Did he hurt you?"

"No," You breathe, still pressed to the wall even as you shake your head, "No, he- Thank you, I- I don't know what I would have done without you."

"I usually show up to these things a little late," He grimaces, dropping your purse back down to his side and holding out an empty hand instead, "Can I help you get where you were going?"

"Home." You mutter, "I was- I was going home. After work."

"I can drive you there, if you'd like." He offers, pleased when you reach out with a shaky hand to take his own, "Or we can walk, whichever you prefer. I just want to make sure nothing else happens."

"Um, I- I can pay for a ride. Here," You take your purse back, tugging a bill out that you're lucky to still possess, "If- it's just down the street, if you really don't mind."

"Keep it," He pushes your hand back towards your purse, "I just stopped a guy from taking your money, I'm not gonna do the same. My car's right outside, okay? Let me help you there. And- uh," He rifles through his jacket, "I wasn't lying about being an agent." He showcases a black-covered badge, Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner written in bold lettering beneath his name, "You'll be safe with me."

"Okay," You nod, accepting the hand that he holds your arm with to ease you off of the wall and onto your shaky legs, "Uh, thank you, Agent- Hotchner."

"No need." He murmurs, eyes scanning the crowd to make sure there's no sign of your assailant, "Let's just get you home safe, honey."

[not-xpr-art]

Len and Tommy's life told through nine photos ~

A fanart based on the Inside no 9 episode 'Bernie Clifton's Dressing Room' because I loved it so much!

(09/2024)

See below for close ups and unnecessarily detailed explanations of each individual artwork lol

First wanna say that I spent wayy too long on these (like 25+ hours), especially trying to make them look like actual old photos lol... also trying to get their likeness right for the various ages was really bloody hard lol, but hopefully each photo has the essence of each character even if it might not look 100% right pfft...

Second thing is that the dates & locations are very much my own subjective thoughts on their life and not particularly rooted in the canon of the show lol

Also I did go really heavy with the colour symbolism lol...

Ravenhill School, 1965.

The year they met, both are around the age of 10 (give or take). Len is 3 from the left in the top row, Tommy 2 in from the left on the bottom row (also I tried to include references to the other 2 League Of Gentlemen guys... Though I think the only vaguely recognisable one is Jeremy pfft)

Also shout out to @lapis-lazuliie for the idea that they met at school!

(side note, this is the least detailed of all the paintings not just because I was too lazy to render all those children's faces pfft but ALSO because of the significance of them being less recognisable or prominent in each other's lives in this point...)

I was planning on making another childhood/early teen photo but couldn't really think of any good subject matter that could also fit thematically with the episode (also the fact both are coming from poor families who would have had limited access to cameras in this era means we can just pretend that there are just no photos that really exist of them at these ages pfft...)

Photo booth in Leeds, 1974.

Both in their late teens, they'd (well, mainly Tommy) gone to a photo booth in Leeds with the intention of getting some professional looking photos only for Len to immediately make Tommy laugh once they got in there lol

The middle photo is covered in lines as Tommy had planned on throwing it away, only to find he couldn't bring himself to do it in the end... Is it platonic? Romantic? Both? Who knows, you decide lol! I mainly wanted it to be a candid moment between two people that love each other lol

(final one is them play fighting because that's kinda just what 19 year olds are like pfft... also I think photo booths technically gave you 4 photos? so let's pretend there was another photo that they did throw away for whatever reason lol...)

Rehearsals, 1979.

Deep in the midst of practising their routine for some of their first performances!

I'll admit this photo was mainly me wanting to include something more episode specific lol and also to get in some much needed heavy handed symbolism (the crease in the photo separating them, the bottle in front of Len's face, etc)

Polaroids taken at Tommy's flat, 1985.

In-between shows the two often spent a lot of time at Tommy's place (featuring that god awful sofa the previous home owner had left). I did originally plan to have them in the sofa shot together, but was finding it hard to figure out who would have been taking that kind of photo so figured it made more sense to make it shots they took of each other.

Also marks the beginnings of Tommy's weariness (& Len's over drinking...)

Outside the Glasgow Pavilion, 1988.

The morning of that fateful performance...

Ok not much else I wanna say about this other than the reference I used for the pose had Reece sorta awkwardly clasping his hands in front of him which I really liked but unfortunately in my art it just looked like he was trying to cover his crotch so I had to change it pfft...

