#my rendering and coloring skills is not good

[galaxiabunny]

Theyre just taking a break in the underdark, just having a little snack (ﾉ∀`♥)

[milkbreadtoast]

Prince Jesse Venetiaan, the Moon of the Divine Kingdom🌙✨

[dreki]

My contribution to the Every Frame project hosted by @dotswithbrainrot! This was a lot of fun to do, I'm so happy and honored to be a part of this cool project!

Reblogs are appreciated. :)

[lollipopmixclo9]

G-Gehrman Sparrow/Klein Moretti | Lord of the Mysteries

"I'm a polite person.

"When visiting someone's place for the first time, overstaying would be impolite."

[ultrakillmmmyes]

YO WHAT THE FUCK

Ultratober days 1-3

Favourite soundtrack: Order

[deepfriedseagullfeet]

ooooo i wish i was like a good artist

[vetyr]

hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT

Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.

When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.

I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.

Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.

For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.

Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.

The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!

It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.

I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).

Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)

[fobnsfwdoodlesbackup]

These are now officially posted on the WordPress! :3

I will be adding process videos and lineart/sketch versions to the WordPress today :3

Ever see an AI generated anime girl in a skimpy outfit and ask yourself....what if it was Middle Aged Pop Punk Band Fall Out Boy?

Two full color illustrations for Halloween, I'm early releasing them on the Patreon along with the process videos and will post on the wordpress soon!

Remember, commissions are open 🎃⭐💕

[deceptive-daydreams]

I Want Your Midnights

Logan Howlett x fem!reader

A New Year’s party at the mansion where you and Logan pretty much sneak away to dote on each other

Contains: Tooth-rotting fluff, drinking, allusions to sex, slight angst for like 2 seconds

This is just a cute little thing I thought up but also this is my first time writing for Logan, pls be gentle.

Champagne lingered on his tongue, you could taste the slight bitterness and nearly recreate the bubbly fizz you’d basked in just minutes ago.  Since then, it had been teeth clashing together mixed with endless kisses and large hands pawing at your dress.  He’d been scooping up handfuls of you like he’d never get enough, like it’d never satiate his hunger, his pure desire for you.

Maybe it was the tipsy haze you’d found yourselves in but the corner of the party quickly became your paradise, an island meant only for the two of you while everyone else counted down the seconds.  They gathered in front of the TV with their champagne flutes in hand, seeking the ones they’d kiss and embrace into the new year.

Meanwhile you’d started early, nipping on one another’s lips, noses squished to cheeks, fingers tangled in hair.  “Be right there” turned into a false statement, a lie you told to Rogue when she waved you both over into the family room.  You didn’t mean to lie, it’s just that gravity kept you in Logan’s lap, rendering you useless and unable to recall the proper motor skills to carry yourself into the other room.

Logan grinned, an uncontrollable thing that he’d deny anyone else saw should they ask the following day.  And before you could tease him, all smiley and eyes crinkled, he nuzzled into your cheek, nearly purring like a well fed cat but rather than food, your attention kept him beyond satisfied.

“Happy New Year.”  

At this he rolled his eyes, more playful as opposed to his usual standoffish self.  Always more playful in your presence.

Remnants of a deep rouge painted his upper lip, the color bleeding into his skin, coating some of his stubble.  As your thumb trailed along his scratchy jaw, you admired your unintentional artistry, hints of red that just belonged.

He was too handsome for his own good, so much so that you’d taken it upon yourself earlier in the night to undo the top buttons of his shirt.  A miniscule gesture that warned him of your intentions for later, a means to tease but done so elegantly in the plain sight of party guests and your closest friends.  

He’d caught your wrist then, a delicate yet firm hold as he muttered “Careful, doll.”  Your face had gone hot, flustered under his dark, heavy-lidded gaze.

That’s how you’d ended up in the corner, taking it upon yourselves to give into the hunger taunting you both in the midst of lurking eyes, marveling at him, at The Wolverine, soft and pliable in your possession.  

Tame.

Only you would be able to gently tuck a glass of champagne into his large hand that usually clung stubbornly to a beer.  Only you could so nonchalantly place it in his hold without a single gripe.  And it drew the attention of nosy acquaintances and even well loved friends as they stared.

Logan didn’t care for staring.

It wasn’t lost on you that he was so used to the universe working against him, always waiting for the other shoe to drop, just patiently welcoming disaster as if it were an old friend, as if it’s all he’d ever known.  Cause it was.  But with you, there had finally been peace and that terrified him.

He didn’t have to say it.  You just knew.

Intimacy scared him, getting close scared him.  And it took attempt after attempt to even scratch the surface of his ever-bleeding heart, to even begin to bandage it up and create some sort of healing process because prior to you, liquor had been his chosen antidote for life’s tragedies.

After several lingering stares, you could feel the way he’d tensed up.  He hated attention like this, didn’t know what to do with it other than scowl and storm off.  Which is why you lured him into this particular corner before his thoughts could get to him and yank him out of his content state, soon to banish him back to his room where he could fester.

Now you had him right where you wanted him, pink cheeked and kiss bitten, gazing at you through his eyelashes like the flirt you knew he could be.  A warm hand rested on your hip, thumb tracing the fabric of your dress again and again, almost to soothe himself rather than you.

“What, you’re too manly man to say it back?”  You taunted, dropping your voice an octave to mimic him.  Then, all too sweetly you batted your lashes, “Aren’t you gonna wish me a Happy New Year?”

“You’re a brat.”

You only pouted, overdoing it as you puckered your bottom lip the farthest it could go, eyebrows raising unnecessarily high.  You were always so much more expressive than him, something that pulled laughs from deep within his belly if he wasn’t careful.  Earning a true Logan laugh had become the highest honor, it only ever happened in the solitude of your room when you’d pull the most ridiculous jokes out of your ass that made no sense whatsoever but left him hunched over gasping for air.  It didn’t help if he was sleep deprived either, which was usually the case when he’d show up to your room in the dead of the night.

No one knew about the Logan laugh, no one but you and you’d keep that like an oath.  He rarely let his guard down but you’d been able to coax him out from behind the walls he built.

Playing with the hair at his nape, you leaned in, whining “Am not!”

Logan hummed, his forehead pressing against yours.  “That so?”  To which you hummed back, lovesick in the eyes.

From the other room, the chorus of counting echoed against the walls, the remaining ten seconds of the current year before the slate would be wiped clean.  Logan never believed any of that shit, he’d complained about so called “new starts” and “resolutions”, how they were false hope.  And yet he’d attended the party anyway, because although he didn’t believe in any of it, you did.

“3…2…1…”

“Happy New Year, Logan.”  You tried again,  gently molding your lips to his.

Rather than recite the words back, he cradled your head in one hand, the other cupping your face while he deepened the kiss, something passionate and dizzying.  Something so unlike the animal the world made him out to be.

Truth be told, being an animal happened to just be a piece of him, a piece that you’d never ask him to downplay or rid himself of.  But in moments like these, that animal surrendered to a more domesticated side, submissive in some manner, in a means of absolute devotion to his person.

He’d been hard headed and mean, you couldn’t lie and say he’d never been harsh with you before he let you in, but the harder you tried the harder he found it to push you away.  He knew the moment you cracked him and burrowed into his skin, into the cavern of his ribs where his cold heart rested, would be the moment he realized it was the beginning of the end for him.  For as many wars as he had been in, the most violent had been love each and every time. 

Logan fought hard.

But he loved even harder.

Instead of reciting the words back to you, he’d offered you something far more endearing.  He pulled away ever so slightly, a strand of saliva still connecting you, nose nudging into yours as his thumb caressed the highest point of your cheek.  His eyes regarded you with such admiration, a spark in them only he permitted you to witness.

“I love you.”

—

Well into the early hours of New Year’s Day, when the party had died out and girls were wandering around like zombies with their heels hanging off their fingertips, you and Logan had snuck into the kitchen.  Just as everyone was wrapping up their festivities, you two had only just begun as you reached for some cold slices of pizza and sat atop the counter across from each other.

“Tired yet?”  Logan asked as you yawned, a knowing smirk on his face.

Releasing your hair from the confines of your perfectly imperfect hairstyle, you smiled lazily, confirming “Exhausted.  Just exhausted.”  

“Gettin’ old like me.”  He teased.

Again, you pouted, an exaggerated plump lip jutting out toward him as you hopped off the counter, collecting empty bottles on your way to throw out a pizza box.

“No one’s old like you.”  You quirk a brow.

