#need... to... draw... something... but i dont... have the strength..

[microtyalm13]

everything about Gavriil feels suffocating.

how his presence alone can be almost overwhelming, how his massive body cages you everytime without a chance to escape. you wouldn't dare to try anyway, knowing that you don't even have a say against a creature of his caliber. he will find you. in your dreams, in your nightmares. in your room.

how he will be intense and vague about everything just for the sake of it; to confuse you further, to see the conflict of emotions in your eyes merge with arousal. eventually your hesitance turns into acceptance, a desperate need to feel his hands all over you. and he will be oh so grateful to fulfill that desire.

how his thick tongue pushes past your lips and into your mouth, reaching almost the back of your throat, relishing in the muffled little sounds you make. your drool mixed with his saliva drips down your chin, and your hazy eyes look up at him when he finally pulls away, giving you a second to breathe.

how his hips are slamming into you relentlessly, your wetness and lack of resistance allowing him to move almost effortlessly. forced to hold onto him for dear life instead of pushing away. all of your morals and principles are being tossed out of the window every single time he comes to you. he has you where he wants you, and will not stop until he feels like you can't take it anymore.

and how in the morning he vanishes away, leaving you guessing: was it just another wet dream? but the cold stickiness between your legs tells you more than you need to know.

[todayisafridaynight]

this writing shit hard as hell

[vzm]

to me i feel writing comes a lot more naturally to drawing, because it’s hard to tell somethings written poorly until you lift your hands then read it yourself, but with drawing you’re creating and seeing at the same time, and it kinda gets in your head, at least for me.

[sh1-n0bu]

✿ 𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙩 ✿

characters: self aware!acheron x isekai!gn!reader, slight dan heng x reader to the end

warnings: fluff, poor attempt at humor, consumption of alcohol, lying (from dan heng), brief appearance of playable characters, description of acheron test run, reader is isekaid into the hsr world and is just trying to live their life, reader is referred to as aeon of life and your excellency

notes: just had a shower thought and remembered acheron interaction from the cosmodessy event and BOOM! part 2 of dragon fic is on the work i swEAR PLS DONT EAT ME the divider is from @/rookthornesartistry

“hmm…”

what a tricky situation. acheron had been wandering through the dreams of penacony to find out about the truth of the oak family. or at least, finding some hint and cases that has been silenced by the family. but on the way…

“i seem to be lost”

yes, the amnesiac galaxy ranger had found herself lost once more. she had briefly agreed with the astral express to meet them later at the clockie statue of golden hour, but the poor woman was now wondering which way is which and which direction she should be heading towards. oh well, she’ll figure it out later. right now, she needed to know where she was or attempt to find a familiar face.

looking around herself, acheron could hear the faint sound of jazz playing further down one of the halls. there also seem to be other people there as she could make out laughter and murmuring of people alongside the scent of alcohol wafting through the air.

a bar, perhaps?

quietly, she makes her way to the end of the hall, opening the double doors and coming to what she guessed was a bar. it did indeed seem like it, though just maybe a bit smaller than the usual grand and bright neon sign filled ones at the golden hour. briefly, the woman takes a moment to look around, hoping to find a familiar face. there was a bartender behind the bar, a halovian mixing a drink. perhaps she could ask her—?

a familiar colored hair catches acheron’s attention just as she was about to make her way over to the bartender. there, far away from the crowd of people at one of the seats sat the aeon of life. their back turned to others, seemingly running away from attention as they hunch over their table. acheron had never personally met the aeon of life before but she had felt their warmth, heard some snippets about them through the trailblazer and during an odd battle she was forced to fight in and have seen glimpses of their visage through the screen that the trailblazer allowed her to.

when acheron was first teleported to some theme park of penacony, she wondered if someone had kidnapped her. but when the ranger tried to move herself, she had found it impossible. until she did. someone or something was controlling her body, making her draw her blade and fight, yet she found it hard to hate the puppeteer. it felt… warm. to the lone galaxy ranger, this odd puppeteer of hers gave her a warm feeling, like being gently cradled by the sun. gentle and kind as the puppeteer moves her around, muffled gasps of awe and words of admiration falling onto her ears. this puppeteer of hers’ voice sounded gentle, soothing her heart, filling the loneliness of her soul. as quickly as it came, it disappeared and she was back in her room at the reality of the hotel.

when she briefly mentioned of this incident when she met welt of the astral express, he simply smiled with a knowing expression. the older man had told her about the aeon of life — or at least their reborn mortal self — and how they would sometimes guide some people to help them solve their problem or to bless them with more strength. most of the times though, these people were pathstriders, he told her.

and now here she was, in the flesh, being able to see the aeon of life themself.