Tommy standing at Len's grave, 2024.

The sixth anniversary of Len's death, and the sixth time Tommy has travelled across from France to lay flowers at his grave. Photo taken by Leanne from the inside of a taxi (I'd like to have had more references to her in these photos but was unsure of dates/ages where it would have fitted...)

She couldn't get her phone to not focus on the raindrops on the window as she tried to take a picture of Tommy at her father's grave but then realised that she actually liked the pathetic fallacy and had it made into a print anyway lol (look I'll be the first to admit that this is the least 'realistic' in terms of a photo that people would take, but I couldn't resist the symbolism of it lol...)

There were a lot more ideas for photos I wanted to do but for obvious reasons had to keep it to just 9 lol

Also will be posting these on my ao3 with snippets of stories to go with each photo so keep an eye out for when I share that link!

[stitchesplus]

Ok so I was able to make this post a few hours before Deltarune is releasing thankfully. Now, what was the mysterious surprise I wanted to show you so much that I teased it in 2 posts? Well, you know the Yo-kai Arachnia? You know how she doesn't have a Shadowside form? (Lady Arachnia doesn't count since she's a different entity). Well, a fellow artist called N/Nathan/Enmafavhusband made a Lightside Arachnia and allowed me to draw her^^

This is her original design btw, it's also in the Fan-kai Wiki I mentioned in this other post! (She's so pretty omg)

And what can I say about this Fan-kai honestly? I would've been fine if SS Arachnia was just a SS Arachnus palette swap, but this??? This is genuinely an amazing design like omg. I love how she both keeps a similar resemblance to her Classic counterpart while also being unique from Arachnus ❤ And her having a smoking pipe not only fits her traditional Japanese Jorogumo theme, but also fits her since she's a venom expert!

As for the render I made, I tried to draw her close to the artstyle that official Level 5 renders use, while trying to keep as much of the charm from the og drawing as possible (can you tell how much I love this Yo-kai? hehe). And also if you notice, the render I made of her has her in a mirrored pose to Arachnus' so they contrast more^^ The only "changes" I did to her was showing her legs (I kept the sandals and black leggings that Classic Arachnia uses) and adding a poison cloud emerging from her pipe.

Now, you might thing this is all, but you guys are aware that the main gimmick of Shadowside Yo-kai are the fact they have 2 sides. And while N didn't make her a Shadowside, I decided to do it myself. Meet Shadowside Arachnia!

Now, I have a lot to say about this Fan-kai since I'm the one who made her.

So, how did I design her? Well, since I liked N's Lightside so much, I wanted to give her a Shadowside that was worthy of her, and also wanted her to look unique enough from SS Arachnus just like how her LS is unique from his!

So, I used his design as a base, but also made her legs that way because when LS Arachnia uses her powers, she creates these glowing spider legs in her back. I added them to her SS Arachnia since Shadowside gameplay-wise acts like a second Soultimate, so it makes sense for her SS to have it by default^^

As for her different face, I actually used the Jorogumo that shows up when Classic Arachnia uses her Spider Crash Soultimate^^ I tried to combine both her features and SS Arachnus' features.

And finally, I also made her keep her LS's clothes in her SS since SS Arachnus also keeps his shirt. Though I decided to add a skull too since I thought it fit her. Also here's her render without the nametag.

And that should be it! I was really excited to show this (despite having made it a bit ago whoops) since I already love the funny Classic transgender spider girl, so seeing this interpretation of what she'd look like 30 years older made me very happy (to the point I made her Shadowside myself haha). And bias aside, I already try my best when drawing, but you can definitely tell I put extra effort in these because of how much I love them <3

I do have some more renders to show, but I'll most likely log off here (and in most social media apps) to avoid Deltarune spoilers until I finish the game. So, cya until then ❤

[ventique18]

~ Malleus son hc feat. his parents (Malleus/Yuu♀️)

The adventures of Malleus II (the son) who lives with the reputation of being the second coming of his almighty father. He's got it all: a naturally handsome face, unparalleled brains, and strength that of a thousand men. He's so glorious that no one from his era could ever hope to get close to the ground he walks on.

... Except he's actually just a guy. A completely normal person. His IQ is average and he's just as strong as the next guy. What's unique about him though, is that he has terrifying luck.