“Ouch.”  He smiled, finishing off his beer and following your lead, collecting the remaining empty bottles.

You didn’t bother turning around to see him grinning but you knew by his tone, the unmistakable sound of his upturned mouth.  “Oh, you’re my old man and you know that.”  With a sigh, you tie off a garbage bag, hiking it over your shoulder before you feel the weight of it disappear, instead a gentle hand lingers on your waist.

“Watch it, princess.”  He warns, giving your hip a squeeze before swatting at your ass, passing you to take the garbage out.  And as your lovesick eyes hold him in your sight for as long as possible, he opens the door with a wink before stepping out into the cold.

In his absence you busied yourself with tidying up the rest of the kitchen, discarding party horns and kicking balloons out into the hall.  It was Storm’s idea to go all out this year, usually you’d settle for a slumber party to ring in the new year but she’d insisted that there was change to be had and a majority of the others agreed.  It wasn’t often that Charles would allow for loud, extravagant parties but with a few ground rules, everything came to life.

Now it appeared as if the house was empty although it was anything but as everyone had relocated upstairs to pass out for the night.  A few individuals lingered in the family room, snores faintly heard down the hall as you chuckled to yourself.

A pile of confetti on one of the counters caught your eye, underneath it appeared to be a collection of polaroids, the ones Rogue had been taking all night of everyone.  They had been temporarily forgotten amongst celebrations and toasting but come tomorrow they would showcase precious moments printed in time that everyone would treasure. 

One in particular pulled a gasp from you, the kind that made your heart ache in the best way possible.  Right before your eyes on glossy paper was the tender moment between you and Logan in your secluded corner, or what you had thought to have been secluded at the time.  You sat in his lap, your arms wrapped around his neck while he gazed up at you with adoration dripping from his expression.  Both of his large hands held your waist and it seemed you were talking his ear off.  The moment seemed so fragile, your cautious fingers holding it by the corner.  

Just as your eyes well up with unprecedented emotion, familiar lips press against your temple, strong arms wrapping around you from behind.  

“What do we have here?”  Logan murmurs into your skin, “Most sexy woman alive taking pity on the old man-“

“Shut up.”  You laugh wetly as you turn in his arms to push at his chest, still holding onto the photo like a delicate artifact.  At this rate it would have to be pried out of your cold, dead hands.

Logan’s brown eyes softened on you, his knuckles reaching up to brush your cheek before asking, “What’s wrong, bub?”  

What he failed to realize was that nothing had been wrong at all.  In fact, it was the total opposite.  For once everything had been exactly how it should be.  You were right where you should be.  Years of trying to fit in meant nothing to you when you fit so effortlessly right in his arms, right by his side, just with him.  

“Nothing.”  You whispered.  And meant it this time. 

[morningmask27]

acrylic on canvas 30x40 cm

it is very evil of Belladonna to not bite women when she probably has the entire lesbian community on their knees now

anyways, Dracula's Ex-Girlfriend was so fucking good and despite my hatred of drawing (let alone painting) humans it compelled me to create something.

I'm just going to leave a wall of commentary on the process under the cut because I need to chatter about all of this real quick

I chose this scene at the end because 1. it was super hard to find one still where Bella and Fay are both properly visible (yet somehow Fay's still facing the other direction) and 2. this scene just hits a bit different to me.

the discussion of smoking, a thing that's bad, but it being life, right as Bella drank that bartender dry made me think of a few things I experienced and while I personally will still keep on going against what Fay said here, I still got to see things in a somewhat different light I guess.

Fay's care is also so present here. Bella is self-destructing massively, but Fay still comforts her, even after she "fell back" on her bad habits (she never quit) and this hug just hit me personally quite a lot. the silent care, the "you're warm". I can't fully describe everything it makes me feel, but this scene was good.

on a more technical level. I had to take some creative liberties with the lighting and such because it was DARK and my painting skills aren't ready to make such minute details with extremely dark colors. It would get ugly and muddied, so I had to adapt. the harsh shading on Bella's face is less striking, but I don't know if I could make it better with my current skills.

This was also one of the first times I've really rendered a human face; Last time I "tried" it was 1. without a ref (unwise) and 2. when I was even worse at drawing humans and I ended up so mad at this painting that I Could Not Go Paint Again for a while because of how mad I was lol, so I'm honestly really impressed with how I managed to do this without making a huge mess.

At least until I got to add the blood. It still looks good now, but I had to fiddle a lot with the reds I used and the skintones to mitigate the damage of a few first strokes that got too grandiose.

I also decided that Fangs. I am a bit of a vampire researcher and seeing the different traits they get in different media is always fun and here the fangs seem a bit retractable, but Bella's a vampire and I am a sucker for fangs, so I had to include them.

my handwriting also didn't fail me too horribly, even if I had a few accidents and had to clean them up before I got this "clean" little text. I really don't have good brushes for very thin and precise strokes (nor the capacity to not tremble the entire time honestly)

This was honestly quite fun too. Four hours of listening to some music, having a weird moment with my mother on the phone and just painting. I did really not want to draw Bella's face at first and drew nearly everything else before I began, but once I did I got into the groove and it went fine, so I'm pleased with this.

[yorsgirl]

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬! 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐚! 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐬!

Ryomen Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: On the foremost, you should have seen the red flags in yourself. Dropping this charade at the right time was the right decision. Yet, one look at his crimson tinted eyes and you found yourself wearing your rose colored glasses.

Tropes: Taboo relationship, explicit smut

Warnings: profanity, possessive themes, explicit smut, praise, light degradation, fingering, fellatio+handjob, semi public, unprotected, rough, hair pulling, nipple play, choking, undertones of - angst, attachment issues, insecurities, mentions of neglect, no curse AU, adultery, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n.

Word count: 4.4k

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

A/N: forgive me, I was supposed to complete something else but instead this had me on a chokehold. Nothing can stop me from writing smut with my king. Hope you enjoy <3

Your reflection stared back at you.

Although the skilled work of your makeup artist showed itself on your rather decked up mien, the very chance at being delighted by your appearance eluded you.

Never did you think that you'd tolerate cheating in your marriage. Yet, here you were - celebrating the anniversary with your husband.

A black tie gala and when he exited the penthouse with you, anyone could say he was indeed looking forward to it. The customized blue Armani suit looked gorgeous upon him. Although you made sure to pass a compliment to him on your way out, the same treatment wasn’t returned.

Of course, he wouldn’t.

What else did you expect?

From the looks of it, tonight would and should mark one of the greatest days of both of your lives. However, neither of you had the guts to confront the elephant in the room. So, once again the charade would have to play. The cover pages of Forbes and Financial times would certainly make this night, a talk of the town. He must be busy with preparations of that, obviously he held little concern over your whereabouts. If not, the scandal wouldn't have stretched on this far.

On what basis did you even think that this relationship would anywhere be successful? Of course it wouldn’t when on the fore front it was always meant to end in shambles.

Besides, sparing him a subtle glance only minutes ago had you clear out of all your doubts. Leaving you to realize two facts: 1 - you wouldn't had been surprised if he would have confessed to have simply forgotten about tonight. 2 - the very same husband had been transfixed by a woman which wasn't you.

With the workaholic of a man he was, it wouldn't astound you if he said that he needed to be away to look into urgent matters. It wouldn't astound you one bit if he just needed his PA to accompany him to that urgent matter. As a good, ideal wife, what did you do? Obviously, leave the room. No matter how long did you stretch the lengths of your restraint, certain glances could never be unseen. Even then, the sharp glares bestowed upon you by everyone in the room rendered you breathless. Rumours seldom held the truth. This instance it did. Almost everyone knew about the scandal, considering the affair wasn't so discreet after all. Evidently, all those glares told you that you were being a nuisance there.

You glanced at the girl again; beautiful. Obviously, she was trying to impress someone. And from the looks of it, from the tiny smirk shot her way, she knew she was successful. Honestly, you can't blame her. He was quite the man with the flames burning in his crimson eyes and that charismatic smirk which even had you put on your rose tinted glasses.

With all the reasons screaming at your face to leave the main venue; you did.

Hence, now, standing afore the basin in the women's room - you could finally let yourself be free.

The black dress clung to your body tenaciously and the red diamond pendant resting on the juncture of your collarbones seemingly did little to cure your case. The jewellery was certainly a gift. Currently, you found the giver of the same gift in the same room as you.

You sharply craned your neck to the side, "What are you doing here?"