quietly, the ranger makes her way towards the hunched over aeon. they seem to have had some glasses of drinks, the ice in them melting inside the glass as they lay their head on their arms, one hand wrapped around the glass of their next drink.

meanwhile, you try to fight back some sleep. drowsiness falling over you due to all sorts of drinks you’ve consumed. though, most were alcohol free, they still managed to knock you down a peg. must be the secret of being penacony dreamscape drinks or something. or maybe it was just siobhan’s specialty. she seemed very skilled in the art of free mixing.

the faint sound of heels clacking catches your attention though, making you stop and take a moment to listen carefully. not so soon after, the sound stops right behind you, along with a faint presence behind your back. you try to play asleep, hoping the person would just buy the act and leave you alone. ever since you were isekaid into the star rail world, people have been clamoring for your attention left and right. you came to penacony with the express in hopes of blending within the bright lights and dazzling signs of the dream world for people to ignore you and give you some time to breathe.

though, the presence continues to stay. lingering just behind you.

gulping, remembering an iconic meme back from your world, you slowly get up from your laying position and turn your head around to see who it was.

“YAAGHH—!” you yelp out loud, nearly shrieking as you jump from your seat when you saw acheron just silently staring at you, a bit closer than what you would prefer. the woman blinks, eyeing you carefully as she takes in your appearance. meanwhile, you hold a hand over your heart to calm the rapid beating of it.

breathing in and out, you eventually manage to calm yourself down. keeping an awkward eye contact with the ranger, you reach out to your unfinished glass of drink, taking a long sip from it. all the while, acheron continues to hold this somewhat awkward stare down.

“a-acheron, what are you doing here? you scared the shit out of me” you say, now finally calm after that last gulp of your drink. the woman’s exposed purple eye widens slightly, as if she was surprised by the fact you knew her. ah right, you two haven’t officially met each other in the flesh. so of course it will come off as weird to the galaxy ranger.

“i appear to be lost, your excellency” she replies, noting the unusual hue of your eye. it had a ring of gold in it, making you look otherworldly. but in this life where people can easily travel from one world to the other, that wasn’t exactly a compliment enough to say that you looked beautiful.

right, you remembered now that acheron had a tendency to forget things very easily and she would continue to be amnesiac until she draws her blade.

“well… where do you need to go then?”

the two of you have made your way out of siobhan’s bar, out of the dreamscape reverie hotel and towards the golden hour as she had said. but first you made little detours in your walk, stopping a few memory zone memes that has become unstable — during the whole time, acheron had told you to stay behind her so you would be safe — taking your time to admire the scenery of the dreamscapes before you two finally made it to the golden hour. it was buzzing, bustling with people from all over the galaxy and street vendors raising their voices to catch someone’s attention.

seeing a floating ice cream at the other end of the street, acheron steps onto the road without looking.

“ache, watch out!” you quickly reach out, holding her hand and yanking her back to yourself as a speeding car nearly runs her over. warm. you felt warm to the touch, gentle in the way you handled her as if she was made of glass. tender, almost, like a lover would hug another to their heart. she liked the way you hugged her, even though it was one born out of protective instinct.

“are you okay?” you ask, squeezing her bicep gently to take her attention. acheron turns her head to look at you, nodding her head that she was fine. everyone would be fine if they were in your protection after all. warm, safely tucked into your loving embrace.

“ache” she spoke suddenly, taking your attention back to herself. “you called me ache, your excellency. do you like the nickname?” the ranger asks, having never received any nicknames from others. this was her first time, having lost everyone she was close to and being forced to walk a lonely road until she caught the gaze of nothingness itself. even if she did indeed had gained nicknames from others before, she had long forgotten them. so this newfound form of kinship in you, in being given something intimate to be referred to by someone, brought a feeling of joy to the lonely ranger.

“i mean… do you like it?” you ask, looking at her face if she would give away any indication that she disliked it. to which you saw nothing. only the faint smile growing on her face. you liked that look on her face. the brooding, sad, melancholic look that she usually wears never fitted her. but when she did that, had a small smile on her face with a face of contentment, it seemed to suit her much better.