His unblemished record of being crowned as the Spelldrive World Champion for 3 years straight? His opponents were just so intimidated by him that they fall off their brooms, injure themselves, and are rendered unable to fight. He's literally only used common fireball spells and a few gusts of wind here and there. For some reason though, the commentators would holler excitedly and announce to the entire world that the young Draconia only needs the most basic of spells to topple over the most gargantuan of opponents. SASUGA DRACONIA-OUJI! they would cry.

And those perfect grades that catapulted him to the top of National Exam Rankings? Those were his lucky letter-dice doing the hard work. He was so absorbed in his sculpting hobby the other week that he completely forgot to study-- only relying heavily on throwing the dice the very day of the exam and praying that he'd guess good enough to not get kicked out of school. And when he did pick out something he was quite sure was right, he was wrong. That was his only incorrect number.

Indeed, he's a sham. He would've felt guilty, but then again his parents actually know how he really is behind the ritz and glamor. His dad's so amused by it, in fact, that he never fails to show up to each and every one of his son's matches; a little to encourage the boy, but mostly because he finds it entertainment of the highest caliber to watch how his lucky son would outmatch his opponents in the oddest ways you could never have guessed.

And after every victorious match, every perfected exams, or even after dragging back a trophy from some out-of-the-blue pageant he got roped into, he would come home to table filled to the brim with his favorite meals. Which are mostly just some variations of dishes made of cream. An occasion he loves, by the way, considering he doesn't always get to enjoy cream because they're way above his daily nutritional quota.

"Wow, a congratulatory feast for my Spelldrive match?" He says as he plops down the chair in front of his parents' usual spots; not even bothering to take off his gear.

"No," His mom replies, "A celebratory feast for living the life you like to live."

He pauses; speechless. It does bother him sometimes, he's got to admit. He's a prince. He's supposed to act like one. He's not supposed to rely on some lucky dice or hope for others to get into unfortunate circumstances just so he'd win. He's supposed to read through every book in the library, swing a sword until his fingers bled, chant his spells until he's sore in the throat-- work hard every single day, just like his father did.

"What are you staring at us for?" His father laughs, "Eat up and finish fast. You still have not quite finished that project I gave you, did you? I want that gargoyle's wings twice as large."

He bursts into a laughter of his own and starts digging into his creamy carbonara. He still wants to work hard, yes, but maybe... Maybe it's not so bad enjoying his teenage life too.

Tomorrow... Yeah, tomorrow, he'll start chipping at that history book he hasn't opened since the start of the semester.

The dad, as if reading what's on his son's mind, simply chuckles and sneakily steals the tub of ice cream his wife was saving for dessert.

[charbies]

linktober 31 - HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!

I thought for the last day I'd write a little retrospective on what this whole thing was like and what I learned. I'm too tired to draw literally anything else I'm due for a break lol

So this was my second time ever attempting a linktober/october drawing challenge, but my first time managing to complete all the days and prompts. I feel super proud of myself and accomplished for pulling it off.

There were a number of things that were surprising and that were challenging for me that I wasn't expecting this month. If anything, I think this challenge really highlighted my flaws and mental blindspots with how I approach making art.

For one thing, I came away from this not liking everything I made. I think I only like about 9 or 10 of the 30 pieces I put out there. When I don't like my art, I tend to get stuck in this mental stalemate of refusing to finish a piece until I like it, but also refusing to retrace my steps and erase/rework what I have so far for fear of losing progress or not being able to replicate the line/angle/color/etc that I liked.

It was surprisingly hard to accept when I didn't like a piece but had to move on for the sake of time and post it anyway. But once I did it a few times, it got easier. I realized prioritizing my standards over my available energy is not gonna promote progress. If I kept sinking myself into one piece and not moving on until it was optimal, I never would have finished anything-- that was the pitfall that ultimately made me bail out 10 days in last year.

I also realized my sunk cost fallacy/"what if I erase this and can never redraw it good again" stems from some real lack of confidence in my knowledge and techniques with art. I'm self-taught, and I think I tend to believe that everything I make is a dumb happy accident, even though I have mental rules when I draw, use tons of references, and have a process lol. There are a few pieces I started over 2-3 times before I got them right, and that's starting to feel liberating instead of like failing to me now, which I never expected to come out of this experience so that's cool.