A languid smirk rested upon the curve of Sukuna's lips as he leaned against the door of the restroom. "I could ask the same, doll. What are you doing here?"

"Should not be your concern," Reverting your attention back to the mirror, you pushed some fringes of hair before your ear. "I can be wherever I want."

On cue he pushed himself from the door, sauntering over to you. In the limited lapse of time, you sure did make out how the door had been locked shut from inside. Sukuna towered over you, one hand of his rested beside yours on the counter; his breath fanned over your neck, instinctively you tightened your grip on the cool tile.

“Sure, you can doll.” He whispered near your ear, lifting his hand to push the same tendril of hair behind your ear. “However, to me it seemed, you were waiting for someone.”

“Certainly,” You affirmed, shooting a pointed look up at him. Although the close proximity, you refrained from letting your eyes wander over his frame clad in the black Zegna suit which fit him almost perfectly. “I was waiting when my husband will notice that I’ve left his side and come looking for me.” He grasped your arm, forcibly turning you around, though the hold was firm – the venomous pressure was nowhere to be found. “But that’s too much to ask from him, now.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow in mock surprise. “What a bastard of a husband to leave such a pretty thing like you all alone.”

“Sukuna-”

“Still I am here,” The undertone in his voice was too loud to ignore. Besides, did you really want to?

You reached up, straightening his crooked tie like a dutiful wife. “I didn’t call you here.”

“Now, now doll-” A Cheshire grin slipped into his lips, free arm looping around your waist as he pulled you close. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice how you looked at me there?”

It wasn’t clear cut lie; you did find your eyes wandering over to him even though you knew he would be up to no good. However, it was still funny. Funny how he took notice of it when all he seemed to be captivated by the other woman in the room. Did he think you wouldn’t find out or did he think that getting someone new would only make this charade all the more entertaining?

With the three of you present in the same only minutes ago, filled with family, friends, rivals and acquaintances, only a handful remained oblivious to the ongoing show. Now, with two of you gone, the few PR team members that lurked around the corner would certainly not pass up the opportunity to highlight this in the internet next day. Just how much they loved stirring the drama and how much the netizens loved consuming it.

You looked up at him from underneath your lashes, “Notice?” You scoffed with a bitter smile. “How laughable. The last time I checked you were rather pouring your attention on someone else, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Jealous?” He tipped his head forward, “And what if I was?”

“Nothing,” You let the strain of the situation reign in your two seconds of silence. “Enjoy your night. If you excuse me now-” You pinched your lips. “I have to call a friend to get me home, now.”

Like a chain reaction, it started.

First, Sukuna’s grasp on your waist tightened. The flicker of a vexation much akin to a match starting a forest fire, burnt in his eyes. “And who might this friend be? Someone I should be worried about?”

Second, with a soft graze of your thumb against his jaw, your question commenced. “Jealous?” A halt of five seconds settled down. Yet, you were more than eager to be the catalyst in this chemical reaction. “What if you should?”

Third, he threaded his fingers into your open hair; knotting the digits in your luscious strands. He tersely tugged them back, inciting a groan from you. Leaning down, his lips brushed against your own, “Then I just have to crush some pests for looking at my woman.”

Last, but certainly not the least – his lips locked onto yours.

Though the kiss was sudden, you found yourself fluttering your eyes shut as you delve into this passion only he can bring. You held his shoulder to bring the needed balance, the coarse fabric of his coat contrasted against your smooth palm. Sukuna angled your head to his comfort, nibbling on your bottom lip and once you give him access, he didn’t miss a second before pushing forth his warm tongue in your mouth. The spicy cologne of his mingled with the slight lime scent of the bathroom and with the way he worked on your mouth, your knees were weakening.

On the foremost, you knew you shouldn’t give in, you knew continuing a relationship built on lies would only end in shambles. Yet, when he pulled back – leaving you breathless for the first time tonight (and all the previous other nights), you again gazed into his red-tinted eyes. Ah! How stupid of you? Still, you found yourself putting on your rose coloured glasses.

“Aren’t you being too brave for your own good, doll? What gave you the fucking right to think of someone else when I am right here?” With delicate measures, he held your chin with his thumb and forefinger; sharp contrast to the, not so empty threat bespoken seconds ago. “Still, it wouldn’t stop me from teaching you a lesson, here and now.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Here and now?”

“Here and now.” With that, Sukuna’s lips crashed over yours once again.

His mouth ransacked over your own as he glided his hand over to your bottom and on your thighs to lift you up and place you over the countertop.  Now, on a levelled height with his, you didn’t hesitate from indulging more into the fiery exchange by tracing your manicured nails from his nape to his roseate strands. That surely did incite a groan from him and you could feel the smirk curving into your lips.

Despite the heated encounter, you were left pondering upon your thoughts. What was the point of staying in a marriage where the love given wasn’t the love reciprocated? However, with the way his moulded with yours so perfectly, all the guilty feelings just had to fade away.

Both of you parted once again, though Sukuna was a far from letting you take a moment’s rest. He latched onto your neck, leaving hot, open mouth kisses over your skin. A rather salacious moan erupted from you once he bit into the sensitive part of your skin. “Ah- you can’t do that.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want. You are mine.” The guttural growl of his voice near your ear sent a pulse to your core. He tipped your face up to meet his eyes, “Say it, love. Who do you belong to?”

The diabolical possessiveness of his had always been so disastrous... as well desirous. What was it with him that something so wrong just felt so right? Although you knew you shouldn't give in to him, that this shouldn't continue any longer. Needed to tell him that you couldn't bear the neglect anymore, you knew we were way past thee point of return. As if a scripted play, you found yourself acting again. “You. Only you.”

For a second, his frame went rigid. The next, he was pushing your back against the mirror, hoisting up the longer end of your dress till it decked around your hips and pressing his calloused palm over the soft fabric of your panties. Ah. He sure knew what he wanted tonight and he was going to have it.

While his pupil was dilated with desire, he didn’t fail from passing a knowing smirk when he felt the dampened spot on the garment. “With the way you are wet for me, no one would believe anything else.”

Oh god…

You feigned innocence, “Do you want anyone else to know?” That obviously didn’t end well. Without warning, Sukuna peeled off the cloth and pushed two of his digits inside your slick folds. “Nghh- Sukuna-”

“Everyone already knows, love.” He murmured, lips hovering over the shell of your ear. “Everyone knows that you are mine.”

He curved his fingers inside your cunt, velvet walls clamping around him in a tightness which had his cock straining against his briefs. Scissoring his way through, he stretched you out into a V. Even then, he was ruthless, letting his thumb press over your swollen clit as the juices of your arousal flowed out of your folds. The torturous onslaught over your cunt surely was too much to handle; the barbaric, loud sounds of your moans mixed with curses were like music to his ears. “Ah- Ahh Su-Sukuna… f-fuck.”

“Shh, darling,” He hushed you with a chaste kiss on your parted lips. “You don’t want an audience, do you? But if you do-” He pinched on your clit and involuntarily, did you elicit a loud squeal. One enough to have caught the ears of anyone who might be lingering in the corridors. “I am more than ready to make all of your dreams come true.”

“N-No, ahh- no-none of those are- nghh- my dr-dreams.” You managed to stumble out the few words in your lust drunk state, gripping into his biceps to restrain this torment. Although the treacherous smirk rested upon him, you knew that he was more than serious. Knew that if given the chance, he wouldn’t shy away from indulging you into exhibitionism. One act which repelled you so much. Your image was already tarnished enough among the socialists and elites. Another spot at that and you would be crossing the line of no return. No way were you letting that happen. Or so you thought.

Despite the repugnance, one glance at the man before you, one touch of his skin against yours, one praise of his – calling you his good girl, fell on your parched ears, you just might let him. To imagine it was more the arousing as much as it was perilligious. While on the base level, the act itself repelled you so much when the fleshed out play conjured before your eyes, it was rather difficult to deny it. However, that was a thought for another day.

Sukuna reached his free hand over to the neckline of your dress, pulling it down – stretching it, ruining the material beyond repair and that was the least of your concern. All you wanted was him. His hands, his mouth, his touch. All of him. The cool air of the night hit your nipples, making them stand erect as the man indulged in like a predacious beast attaining his meal after days. He squeezed and kneaded your breast, while latching onto the other as he swirled his tongue over your hardened bud.

With all the added stimulation over your body, you were sent over the end. Your walls twitched around his fingers and you bit into your lips to stop the traitorous sounds, “Su-Sukuna… I- I am-”

“Not yet.”