“mhm” acheron simply nods, an odd feeling of childish glee in her heart at the thought of having earned an intimate nickname. not from just anyone, but from you — the aeon of life, the very first living being that came to existence and decided to bless other lifeless things into meaningful ones. the aeon of life whose love and care held no bounds, reaching all over galaxies and world — even to ones that were distant and lone — embracing them in your love and care.

acheron liked the nickname “ache”. a heron liked to enjoy her time beside you. with you.

holding hands, eating floating ice creams and magical popcorns, the two of your take your sweet time during your detour to the clockie statue in golden hour. some people stopped you to ask for your autograph or a selfie together. it had become a common thing for you to experience ever since you got isekaid into this world.

the way you stopped to laugh at acheron’s face, where she had undoubtedly made a mess when eating her newly favorite peach flavored ice cream, the way you took out a napkin, wiping away the mess from her lips in such a tender manner caught the attention of a certain bloodhound. gallagher watched, jealous and other unknown bitter feelings swirling inside him as he watches your “date” with acheron from a bit away. he didn’t understand why he was so jealous. he was already in your grace, having come home to you many times while the ranger hadn’t came home to you even once.

but coming home, being in your grace and going on dates with you and holding hands were two completely different things. maybe he should invite you to come over at siobhan’s bar more.

finally, the pair of you made it to the clockie statue. when nearing to your destination, you felt the metal clawed hand of acheron tightening around yours. she seemed sad over the fact she had to let you go. it was nice to be beside you. holding hands, making jokes, feeling of belonging and comfort easily sweeping over her in waves that she never felt before. and yet she had to let go now. the express members were looking at you two weirdly.

“it’s alright, ache. we’ll go on more walks together later, okay? you have my phone number after all. you can text me if you want” your soothing voice graces her ears, filling the empty void of her heart. the woman remembers now. you gave her your number on the way here.

nodding, very reluctantly, acheron’s hands lets go of yours. immediately she wanted to reach out to hold your hand again, to feel the warmth of the sun from your skin again. but she holds herself back, afraid that she might scare you off with how forward she may come off as.

“see you later!”

“aaah… hopefully, today won’t be filled with creepy stalkers or annoying fans running after me…” you groan out, slumped over on one of the seats at the theme park. there wasn’t much people around, even if there were, the people here were too immersed in the exhilarating experience of the theme park. this place really was the world of dreams, huh…

“good afternoon, everyone. this is the ipc broadcast, coming back with news from all over the galaxy” one of the radios that was placed around the theme park speaks up, the familiar voices of the two npc’s coming through to catch some gossip loving folks’ attention.

“yesterday, at the world of dreams penacony, many people have reported to seeing their excellency, the aeon of life, going on a date with a certain mysterious purple haired woman” oh fuck no. no more gossip regarding the most basic things you do. please, no more scandals.

“some reports have stated that their excellency was sighted holding hands and going around one of the most famous dreamscapes of penacony — the golden hour — in a seemingly intimate date with the woman” it wasn’t a date! besides, people were too damn invested into your life.

groaning and silently spewing curses under your breath, you tune out the rest of the news broadcast, instead focusing on the taste of soulglad in your hand. at least there weren’t anyone around to bother you today. or anyone to spook you by just silently standing behind you. breathing down your neck, quietly standing there as if waiting for you to slowly turn around with “it’s behind me, isn’t it?”.

wait that’s too specific.

“your excellen—“

“whAT THE FUCK?!” safe to say, you jumped out of your seat when the familiar soothing voice of dan heng reached your ears. some people around turned to give you a weird or concerned stare.

“dan heng?! the hell are you doing here? aren’t you supposed to be back at the express?” you choke out, thankfully having not thrown your glass of soulglad in your fright. in return, the quiet dragon only tilts his head slightly, a sheepish look on his face. he lowkey reminded you of a puppy with that face…

“i came here to check on the other express members. they weren’t replying to me in the group chat. and now—“

“— and now you’re lost” you finish for him, waiting, keeping an eye contact to see if he would deny or agree. to which he simply nodded his head as slight pink hue spread over his cheeks.

“alright where do you need to go?”

“the golden hour, clockie statue”

“alright, alright. jeez, what’s up with you guys always meeting up at the statue?”

“uhm… your excellency?”

“yeah?”

“can we… hold hands?”

tomorrow, another hit news was broadcasted by the ipc broadcast, speaking of how the aeon of life was spotted going on another date with a young, handsome man from the astral express.

[ravewing]

on the creation of animus magic

i was talking about the origins of animus magic with my discord recently and it made me want to share it here–

mind you, this is something that i had initially come up with around fourth or fifth grade, so it doesn't 100% comply with current canon and its a little shoddy but regardless i need to get it out of my system haha

waay way back in 2019 or so, i came up with a sort of 'origin story' that the dragons of pyrrhia told that explained where animus magic came from.

they believed that a sort of higher dragon spirit that was of simultaneously all and none of the tribes (my interpretation of them is the drawing at the beginning of this post) created the seven dragon tribes, and upon creating them, offered each tribe the power of animus magic.