Another place I had to learn to let go of control in this was with allowing for style variation. I really wanted each and every piece to be coherent and painterly, like they all came from the same book or something. But then I couldn't decide whether I wanted to do all/no lineart, all/no detailed background, all/no heavy rendering, etc. At the end I settled on just keeping the same canvas dimensions and just prioritizing filling up the space. Glad I ended up doing this, because I really would benefit from continuing to chill out and scale back how much I default to making dramatic, high-render pieces. I gotta break out of my comfort zone and make more sketchy little guys!

Sometimes my attachment to the prompts fluctuated; some prompts I thought I would love and then just wanted to get them over with. Some prompts I thought I would hate and subsequently half-ass, then I ended up redoing them and putting more effort & time into and loved the end result!

It was funny to also see how some pieces that I loved straight up did not get a whole lot of notes or attention. Some pieces I was "meh" about did crazy numbers lol. I'm used to posting maybe 5-6 times a year on here, so I'm usually indifferent to getting notes (by which I mean, I'm super grateful for likes & reblogs and the super sweet & funny messages in y'alls tags, but I'm not butthurt when I don't get notes because whatever happens, happens). Churning out 30 pieces in 30 days made me sometimes get bewildered by what did and didn't get notes, but frankly in the end I think it helps reaffirm that I should continue putting whatever I want out there because it! is! not! graded!!!

So would I do Linktober again? Probably not, sorry! it was a lot of time & effort and took me away from fall festivities more than I would have liked. I kinda only managed to pull this off because I was transitioning between jobs this month and had a week off to just draw. But I also completely see the value in taking on a challenge like this and finishing what I started, I'm super glad I did this, I think my art improved from it. I would definitely do future drawing challenges/prompt things that are quicker or have less prompts!

My advice to prospective future linktoberers: pace yourself and be gentle; this is a great chance to do something exciting and new with your art, but above all it's about you having fun. There are no prizes at the end except for what you've learned and how you feel about it, and that's for the best!!

One thing's for sure, I am zelda'd out lmao so I'll be branching out towards some little projects I have lined up for personal art and other fandoms I'm into right now

So anyway thanks to all of you who read this or who gassed me up this whole month, I appreciate you!!!!!!!! ヾ(＾∇＾)

[loreartisan]

Okay, I've had some time to let my thoughts settle about the River Cartwright/Louisa Guy snippet we saw in the S5 preview and (while I've kind of begrudgingly accepted it) I've come to a conclusion about why I was opposed to it.

For the most part, I've gotten the impression that River is a very very single guy who doesn't really 'go' for women/romantic situations. And to me, this makes sense. I'll elaborate below, if you're curious to see my thought process. If you're one of the ppl who think he really deserves to be with someone, then... idk this is just my own justification. Get ready, I'm going full analytical essay mode here.

Reason 1: He respects boundaries too much. In season 1, when Sid tries telling him the reason she's at Slough House, he tells her that he doesn't want to know since it's likely for personal reasons which is "none of his business". In season 2, when Lamb says that River should 'get' with Kelly if she offers, River is very opposed to this and finds it (rightfully) unethical. In season 3, River tells Louisa that her private life is not Lamb's business and that he shouldn't bring up her "way of processing her trauma". In season 4, he hesitates to share his personal problems with Louisa, emphasizing that he is considerate of "keeping things work related". There are a lot of instances where River shows how he doesn't want to take things beyond what is needed, which to me translates to: friends are all I need.

Reason 2: It's very anti-Bond of him. James Bond is this slick, suave guy who manages to charm every lady he comes across in literally every iteration he's in. One of Bond's most recognizable aspects is how he is always seducing women to get his job done. River is this awkward guy who bumbles most of his social interactions through misunderstandings and sarcasm. Most of River's characterization is on the basis that he thinks he's Bond, but continually proves in many ways how he is the opposite of him. River's relationships with women is another way to telling the audience that he is very far from being the 'perfect' spy that James Bond is.

Reason 3: He's got too much drama around him that renders romance unnecessary. River is likely one of Slow Horse's most intriguing characters, solely based on his family background. The grandson of a legendary spook, the son of an ex-CIA mercenary, the son of a bitter and neglected daughter, the brother to trained assassins who got in trouble with lots of people... There are so many points of interest around River's family alone that I just don't think a romantic plot would benefit his character. It's nice to have rounded, three-dimensional characters, but if a character has too many conflicts and side plots, it can get difficult to keep up with. If I had to choose between the themes of River coming to terms with his family legacy or allowing him to find romance with someone, I'd pick the first option because it seems far more intriguing and has more setup/depth.