“H-Huh?” You buckled your hips against his fingers, arching your back for he just mercilessly lessened his pace.

“You won’t cum until I say so,” He leaned back up fully to his original height, knuckles brushing against your cheekbone before they drop to your hips. “Do you get it, love?”

You snapped your eyes shut, toe curling up as the protest marked itself on your features, “Su-Sukuna, it-its…”

“Won’t you do it for me, love? Won’t you please me?” It was so damn painful to momentarily halt your climax when all you wanted was to let go. Yet, like clockwork, you nodded. “There’s my good girl,”

Words were funny. How did he just managed to get the flutter out of your chest with a single praise?

Sukuna again increased the pace of his fingers inside your cunt, curving and coiling them up to his wish and just enough to provide you with the needed pleasure. “Not yet,” He murmured, brushing circles over your clit. “Not yet,” He twisted the digits inside, hitting your sweet spot causing you to sink your nails over the hardened tile. He stretched his finger to the maximum, observing how your cunt throbbed while sucking in air and then he grinned. “Now.”

And like the night the string holding your sanity snapped, this wasn’t so different.

You spasmed around his digits, the climax washing over you like a thunderous wave hitting the shore. Eyes squeezed shut and a trail of drool running down your mouth, certainly you were a sight for his sore eyes. He pulled out his fingers from inside you, wiping it clean with the tissues on the rack as you came down from your high. Your bare chest heaved up and down while you inhaled the copious amount of air.

After you did and once your breathing was levelled, you were more than eager to return the return by yourself. So, when you sank down to your knees – Sukuna liked it a lot. Liked it more when you unzipped his pants, letting his cock spring out free and God… he was huge. The sheer girth and length was enough to put you into a moment of stupor. However, you broke out of it, ejected your spit on your hand, pumping his shaft to lubricate the length.

“Fuck- love, that’s hot.”

“Just returning the favour,” Said so, you placed a soft kiss over his tip before delving your mouth on its length. The salty taste of precum fell over your tongue – lapping it up, you swirled your tongue over the glans penis. Keeping your eyes on him, you forced more of his length into your mouth. Christ. The sheer girth of it stretched your mouth in a painful way yet that wasn’t your concern. For you were too much preoccupied with the throaty moans of Sukuna.

“Shit- you’re so good, lo- ahh- fuc-fuck, just like that.” He wrapped his fingers around the loose ends of your hair, pulling them in a ponytail as he guided you on his length.

His satisfaction rang in your ears and it pushed you further to make this experience hell of a memorable one. After all, when will be the next time this would happen? Or will it happen again? The overthinking was pushed out of your brain when you gagged on his cock – eyes fluttering shut as a tear prickled your eye. Recoiling soon after, you started to bob your head in the same rhythmic manner which he liked while you pumped the rest of his member. The way he grunts out your name again causes your cunt to throb with anticipation. Oh, how much you just wanted him to fill you up to the brim.

Trails of drool run down your lips to your chin and you pull your mouth back from his cock. A string of spit connected your glistening mouth to the tip and just from the sight of it, Sukuna could have climaxed then and there. “Ah- Fuck, doll… you’re doing this on purpose.”

“Hmm?” You hummed, not bothering to respond to that. Drunk on insatiable lust must have the courage take over. Cause the next thing you did was, pump your fist over his drool-coated cock with such a rhythm that had him throwing back his back. “Shoot your cum in my mouth.”

Despite the burning ache in his abdomen added to the stimulation and the sight of you on your knees, he still managed to keep up his cocky attitude. “Feeling bold today, are we? I wonder why…”

“Sukuna-” The warning this time was cleared out in your voice. “You know I can just leave you here and you will have to take care of this by yourself. Want that?”

“No.”

How easy was that? You smirked, darting out your tongue as you licked over the tip and took him in your mouth again. Sucking and lapping at his cock, the wanton grunts of his certainly contended you. You eagerly indulge him, coaxing him into the needful climax. His cock twitched inside your mouth. You knew, he was close. He knew, he was close.

Only a second later, he was shooting his cum inside your mouth.

You knew better than to let the aftertaste rest on your tongue. So when the copious amount of liquids started to pour in your throat, you were quick to gulp it down like a good girl. Once done, with the treatment, you let out his flaccid cock with a pop. A short trail of his ecstasy ran down your lips and Sukuna reached down to wipe extra liquid off your mouth.

“Fuck it, love.” He quivered out almost breathless. “How do you manage to be so beautiful always?”

You shrugged in a non-committal manner. “I don’t know, you tell me. A lot many people don’t think so.”

On instance, he grasped your arm, pulling you up from the floor. Holding you via the hips, he didn’t waste a second before locking his lips with yours again. However, unlike the first two times, this time, it was a lot softer. A tender gesture shutting you up from all the self-depreciating words, you must have been telling yourself.

Parting a hair’s breadth away, he muttered, “You should know by now that I am not most people.”

You snickered with a sour smile, “I know.”

With that, this time it was you initiating the kiss. You pulled him closer, holding his collar, it felt almost humorous how he still had his clothes on while yours were sliding off your body. The last thing you wanted were words o affirmations about the situation. It’s a distraction. You told yourself. All of it to keep your mind off the true matter at hand; Veiling the truths of a neglectful husband who was repulsed by his wife. You didn’t keep the previous tender tempo, instead engaging in a lascivious dance with his tongue, beckoning back the lustful desire that garnered the both of you.

Of course, it worked.

Of course, the roughness of his actions returned.

Of course, he was feasting upon your mouth as he stepped up and your buttocks hit the counter again.

Only a second later, Sukuna was flipping you on your back – assisting you into his favourite position. Both of you stared back at the reflection of the erotogenic position with your ass lined up with his crotch. Both of you shared the same mind – you nodded and he followed up with shoving his cock in your needy folds. He hit you till the brim, fleshy walls clamping around his member tenaciously, coaxing him to build up another climax.

“Doll, ahh- fuck! You just keep g-getting better- nghh- everytime, ahh-” He groaned from above you, his pelvix smacking against your ass as he continued to fill you up and pull out, just till the tip and inside again. “Fuc-Fuck! Did no one fu-fuck you this time round?”

“N-No.”

“Good,” He struck a rough hand over your ass cheek. “This cunt’s fucking mine.”

He increased the pace of his thrusts, giving you just enough. Just how much you wanted. Needed. And only this experience would ever count. His cock hit till your cervix and you arched your back, tears running down your cheeks. You muffled your whiny screams by pressing your face down on the cool tile. Obviously, he didn’t like it. Not one bit. The next second, he was pulling your head up gripping onto your hair strands as he jerked you face to meet the mirror. Your makeup was barely intact with the eyeliner smudged and the lipstick smeared over.

“Sh-Shit, Sukuna… ahh- to-too fast! Nghh-“

“Keep your eyes on me as I fuck you like a good little slut,” Tugging both of your hands back, he used them as a leverage to keep you up.

Now, with your cheek pressed against the mirror, you were forced to witness this unmaking. To keep his words, you did keep your eyes on him – meeting the burning lust filled irises. The diamond neck around your neck swayed in the air as he kept on shoving in-and-out of you.

“Damn it, I knew this would look good on you.” He traced his fingers over the jewel before his hand clamped around your neck – restricting the air supply. He was ruthless in this session tonight and it showed. Was it due to the fact that you were wearing the jewellery he bought you that sparked the need to claim you as his once again? Or was it because you had been bolder in your statements than usual?  

Your lips parted as you tried to take in as much air as he would allow. Pulling you back, Sukuna let your back rest against his hard chest, still drilling into your hole. While you were on the brink of letting go with the pleasure, pushing you over the edge, he was mindful to keep his eyes trained on you. You. Not the reflection. The real you. He watched the rapid rise and fall of your chest as he deepened his thrusts. He watched how your eyes rolled back as he worked you into your second orgasm for the night. He watched how you gripped onto his elbow for support when you milked him dry.

An amalgam of emotions passed through his eyes while you were fixed on the daze of your after your climax. All of it flickering to none when he saw you gaining sense. And after a few thrusts, he finished himself inside you.

The next few minutes were a passage of silence. A silence which if used properly would clear up so much things between the two of you. Yet, with the room reeking of recent sex and the sheen of sweat covering both of your bodies, both of you knew this confrontation wouldn’t happen soon enough.

“What now?” You questioned, choosing to be the mature one amongst the two.

“What now?” You hummed in affirmation and Sukuna found himself, trying to conjure up the proper response for this situation.

Whoever it was, that said – more than the event, the aftermath mattered – were certainly wise. For you and Sukuna, the aftermath would never be fruitful. An unspoken fact both of you could agree upon. Yet, was it just too wrong to let this charade continue for a little long?

“What do you suggest?” He gazed down on you, a softer tone coating his words as he pushed off the matted hairs from your face. “What do you want to do?”

“Mhm, well-” You slightly rotated your neck towards him. “Its my anniversary, after all. I don’t want to be alone.”

“Oh, you won’t be alone,” He helped you get down from the counter, fixing the neckline of the dress to cover your skin as much as it would offer. “What say, want to get out of here?”

With a know-it-all smile and the thrill of peril daunting over, you answered him.

Meeting his lips for only a second. “Yes.”

___

CBN @/cybernetizens ◦ 3h ago

Wife of Satoru Gojo, have been spotted to leave company’s thirtieth anniversary with business rival Sukuna Ryomen in a scandalous outfit.

9.2k likes | 5.8k comments | 4.5k retweets

-

Buzz @/buzzfeed ◦ 5h ago

New image of Mrs. Gojo with Sukuna Ryomen in indecent outfit and appearance leaves netizens shocked!

2.2k likes | 1.7k comments | 0.6k retweets

-

GJNewz @/generaljapannewz ◦ 10h ago

Elitist and wife of Satoru Gojo spotted to have entered Hotel de Elysium with Sukuna Ryomen. Is this a public statement to announce divorce against husband?

5.6k likes | 2.1k comments | 1.3k retweets

[kyleemm2]

Art Supplies I'd Give to JJK Characters [Protagonist Edition]

My credentials: I make art and I can do what I want.

Yuji Itadori: mechanical pencil- easy to use, easy to manage, forgiving, but he always forgets to bring extra lead and erasers. He'd draw cutesy things and anime characters.

Megumi Fushiguro: charcoal pencils- intense and moody, somewhat forgiving, but you reach the end result faster, less rendering required in comparison to pencil, and much more artistic and professional-looking end piece. He'd make abstract pieces that no one understands but he doesn't care that no one understands.

Choso Kamo: acrylic markers- not always easy to get the hang of, but once you do, you’ll create pieces that are rich in color and texture. I feel like he'd like the big chunky Krink markers. You'd KNOW he'd draw stylized portraits of his brothers!

Nobara Kugisaki: gouache paint- trendy, fun, easy to use, always reliable. Despite their popularity, they're still a viable medium! I feel like she'd paint a lot of Studio Ghibli screenshots.

Satoru Gojo: sumi ink- a classic medium that is always fun to use that yields a classy, minimalistic look. He'd definitely draw Digimon characters in classic Japanese style.

Suguru Geto: willow charcoal- soft and also minimalist, easy to use but can get a little messy when not handled properly. He'd make a lot of soft landscapes and simple still lifes.

Maki Zenin: ink pens- can’t go wrong with ink pens, they’re versatile and deliver beautiful results when used properly. She'd probably draw portraits.

Toge Inumaki: spray paint- unassuming at first, but when in use, they cannot be ignored! He'd do pop art and graffiti-styled works.

Panda: finger paints- do this really need an explanation? Fun, easy to use, and can pack a punch when taken seriously. He'd make self-insert drawings, no matter what the project would be.

Yuta Okkotsu: collage art- when done right, collages can evoke intense visual appeal while also reducing waste. Given that his CT is mimicry, using pieces already produced seems fitting. He'd make abstract stuff that tells a story or expresses his feelings.

Utahime Iori: oil paint- arguably the classiest fine art medium around, requires patience and technique but yields the richest and more alluring end results. Landscapes, portraits, anything beautiful.

Shoko Ieri: photography- why make something out of art supplies when you can capture the beauty of the world in real time? It’s always good to snap a memorable photo before it’s too late. She'd photograph her friends and herself and anything she finds interesting.

Kento Nanami: dry pastels- while they tend to require some skill to produce quality pieces, the technique is worth it. And if you’re a fellow pastel fiend, you know how pricey Sennelier is. Nanami uses the high-quality shit. He'd do still life art of things in his home for the sake of convenience, but he'd probably want to do seascapes if he ever made it to Malaysia :c

lmk if u agree or disagree. i have an antagonist edition coming as well

[levemetal]

Hi hello, I rushed this and I cannot be arsed to properly render this. I have other things to draw, many of them. But also. I really put too much effort into the flat of this that I kinda burned myself out LMAO

ANYWAY CALAMITY/GHOST KING SHEN JIU DESIGN. Take it, cherish him like I would. I wanted to dress him up like the pretty princess he is <3 Plus, ghost kings a la tgcf gotta slay in all categories so here we go. I'll ramble more about the more coherent thoughts I have but you can tear ghost king SJ from my cold dead hands. ٩( ᐛ )و

His motivations more becoming a ghost king/calamity are fairly straightforward if you're familiar with Shen Jiu and all the funky workings of his mind. It is to be stronger than everybody else and attaining a place that cannot be taken from him cause he has the power for it. So that no one else can have any power over him either.

However this also means that he does not necessarily have any grand plans of what to do with that power. I imagine he'd be a recluse, living off and alone somewhere hardly getting involved in the affairs of the living and gods etc.

If he does, I imagine it might more be in the style of killing slavers and otherwise bad men. Maybe a sort of brothel workers protector, getting rid of the most problematic and horrible clients? Let your imagination wander!

For a title? I have no clue man, I am not good enough at words for this. Something with green or teal as the color and leaves. That's how far I got.

Now the juicy stuff, POWERS. Leaves. Leaves and fans is the tldr version. I imagine he'd use the qi-infused leaves as in canon, just far more deadlier (probably) and conjured rather than just reliant on leaves off trees in the vicinity. For a weapon, if available (read: SY is not possessing SJ's OG body, or Xiu Ya was not obtained) I think he should get to keep Xiu Ya, or otherwise a blood weapon shaped after it. Tho if I had to give him a blood weapon a la Hua Cheng's E'ming, it would be a fan. The blades on it would likely be shift on, both an edge to cut with and places for darts to fly out. Otherwise in terms of weapons I could see daggers very well too for SJ. They'd suit him, as he could get in and get a quick stab or just throw them from afar. With his fighting style that likely has a lot of the ruthless tactics of his youth incorporated, I think it would fit just like a battle fan.

Otherwise, I do see him being a capable shapeshifter, or some sort of abilities to stay in the shadows undetected. If he needs some sort of animal or communication/surveillance skill associated with him, I personally would pick ravens. Spiritually created ravens as a sort of spying network and surveillance method.

Another juicy detail could be cultivation method. Tgcf does mention that the ghosts still have their own form of cultivating their power. For example, He Xuan eats and absorbs the abilities of other ghosts, whereas Hua Cheng is mentioned to cultivate via slaughtering. The xianxia in tgcf is rather vague now that I have a few more danmei under my belt, and specifically Devil Venerable also wants to know has given me a looot of thoughts about some interesting ways to detail this if it is so desired for a setting. Do please keep in mind tho I haven't really researched cultivation and the wuxia/xianxia 101 worldbuilding yet so this may not make sense. Anywho:

For Shen Jiu in particular I'd find it interesting to give him his own form rather than just copying either Hua Cheng (most fitting imo) or He Xuan (bonus eating disorder included, hooray!). So here are some ideas I had in no particular order:

- Take the core melting aspect from mdzs and applying it to ghosts (sorta): dissolving and absorbing the cores/qi of cultivators and ghosts alike, thus claiming the power for his own.

- Blood. Think less vampire and more slaughter. The messier the kill essentially, bleed the victims dry and absorb the blood to transform it into qi. (Thank you returning Dragon Age brainrot)

- dvawtk's Path of Slaughter. It doesn't really fit SJ as it relies on constantly finding stronger opponents to fight and challenge, especially ones stronger than oneself and persevering against the odds. Not his personal choice but it would poetically fit him and his entire life pretty well.

That's all for now. If you made it till here.... have a gold star: ⭐️

[ruthytwoshakes]

after 30 hours we’re done!!!

I love little pootis so much, a fantastic series. If you haven’t seen it yet I really recommend it!! I bought one of the plushies for my little siblings for Christmas hehe.

I’ve been wanted to make some fanart for it for a while, but I wanted it to be special! Since it means too much to me and my family :3 so I tried my hand at digital painting again! Here’s my process:

First I started out with the sketch and putting in the values, (that image is the scene I was referencing.) and since I have absolutely no idea how perspective works I just guessed and went “eh good enough.” I also used my radical composition skills to give the whole thing some life! (Golden ratio my beloved.) I should have gotten some reference images, first mistake, but I was way too excited lol.