There are more subtle reasons here and there, and I know that the book version of River contradicts some of my points, but these are the major aspects behind my pitch for "River should stay single and not be shipped with anyone." I see why he might be shipped with some ppl, but ultimately that is my stance on River's romantic life. His women friends should just stay friends, and I am glad Spider died because that man was TOXIC and i dont know why ppl ship them.

uhhhhh thanks for reading my essay? Hopefully yall see the way I'm thinking (maybe i convinced you to see my side of things too???). Crazy how i did all this based on 0.5 seconds of footage that is likely (in true River fashion) a misunderstanding. Yay for overthinking!

Let me know if my essay was good (was it engaging? was my writing good? did i bring up some dogwater points?), i spent more time on this than I expected but it feels good to air my thoughts out.

TL;DR I am ✨ delusional ✨

[rewh0re]

—968 words, angst, death, deep talks about life, cemeteries. yea ig that's it. yea also wrote this at 3 am guys i am mighty sleep deprived

a/n; atp I'm doing everything BUT studying or writing my gojo fic :D (gojo fic someday you'll see the light till then this megumi angst has to compensate for it) REBLOGS + FEEDBACKS ARE APPRECIATED!!

megumi can never truly forget that memory.

he remembers clear blue skies and the occasional chirping of birds along with the flapping of their wings. white clouds slowly drifting in the air and dragonflies hovering over the grass. the trees were green and lush, the leaves gently rustling due to the cool breeze which could mean one thing alone—the advent of spring. there was a silence that washed his body with a strange type of peace, a peace he had never quite known, that he had just allowed himself to feel. and there was a presence—you—standing beside him, looking at the unknown grave, head tilted slightly and hands deep in your pockets.

he couldn't help but think—there was so much life bursting amidst a place that housed the dead.

megumi never liked cemeteries. they made him sad, unhappy, gloomy in a way. but you found a certain peace in them. to walk in silence, looking at the many graves—you had said it calmed one's soul. made one think. made one feel grateful for their life.

"it's almost amusing, don't you think?" you had asked, breaking your silence.

"dead people amuse you now?" megumi looked over at you to find you still looking at the grave. how could it ever be amusing to look at a stranger's grave? he swore that sometimes even you didn't understand what you were saying.

"no idiot," you shook your head, a little chuckle bursting out of your throat as your eyes locked with his.

"what i mean is," you sighed "that these people, they were people, like you and me. they had dreams and hopes and aspirations. they worked hard for their passions and hoped to achieve so much through their efforts. isn't it awful how many of these people might never have reached their dreams? their lives cut short as they were snatched away from their own loved ones?"

you ruffled your hair before crossing your arms, "i find it unfair. isn't it unfair? how you never know what will happen? how you, me—all of us—will just become another memory to be forgotten? how we'll just become dust, become one with the earth? our names, just some carvings on some stones and even then—everything will just go on as it is. life will go on. we're just lone stars burning out in the massive universe."

megumi could only look at you. you had that effect on him, rendering him speechless through your words alone. a few seconds passed before he finally found his voice again.

"well," he began, tone laced with a certain gentleness that only showed itself in your presence. "i see it more like the beauty of life. we're here and then we're not. we live and we love and we thrive and we falter. it's the way of life, or the rule of life, whatever you call it. i think that's why we have to make sure we make the most of it. life is unpredictable and that's what makes it so thrilling."

"i think you're right—well—in a way at least. i've learnt to cherish my life. i think with you by my side, i can stand strong and proud and i can live. i'm glad you found me and i found you and i'm glad that we're always by each other's side," you smiled up at him, nudging his shoulder.

"always?"