Then I duplicated the layer and started painting over my sketch using some painting and blending brushes. Unfortunately I forgot to capture any in-betweens of this process so it makes it a little hard to explain. But once I got my values down and my painting rendered to point I wanted it to be, we started coloring!

And oh god! This is why the painting took 30 hours! This was my first time painting using this method, so I was so not ready for the coloring part. I’m in a love-hate relationship with gradient maps so the coloring was mostly done with blending modes, I think I used the linear light mode?

After watching a stupid amount of videos by Marc Brunet I finally got it! Used just one overlay layer and adjusted my colors and values as needed for this one. Used a couple gradients and other techniques to get the snow and the water looking how I wanted, and we’re almost done!

My favorite step! Adding a bunch of textures and sparkly stuff! It’s not for everyone but I really like it. And congratulations we finished our first painting yippee! Thanks for reading :3

little pootis by @quazies

[robininthelabyrinth]

Subtle - ao3

Pairing: LQR/WRH Summary:

"Have you ever considered being subtle?" Wen Ruohan glanced sidelong at that-bastard-surnamed-Nie. "Are you suggesting that I'm not subtle?"

------------

"Have you ever considered being subtle?" 

Wen Ruohan glanced sidelong at that-bastard-surnamed-Nie. "Are you suggesting that I'm not subtle?" he asked, tone low and insidious, suggestive of possible violence should the answer not meet with his satisfaction – and rich with the expectation that it would not, rendering the subsequent clash inevitable.

There were times when he and the Nie sect leader were on good terms, even very good indeed, and times when they were not.

At the moment, they were most definitively not.

"I'm suggesting that you've never met the concept of subtle," that-bastard-surnamed-Nie said, having apparently not realized the current state of affairs. "You're passingly acquainted with its cousin discretion, maybe. But subtle?"

He snorted.

Like the damn pig he was.

"Maybe I don't require subtlety," Wen Ruohan said. "My Qishan Wen sect -"

"Most powerful in the world, sun in the sky above us all, all good things are yours, yes, yes, I know. Heard it all before. I'm not questioning your methods -"

He was definitely questioning.

"- I'm just curious to know if it's ever even crossed your mind to try something different. I mean, it's all a bit crude, isn’t it? All pillage and slaughter, the iron fist of tyranny, the marching army, submission or the sword…I mean, no one can doubt that it’s efficient, certainly. But one can hardly call it subtle."

Wen Ruohan scowled icily, even though most of his plans for conquest really did more or less boil down to that. "Don't pretend as if you know what subtlety is yourself. Your sect isn't exactly famous for it - rather the opposite."

That-bastard-surnamed-Nie was unmoved. 

"As you're always saying, I am not my sect," he said easily. "And you're not yours. Is that a no?"

"It most certainly is not a no."

"Hm." The bastard didn't believe him. "All right, then. Whatever you say."

Wen Ruohan seethed. 

He'd show him subtle, he vowed to himself. He could be subtle. He would be subtle. He'd be so damn subtle that the bastard wouldn't see the hit coming for a thousand li, and when he finally did, it'd strike him right where it hurt most. It would take away something he didn't even realize was his to lose.

Subtle. Hah!

Wen Ruohan could do subtle.

-

Lan Qiren received a letter.

This by itself was not terribly unusual. He was acting sect leader of a Great Sect - he received a frankly dizzying number of letters. He received letters of all sorts and shapes and sizes, though most of them contained complaints of one color or another. Well, complaints, and also bills.

He hated bills. It wasn’t even that he minded paying them, when deserved, but he still loathed them. He was good enough at mathematics, even though it was far from being his passion the way obscure musical arrangements or historical depictions of ethical debate were, but he was in no way naturally inclined towards the sort of skills required in managing the economic considerations of a sect as large as his Lan sect. Not to mention also accommodating the many subsidiary sects that expected to be able to use his sect as the lender of last resort in a crisis, no matter how inconvenient that made planning his own budget...in short, it was a nightmare.

One he was never going to wake from, it seemed, though he lived in (increasingly futile) hope.

This letter, therefore, was primarily notable in that it was not a complaint. Or a bill. Or a pressing problem Lan Qiren needed to solve. On the contrary, it contained a perfectly friendly, even mildly chatty, introduction, then a request for assistance in identifying a snippet of an unusual musical score that might or might not belong to the Lan sect, accompanied by reassurances that an answer was only needed whenever he had the time and only if he had the interest, and also including the snippet itself. It was by far the most enjoyable letter Lan Qiren had received all season, and it would have been all year if not for the very effusive thank you he'd received a few months back from one of his more troubled student's parents, deeply relieved at their son’s remarkable improvement. 

Still, even compared with that, this letter was a delight.

It was also unsigned.

Please respond at your convenience using the transfer array attached to the bottom of this letter, the letter said cheerfully, as if opening an unfamiliar array inside the sect’s gate wards wasn't a recipe for trouble at minimum, disaster at maximum. Not being an idiot, Lan Qiren promptly took the array to be examined by his sect's specialists, and he was even now waiting for their reply.

There was every chance that the letter was part of some sort of plot, Lan Qiren reminded himself diligently. His interest in musical arrangements was well known, and could therefore be targeted through a well-tailored appeal. The letter could even contain some sort of poison or curse aimed at crippling him, and through him his sect; such things were not unheard of. There was no point in giving it another thought until that gating question had been resolved. 

Only...he was giving it some thought.

Mostly about that music score, which itched in the back of his brain - he was pretty sure it was Lan sect in origin, although nothing out of their usual rotation of spell-songs. A private composition, perhaps, which meant thar the only way to identify it would be through a stylistic comparison with other examples -

You do not have time for this, Lan Qiren reminded himself. You are not helping until you know whether it is worthwhile to do so.

It would have been much easier if only the letter had been signed! Lan Qiren would have been more than happy to help if the requestor had been one of the smaller sects, or even a rogue cultivator with a little fame, just enough to be recognizable. To refuse to sign a name - any name - suggested either something to hide or a profound need for privacy, which one wouldn't have expected for something as measly as a few questions about music. It was suspicious!

It was music.

It was the most fun Lan Qiren had had in months, and he hadn't even started properly digging into it yet.

He liked research, liked music, liked helping people - in fact, the reason he was quite so suspicious of the letter was because it was exactly the sort of thing he liked most. At this stage in his life, Lan Qiren had long since accepted that there was no such thing as an unasked-for turn of luck, no silver lining without its accompanying cloud...

Still, it was hard to see what sort of plot could be advanced by an academic request regarding music. Maybe the requestor was simply too embarrassed to reveal their identity - one of the other musical cultivation sects, perhaps, that didn't want to admit to their ignorance. That would be quite reasonable, and under such a situation it would not be unreasonable for Lan Qiren to provide the asked-for aid. The Lan sect rules counseled prioritizing chivalry and graciousness, after all. He would be perfectly justified in diverting some of his limited time to visiting the library, perusing old volumes, even taking notes...

Lan Qiren sighed to himself.

"Teacher?"

He blinked, roused from his reverie, and found that it was a disciple, one he recognized: it was one of the apprentices to the specialists in the talismanic arts. He was holding the letter in his hands.

Lan Qiren felt an unaccustomed frisson of excitement. If the specialists had determined the letter to contain harmful substances, it would not be returned to him at all. There was still the possibility that it had been deemed to involve some sort of plot, but...

"What is the honorable masters’ conclusion?" he asked politely, trying to suppress his excitement.

"There appears to be nothing wrong with the letter, Teacher,” the disciple reported. “The transfer array at the back is a little unusual, but mostly for being so old fashioned - it was once a popular method for discrete correspondence, despite the strain and cost involved in using it. Later a method for detecting and even interfering with such messages was discovered and the use fell out of favor."

Lan Qiren hummed thoughtfully. He hadn’t heard of such a method; it must have been before his time, or something only of interest to people who studied obscure arrays and talismans. "What does it involve?"

"The array must be personally crafted by an expert that is familiar with the craft, and the sender must put in a considerable amount of spiritual energy in order to charge the array for use. Once charged, the recipient can use the array to send correspondence back to the sender until the spiritual energy in the array has been exhausted."

Lan Qiren's eyebrows arched despite himself. "The transfer is immediate?"