"always."

wasn't that the promise you made?

it was like looking through a glass window, so vividly was that day's image imprinted on his mind. he wanted to break that glass and take a hold of that memory and relive it again and again and again if it meant he could have you by his side. he definitely would do that if he could.

life is not really beautiful he learnt after he started visiting the cemetery more often. it was cruel, it was ruthless, it filled one with agony and suffering and pain. oh, so much pain.

he never looked at random graves anymore like he did before with you. no, he looked at just one. the name etched on the stone with a few leaves scattered at the base—l/n y/n.

it hurt, it truly did. through you, megumi learnt love and loss, he learnt heartbreak and grief and what it felt like to cry in the middle of the night wishing for you to hold him close and whisper i'm here. you never were though, you wouldn't be there anymore, you wouldn't cradle him and card your fingers softly through his hair or wipe his tears or kiss his worries away. you wouldn't and that was reality and he had to live with that reality.

megumi learnt through you how promises were only made to be broken—knowingly or unknowingly.

but you taught him how to love and to be loved, how to find beauty and peace in the mundane, how to dream big and how to care, to be kind.

he loved you but he had to let you go. alas, you wouldn't want him to be stuck, frozen in a place where darkness loomed and nothing but sheer heartache reigned supreme. maybe it was true that a part of him was gone. maybe it was true that he would never feel truly and completely whole again. but he could swear your ghost would curse at him if he didn't at least try to move forward.

so he laid a bouquet of white carnation at the base of your grave, uttering a silent prayer.

"always." he brought his index and middle finger to his lips and then placed it on the top of the headstone before standing up, burying his hands deep in his coat pockets.

"always." he whispered, letting his words get carried by the air before turning around to walk away.

[itslilacokay]

pls pls PLSS tell me about your NS? au i need to know as much as humanly possible...

sniff... i.... i thought no one would ever ask........... nows my chance...... to yap..........

AHEM.

ns?AVA (normalswap?ava) is my swap au! its not normal

victim and tco both take tsc's role, while tsc just takes victim's role

mercenaries swap roles with cg, though its not exact on which mercenary takes specific a cg member's role and vice versa, theyre quite jumbled around

though one specific stick in the cg doesnt take a mercenary's role and that's yellow, in fact he takes tdl's role! as for tdl he takes tco's role

"so in your au there's like only 3 mercenaries instead of 4?????" no i thought of something else to remedy that

you know that cloaked guy that gave king the command block? yeah hes a mercenary now

speaking of king........ he has a different role as well but that's in ns?avm, which i'll get to later because i need to explain more ns?ava things

so fun fact! the hollowheads have new names for this au

tsc -> The First Victim (tfv)

tdl -> The Chosen Lord (tcl)

victim -> The Return (tr)

tco -> The Second Chance (scn)

btw the animator is alexcrafter28, aka that minecraft kid in lush caves

for ns?ava lore, i wrote down what happened in ns?ava1-4 a few months ago so if you dont miiind

SWAP-AVA 1 -tfv becomes a rogue animation and destroys the computer -tfv finds the stickfight website and convinces the colorgang to destroy the computer with him, they agree -colorgang gets "ended", which makes ctv want to destroy the computer even more -ends like normal ava1 with the fla closing without being saved, since tfv is bound to that fla file he disappears with it

an extra thing to note is that if this were a video, there would be an ""animation error"" where yellow didnt get shown to be ended, an aucanon explanation would be that yellow managed to escape to the outernet, albeit on accident

SWAP-AVA 2 -tcl is made and destroys the pc, wow what a shocker -alex eventually traps him and just renders him powerless, though tcl's able to still wander around the pc

SWAP-AVA3 -yellow appears back in the pc and starts destroying it again -tcl tries to stop him but eventually joins him and also the code that disabled his power gets removed (yellow did it) -just like normal ava3, it ends with them both completely destroying the computer, ending with a blue screen of death

SWAP-AVA4 -starts like normal ava4, in the middle of an online chat -however, it starts in the middle of scn destroying the computer -scn comes across an fla file and finds tr and co -they hang out for a bit but alex eventually finds the fla with them inside -fight sequence -as soon as alex is about to close the fla a few flashbacks to (swap)ava 1 happen -they come up with a compromise, scn doesnt wreck the pc and alex lets him and his new friends hang out in said pc -a little while later it shows that scn, tr and co are in their own fla, with a house drawn inside it (similar to the stickfight website)

a few extra things i want to add before heading to ns?avm is that in this au, when tfv gets brought back from deletion he tries to immediately go back to the stickfight website in hopes of bringing back the cg

it works, but yellow is still missing

they then find out about the outernet and try to find yellow there

along the way they founded illustratiocorp

just to make it clear they dont care about the animator, or at least getting revenge on the animator is of less importance to them at the moment, for now they just want to find yellow

the reason why tcl is wanted is because he was suspected to have involvement with yellow somehow,,, and also the past instances/news of internet terrorizing but yeahhg

i think thats all for ns?AVA for the moment, now is time for ns?AVM!