"Unfortunately not, Teacher. The spiritual energy travels through the air. Sending a messenger by sword, or even by horse, is likely more efficient."

"Only if you know where the recipient is," Lan Qiren said, reaching up to stroke his beard. "And of course spiritual energy is far more discreet than a messenger. I am unsurprised that it was once popular, whether for diplomatic missives or even spy-craft."

"Just so, Teacher. Unfortunately, the sect that discovered the countermeasures was Qishan Wen, so..."

Lan Qiren didn't grimace outright, though he was tempted. "Yes, I can see why the method's popularity waned."

The Wen sect had always been ambitious. There was the current Wen Ruohan, who was constantly scheming to expand his power and influence, and by historical accounts, prior generations had been no better and were quite likely worse. 

Still -

"I see why the array was included," Lan Qiren said. "It serves as both a method to ensure discretion and as an offer of payment. Please inform the elders that I intend to accept, and will offer my assistance with the question in exchange for commissioning the sender for another of these arrays for my own use."

The disciple looked surprised. "What for, Teacher? If it's not secure..."

"Security matters only when the contents are confidential," Lan Qiren explained. "Such an array would be invaluable when corresponding with someone with no fixed location. For instance, disciples out on a night hunt."

Or, for another example, a rogue cultivator family constantly on the move. Lan Qiren had long maintained a correspondence with Cangse Sanren, primarily through her determined efforts, but it had by necessity been largely one-sided to date. Even if he received a letter from her from Jiangnan, by the time it arrived and his reply composed, she might already be in Henan. He was only able to gather his thoughts and wait patiently for her next visit to the Cloud Recesses, or else count on luck to have them cross paths elsewhere. This array would not improve the speed of their interchanges, but it would give Lan Qiren the chance to write back, no matter where she was when he did so, and in return she could always send something if she happened to find herself in an urgent situation far away from any post.

His mood significantly improved, Lan Qiren dismissed the disciple and carried on with the paperwork he still had to complete. Diligence came first, pleasure only later - thus were good habits formed and maintained. 

But later...

Research on a matter of great interest to him, a valid excuse to spend time on it, and even the possibility of repairing an old regret and improving a friendship - really, Lan Qiren could not be more pleased with his mysterious correspondent, anonymous or not. He could even say that he'd formed a rather favorable impression of whoever it was, and perhaps even go so far as to hope this would not be the only letter they exchanged. Lan Qiren liked fellow scholars best of all, and he had painfully few friends; it would be nice to increase their number, even remotely.

He would write back with a preliminary response this evening, he decided, and take some time over the next few days to look through their library. It would not be inappropriate to show his correspondent some measure of his enthusiasm and sincerity...

-

Wen Ruohan felt a small twinge in his qi, signifying that a part of it had been consumed. It was not an inconsiderable amount - for a weaker cultivator, it might be exhausting, while even a stronger cultivator would notice the strain of the effort, though it wouldn't slow them down too much. For someone of Wen Ruohan’s caliber, it was of course not even worth mentioning. 

Lan Qiren had already responded to his last letter, it seemed.

Smiling faintly to himself, inadvertently terrifying the majority of his lieutenants currently attending to him, Wen Ruohan dismissed his audience and rose to return to his study, where he had set the receiving array. 

He had been the one to create the letter transportation array, back when he was much younger and his primary concern had been satisfying his little brother’s obsession with collecting trinkets, though one of his brothers had figured out the potential use of it for spycraft first and claimed it in his own name. Not that it did him much good – he was known to be stupid, the way the Wen clan regretfully sometimes tended to be when they weren’t ambitious or cunning enough to get themselves out of it – and so everyone had ascribed the original invention to whatever little sect he had just demolished. Wen Ruohan hadn’t very much cared back then, having not yet decided to jump into the race for the position of sect leader; later, when he decided it was time to start caring, he had simply invented a countermeasure and employed it to great effect.

As far as he could tell – and if he couldn’t, no one could – there were at the present moment in time only two such arrays currently in existence, both created by him: the one he used to contact Lan Qiren, and the one Lan Qiren used to write letters to his little rouge cultivator friend, Baoshan Sanren’s disciple.

Wen Ruohan naturally was able to read all of those as well, and of course he did. He’d found himself unexpectedly amused by her consistent teasing and Lan Qiren’s querulous and too-earnest responses. There was not a hint of romance there, as he’d initially expected to find, but there were some very funny and rather uncomplimentary asides about Jiang Fengmian that revealed an entirely unexpected layer of petty nastiness in Lan Qiren, which by itself would have made the whole business worthwhile.

Not that it wasn’t otherwise worthwhile.

Lan Qiren wrote to both of them, Cangse Sanren and (unknowingly) Wen Ruohan, but the letters he sent to Wen Ruohan were by far the more common.

In fact, Wen Ruohan had to admit that he was a little surprised at the alacrity of Lan Qiren's responses. Naturally he was well aware of how starved for company the other man was, how lonely, and indeed he had been counting on it to ensure that his plan would be a success. And it was a success, an astounding one - only a few months in, and Lao Nie was already complaining under his breath that Lan Qiren never seemed to have much time for him these days, always busy writing letters or doing research. It was only that he'd underestimated, well...

No, let him be blunt: he'd underestimated Lan Qiren’s genius. 

It was not much consolation that everyone else had apparently missed it as well. Wen Ruohan had picked his first few requests quite carefully, old Lan sect tunes that had been very briefly popular decades ago, but not popular enough or in rotation long enough to be included in the sect's regular canon or even recorded in their histories. He was baiting a trap for a Lan, after all; it wouldn't do to send Lan Qiren a problem he wouldn't be able to solve. He'd figured that the examples he'd picked would last him half a year or even more.

Lan Qiren had identified them all within a month.

Moreover, he'd explained the rationale of his deductions - comparing first underlying composition styles to identify the approximate time period, then sorting the whole era by idiosyncratic musical quirks, which was insane - and even offered some helpful suggestions on improvements to solving the mostly non-existent problems Wen Ruohan had been pretending to have. He specified 'mostly' because while he had indeed been pretending at the start, Lan Qiren's proposed solutions had been so effective that he'd actually started implementing some of them in various parts of his extensive domain. 

Most recently, he'd even taken to asking about real problems he was obligated as sect leader to solve, of which there were always a multitude, and in turn getting real answers. It was fantastic. He was resolving issues that his entire cadre of advisors had failed to even come up with ideas to tackle, and with remarkable swiftness. His entire sect was reconvinced all over again that he was a genius! Which of course he was, but in this instance it wasn't entirely due to him. Or rather it was, indirectly, but only in the sense that knowing how to properly utilize personnel was also a form of genius.

Lan Qiren had even somehow divined from Wen Ruohan’s manner of asking questions that his true interest was in arrays, not strictly music, and had modified his explanations accordingly, including more details regarding of the underlying spellcrafting and taking extra time to explain some of the more obscure music-only concepts. He hadn't figured out that his anonymous correspondent was Wen Ruohan, which was only reasonable, Wen Ruohan being these days more famous for his tyranny than his talent for arrays - which was actually a little annoying if he thought about it too long - but their correspondence had certainly become a great deal more fun ever since. It was nice to have his interests catered to, even interests that he had very nearly forgotten that he had.

Wen Ruohan might not have had much time for academia in the past few decades, but he had once been one of the most accomplished and recognized in his field, and like most academics, he loved his subject. He hadn't had a willing ear, as opposed to a terrified and inadvertently coerced one, for years upon years now, and in all truth he'd forgotten how enjoyable it could be to talk about cultivation simply for the sake of increasing his knowledge, rather than always considering it as a matter of power.

Not that he'd forgotten about power.

His plan to seduce Lan Qiren by proxy was working splendidly, and it wasn't as if he'd planned to start extracting secrets from the man until he'd built up at least a year or two of acquaintance. Nothing had changed there, other than the fact that Wen Ruohan was having an unexpectedly good time doing it. And solving problems for his sect in the meantime, which was always a plus - though of course he'd have to be careful there. He couldn't let the far too clever Lan Qiren have a chance to put together his recent correspondence with the Wen sect's recent successes. He would, too, given even the smallest little hint.

He was too clever not to.

Perhaps for the next set of letters Wen Ruohan would pick something a little more theoretical, more purely academic rather than practical. Maybe he could dig something up from his old notes, the ones he’d kept from back when he used to occupy his days with research and cultivation and experimenting with talismans and arrays. It'd been ages, long enough that he barely remembered it, but a little study should be enough to get him back into shape. And then he could get Lan Qiren to focus on that, which had no known connection to the Wen Ruohan of today...yes, that would do quite well.