so in ns?AVM, gold and king found purple and took him in (purple's lore up until that point still stays, orchid dies and navy leaves)

purple died in the minecraft event and gold feels severe survivor's guilt and now wants to destroy minecraft

unlike king, gold's ,.,,, a child so this hatred against minecraft is more severe

speaking of king, yeah he's still traumatized but he still has a bit of moral left and doesn't want gold to go through with this plan

gold then early on finds out how to enter minecraft because of the cloaked guy (gasp)

in this au, cloaked guy originally resided in the mac and later led gold to said mac

gold decided this would be a good time to start destroying a bit of minecraft currently on the mac, but accidentally ended up being a ruler of the mac village (definitely not because cloaked guy gave him the crown and silently left and the villagers took that as cloaked guy passing down the crown to this kid)

then skip to a whiiiile later, gold and cloaked guy are kinda working together and cloaked guy is also teaching gold how to work with the command block

now that golds more confident on working the command block, his plan to destroy minecraft can finally begin right after making a staff because he still liked his old staff during his time as ruler of the mac village

honestly i havent thought much about ns?AVM as much as i have with ns?AVA so maybe i'll post some other lorethings about ns?AVM after i think some more, but apart from that i thiiink thats about it yeah

[lemonnere]

.⭐🍀 INTRO POST 🍀⭐.

Heyo there, my name is Nere! I'm an artist/animator who loves sharing my silly drawings and interests :] Here I'll mostly be sharing my art, from fully rendered drawings to doodles, and I'll occasionally yap about my interests lol. I hope you like my stuff! Click below to read more (important cuz it includes my BYI and DNI)

🌲More about me:🌲

- 20 years old

- he/him + she/her pronouns

- gay and asexual

- Spanish 🇪🇸, speaks fluent Spanish, English and Catalan + a bit of Japanese

- Animation student at U-Tad university

- Self-shipper (nothing serious tho + I'm totes sharing!)

🌻Some interests:🌻

- Undertale Yellow (main)

- Your turn to Die (current)

- Regular Show (current)

- The Amazing World of Gumball

- Deponia

- Danganronpa

- Animal Crossing

- Splatoon

- Sonic and Mario games

- Pokémon

- Horror RPGs, analog horror, liminal spaces

- Happy Tree Friends

- OG Undertale/Deltarune

- Cookie Run

💚F/OS:💚

📋Benson Dunwoody (Regular Show)

🍳🔎Kai Satou and Keiji Shinogi (YTTD)

🪨☁️Larry Needlemeyer and Steve Small (TAWOG)

🖋️Ryota Mitarai (Danganronpa)

⭐Starlo (Undertale Yellow)

💼Brian Pasternack (Yuppie Psycho)

‼️BYI:‼️

- I'm very shy and I have anxiety, paranoia and trust issues :'D I may not show it but don't be surprised if I end up venting one day, I've been going through a rough time lately. I also use a lot of tone indicators. ALSO please if you DM me make sure to not make your message only be "hello/hi" it makes me super nervous please specify the reason why you DM'd me.

- Please only follow me if you're genuinely interested in my art. I've had a lot of people unfollowing me the second I posted something from another fandom or OCs :( I'm multifandom so please keep in mind that while I draw a lot of stuff for my current fixations I may want to change a bit from time to time!

- You're free to use my art as profile pics, banners, etc. but PLEASE always credit me. If you have Toyhouse and upload my art there make sure to credit my TH acc! (@Lemonere) <3 Please don't trace, copy or post my art without my permission/credit.

- My comms are open so DM me if interested! (I'm a bit slower when I have exams tho) My art trades are open to CLOSE friends only but if I open them to the public I post letting everyone know!

- I accept drawing requests related to my interests but due to a massive burnout experience I had last year I will take it easier and just do the ones I feel like it whenever I feel like it, but don't be shy to drop em in my ask box <3 (multiple requests from the same person is fine but please don't bombard me bc I'll just do the ones I want aaa) [needless to say, I won't respond to asks or accept requests that make me uncomfortable.]

- I sometimes love drawing stuff involving horror, blood/gore, angsty things etc. I'll make sure to tag that stuff if it's too sensitive! If it makes you uncomfortable you can just ignore or block. ALSO I do some suggestive art on rare occasions so be aware of that (I'll CW it too)

- I'm aware there's yumeshippers who are strictly non-sharing, I want to make it clear that I selfship for fun and comfort but it's nothing deep, I'm sharing with everyone and I don't claim to like x character more or less than anyone. If my presence makes you uncomfy, please block and ignore me but don't harass me. :(

- I only go by he/him/she/her pronouns, I don't like using gender identity labels for myself so please only see me as a guy or a gal and that's it! <3 please don't use they/them or other pronouns for me ("they" is only fine if you forgot or did it accidentally <3)

💔DNI:💔

- Proshippers and comshippers

- Ped0s, z00s, racist people, people against the LGBTQ+ community, basic criteria yk

- Anyone willing to harass me or my friends

- Art thieves

- Cringe culture (I just wanna have fun :()

- People making me uncomfy and/or disrespecting my boundaries

⬇️STRAWPAGE (for drawings only), TOYHOUSE, YOUTUBE AND COMMISSION SHEET LINKS⬇️

[prettyboysdontlookatexplosions]

sharing my blurb for SLUT ME OUT 3 here (although i recommend reading all of them, everyone across the spectrum of haters and champions brought their A-game for this, as is only right and proper), both because this was the most fun i had blurbing all year and because i need to share the greatness of SLUT ME OUT 3, the most fun two and a half minutes in music i've heard this year, with as many people as humanly possible; do yourself a favor and click play, but, like, maybe not in public (this song is disgusting and i am obsessed)

Nothing about such an aggressively single-minded ode to fucking as many bitches as physically possible should work, and yet I listen to “Slut Me Out 3” and am filled only with radiant joy. The song is is so hyperbolic, so extreme, so wildly filthy and yet weirdly unhorny that it’s impossible to take at face value as an expression of actual human behavior or desire; it reminds me less of other songs about fucking and more of that sketch where Vanessa Bayer can’t nail the tone on a cutely self-deprecating Instagram caption. Every single detail is miraculously deranged: the most genuinely disgusting scatological image I’ve encountered this year or possibly this decade, all the more jarring because it comes right on the heels of an incongruously sweet bit of mama’s boy pride; the concept of an endorsement with Plan B, as if the manufacturers of emergency contraception are a cereal brand signing a deal with the gold medalist of the Sex Olympics; the fact that she wants him to have her baby; “marinated pussy.” Take the proclamation “fuck her til my dick bleedin’”: for a half second it sounds normal, just a guy bragging about his stamina in the sack, and then your brain processes the actual line and you think, wait, what? Is that… good? Is it supposed to be hot? Is it even possible? Should he be seeking medical attention? Lines like that break reality, rendering the universe of the song cartoonish and bizarre. NLE comes across as some kind of pornographic comic book mutant, a superhero whose gift, burden, purpose, and promise is to fuck every woman alive. His dick is not just huge, it’s inconveniently large; his touch is so hot it can literally be fatal. When he excuses himself after finishing the job with two freak hoes to depart for an orgy at “pussy villa” (a pussy villa? the pussy villa? is Pussy Villa a proper noun?), his attitude is that of Batman, depositing the Scarecrow at the precinct before turning right back around to resume his unceasing rooftop watch. His hunger for justice (sex) is as insatiable as his determination is relentless; wherever there is pussy to be fucked, he’ll be there, Tom Joad as written by Philip Roth. The whole ridiculous scenario floats easily by on an ebullient beat, busy but never crowded, anchored by NLE’s motor-mouthed nonchalance. Carey Washington’s playfully chipper refrain functions similarly to the close-ups of women laughing in ecstasy during the stripping scenes in Magic Mike XXL, reassuring the audience that however it might look from the outside, everyone involved wants to be here and is having a grand old time. After the music cuts out, she says “Oh my God,” laughing and incredulous. You can almost see her rolling her eyes, giving him an affectionate shove, turning to us as the house lights come up, smiling and shaking her head as if to say, can you believe what we just did? [10]