It might even be fun.

Who would have expected that?

-

"I took your advice," Lao Nie said to Lan Qiren, who was just finishing pouring tea for them both.

"I wasn't aware I had given you advice," Lan Qiren said, then added, dryly, "Or that you ever listened when I did. The last time we met, we argued, did we not?"

"We did, we did," Lao Nie agreed, completely unswayed by any reasonable criticism, as was his fashion. "I'm not saying you're wrong that I've been acting a little atrociously with regard to Wen Ruohan, though I still don't plan to change anything -"

"That is functionally the same thing."

"I don't understand why you even care about him. No, don't say you don't; I don't see you getting involved in other sect leaders' relationships, do I?"

"Most sect leaders are not my friends, as you are, and they have not decided to start a liaison with the most powerful cultivator currently alive and then cheat on him – and not just once, but twice – "

"Now, we don't need to rehash all that," Lao Nie hastily interrupted. "By chance, it was to that argument which I was referring, in fact. You might recall that about halfway through you called me - what was it - it started with 'lumbering' -"

"A lumbering uncouth bull charging around a porcelain shop without the slightest sense of presence, wholly incapable of tact, discretion or subtlety?"

"...ouch. Somehow that's even worse than I remembered." Lao Nie rubbed his forehead, then shrugged it off. "Anyway, I then said I was totally capable of subtlety, and you said 'I'll believe it when I see it' -"

"To be precise, I said that you had hitherto not demonstrated any instances of such behavior to the best of my knowledge."

"Same thing. Anyway, I decided that I would try it out."

Lan Qiren frowned. "Try what out?"

"Being subtle. Anyway, I think it worked!"

"...congratulations." Lan Qiren sighed. "What exactly did you do?"

"As if I'd tell you the details-"

"You have no idea what exactly you did, do you."

"No, not as such. But it worked! Wen Ruohan is way too busy with whatever his current scheme is to be angry at me. Or angry enough to kill me, anyway; he’s still not exactly pleased."

Now it was Lan Qiren's turn to rub his temples. "Should I be worried? Or rather, should we all be concerned, given the end results of most of Wen Ruohan’s schemes?"

"You're such a pessimist." Lao Nie chuckled and picked up his teacup. "Maybe he's just picked up a hobby again...? A non-torture hobby, even. Surely he could find one of those."

Lan Qiren snorted disdainfully.

"Yeah, I don't think it's likely either," Lao Nie conceded. "I'll let you know as soon as I have some idea of what he's up to. Anyway, enough about me. Tell me more about you! Tell me about your new love interest -"

"It's not like that," Lan Qiren protested, but he had started smiling in a way that might open him up to criticism based on the Lan sect's rule against smiling foolishly. His ears had even gone a little pink! "We are only acquaintances at best, not even friends, much less that. I do not even know their name..."

"And yet you knew exactly who I was referring to, didn't you?" Lao Nie pointed out, and had the pleasure of seeing Lan Qiren blush and stutter out a half-hearted denial. "Qiren, really, even if you only get a new friend out of it, I couldn't be more pleased for you! But I'm telling you, at this point whoever it is? They’re just looking for excuses to write back."

"Nonsense. They have posed genuine problems in need of solving."

"No one has a territory with that many problems at once, Qiren, not even the Great Sects. Not even Wen Ruohan! They just want to keep talking."

Lan Qiren coughed. "Well, perhaps. It's no business of mine what their motives are, provided they do not cause harm...though I admit I have been enjoying receiving their letters. Even enjoying immensely."

"Oh, well, if it's enjoying immensely, then I suppose I can forgive you for forgetting about little old me -"

"Lao Nie!"

Lao Nie laughed. "Don't worry about it, Qiren. I really am glad for you. You should be immersing yourself in the joy of a new relationship -"

"I told you, it is not -"

"Not necessarily romantic," Lao Nie said, though if it wasn't romantic he'd eat his boots. Lan Qiren had never blushed over one of his letters, to be sure...though presumably it was the content that was the issue. Not that the contents here were standard sweettalk! What Lan Qiren found romantic in receiving an array based on a musical composition meant to clear murky water, Lao Nie had no idea, even if it was a composition of Lan Qiren's own making, based on something he’d written about one of his nephews.

Scholars. Who could understand them? Even Wen Ruohan had the same tendencies, deep down, and he'd been more warlord than scholar for as long as Lan Qiren had been alive.

Actually, sometimes Lao Nie did get a little worried about what Wen Ruohan was now cooking up. Whatever it was, it was making him smile - actually smile, rather than the usual dead eye smirks he typically favored - nearly as much as Lan Qiren was now, and knowing Wen Ruohan’s temperament, the cause could be anything from genocidal atrocity to a particularly good witticism. 

If only he could figure out a way to get Wen Ruohan to fall in love with somebody! Now that would solve all their problems - including, yes, the ones he'd created for himself though some concededly less-than-wise romantic decisions. Wen Ruohan had an obsessive personality: if he fell in love, really in love, he would move heaven and earth to win his lover's favor, and that would probably distract him from all that torture and world domination and such. 

Unfortunately, as far as Lao Nie could figure out, the only thing that Wen Ruohan was attracted to was power, either for himself or for his sect, and also being the first one to discover or exploit that power. Which was a hell of an ask. It wasn't as though Lao Nie could pull an underappreciated genius out from his sleeve to throw at Wen Ruohan...

Oh, well.

Whatever it was that Wen Ruohan was planning, they'd find a way to deal with it. 

In the meantime, he had Lan Qiren to tease. 

Such fun!

[gayaest]

heyo again:3 how r u? do you have other mutuals/people you look up to when its about art & disability representation? would love to know more artists who have their own disabled characters! or maybe someone you take inspiration from when drawing? (may be the style, or anything else!) that's all, have a good day:3

Hello, again! 🩷

I’ll be honest, I’m really terrible at talking and reaching out to other artists and mutuals, but I do have a few artists that I absolutely adore their works!

Saszor ( @saszor ) — another disabled artist who has AMAZING disabled oc’s and is one of the only artists i’ve seen that accurately portrays facial differences!

Caleb ( @littlestpersimmon / @/sethpuertoluna on Twitter) — An amazing autistic indigenous south-east asian artist! His work is always so gorgeous to look at and the composition work is phenomenal.

Prompto & Co ( @katetorias ) — an autistic system! Pri has some great artwork with a variety of different styles! Prin has drawn disabled people and mobility aids, and seeing people be open about their disorders always makes me happy to see!

PURIPRADO ( @/puripradoo on twitter ) — a Gyaru Gal who draws amazing gals, as well as wheelchair gals! Genuinely makes me so happy to see!

Dave ( @/benthicmidas on twitter ) — an autistic disabled artist. He draws great mobility aids and combines disability with fandom really well!

Sorrelkeys ( @/sorrelkeys on twitter ) — a great artist who works really well with color and their unique style! We talked in DM’s about a coffin-type wheelchair design! Super fun oc’s who are also disabled!

Miel ( @tarteaumiel ) — An autistic artist I greatly admire! Their character design skills are TOP TIER and they have an amazing and unique art style! Every time I see their art I get excited and inspired!

Incza ( @inioli ) — I’ve commissioned him before and he’s an amazing artist! I love their use of color and their rendering style, and the way they draw bodies, especially plus size! Their art reminds me of candy and sunshine!

Ei ( @heartboiled-egg ) — I really absolutely love the way this artist designs characters and outfits, it’s always so cohesive and inspired!

Love ( @hereloveblooms ) — This artist is GREAT! We’ve traded art a couple times and their work blows me away each time! I love their designs as well as their clean linework!

Lyon ( @lyokeke on twitter ) — I LOVE this artists style and line work. Their involvement of J-fashion into their works makes it extremely eye-catching and my personal favorite type of art!

Sasha ( @samairuart ) — I really adore this artists OC’s and incorporating their culture into every piece. The amazing outfits and rendering always blows me away and makes me want to zoom in and stare!

PokkiOkki ( @Okki_Happy on twitter) — this artists character design is GREAT! I love the way they draw body types, especially plus size designs. All their adoptables are AMAZING!

There are MANY many other artists I absolutely adore their works and designs, I just can’t find their socials right now 🌷

IF ANYONE HAS ANY OTHER DISABLED ARTISTS THEY KNOW, PLEASE COMMENT / SHARE !