both the rainwings and mudwings refused. the rainwings believed that such power would create an imbalance of harmony in the rainforest, and thus did not accept. the mudwings believed that if animus magic was wielded by a sib that wasn't a bigwings, then they might use it to overthrow the balanced system, and if a bigwings hatched with magic, then they might use it to steer their sibs in the wrong direction (again, imbalance and disruption of harmony).

the icewings, however, accepted the gift of animus magic, believing that with proper control and tradition, they could harness its power without falling to corruption. the icewings then offered this gift to the seawings, who accepted it.

the sandwings accepted the gift of animus magic from the high dragon spirit as well.

the skywings were very hesitant from the beginning. even though it was offered to them, they never gave a clear answer; many skywings believed that their raw power and physical might were enough to best the other tribes, and that animus magic was a shortcut that undermined their strength. still, because they did not explicitly deny, they still received magic– though it was quickly stamped out.

the nightwings, on the other hand, were not as patient as the other tribes. their thirst for knowledge and power was unquenched, and they sought to claim animus magic before it was even offered to them. they attempted to steal the magic directly from the claws of the high dragon spirit. it saw the actions of the nightwings as dishonorable, and as a result, they were left to pursue other forms of power— namely prophecy and mind-reading.

some dragons believe this origin story to heart, and they passed it down through generations as the definitive truth of where animus magic came from and why certain tribes have it while others dont. others, however, view the story as more metaphorical– to them, the higher dragon spirit and the tale of the tribes’ choices are more like allegories that are meant to teach younger dragonets a lesson about not being greedy or something idk.

anyhow this might be stupid or it might be revolutionary but if you guys like it then i might make some art related to this 'au' :)

[2knightt]

Hiiii! Can you do the outsiders gang with an s/o who models I feel like that would be interesting :)

↳but i’m into it, i’m into it.₊˚✧

➬ the gang x model!fem!reader

a/n;i love famous reader so much omfg. also, i love using chase atlantic lyrics for my titles. dont chase men, chase atlantic everyone.

Johnny Cade ;

believes that you are the most BEAUTIFUL person to walk the planet.

STRONGLY BELIEVES THAT.

probably thinks you’re too good for him.

PLEASE TELL HIM HE’S ENOUGH FOR YOU.

take him too your shoots and he will be blushing the whole time.

if you wear something that’s flattering to your body shape, he will explode right then and there.

“how do i look? should i fix my hair?”

“you look perfect.”

“you think?”

“…mhm.”

the gang seen you on a magazine cover and started freaking the fuck out.

“HOLY SHIT JOHNNY ISN’T THAT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?”

“WOAHHH!”

“jesus…does she have a sister?”

“guys please stop.”

cuts out your magazine covers/photo shoot pictures and keeps them in his jean jacket pocket.

not in a weird way, just in a way that when he’s sad and you aren’t around he can remind himself on how lucky he can really be.

Dallas Winston ;

oh my god he never shuts up about how he got the hottest model ever.

“yeah she’s pretty n all but, my girlfriends a model so.”

“that’s so cool that your chick is…like that! but mines a model, so, she’s just better.”

buys steals all your magazines/any photo shoot you do.

any guy thats talks about you in way dallas doesn’t like, gets knocked out.

“i’d hit that.”

“yeah?”

“yea—”

dead./j

no but he would pull all his strength in that punch.

the gang thought he kidnapped you because no way in hell a pretty girl like you would go after dallas winston.

“y/n, blink twice if you’re kidnapped.”

“raise your hand if you need help, dude.”

“guys, what the fuck is wrong with you?”

you’re legit, all he thinks about.

he’s so whipped for a model girlfriend, if you asked him to jump he’d ask how high.

genuinely believes you’re an angel, will NOT tell you that to your face though.

Ponyboy Curtis ;

he gets so nervous around you omfg.

his palms be sweating n shit, stuttering and everything.

“he-hey y/n.”

“oh, hey pony!”

uses his favourite photo shoot of yours as a book mark. i can feel it in me bones.

he giggles and kicks his feet when he looks at that bookmark btw

draws you?? i feel like that’s his favourite pass time.

IF HE HAS TO DESCRIBE A STORY IN ENGLISH HE WRITES ABOUT HOW HE MET YOU OMFG AND THE WAY HE’D DESCRIBE YOU IN THE ESSAY??/?!:;&

he’d be so sweet with his words when he talks about you. i cant i love him so much

the gang is lowkey jealous that the youngest one out of all of them pulled a model.

“hey, don’t you model?”

“yeah!”

“what.”

“how did ponyboy get a date with you?”

“…are you guys serious? am i that ugly to you guys?”

Sodapop Curtis ;

POWER COUPLE OH MY GOD I CAN’T.

you guys walking in the street together probably makes people pass out.

literally nobody was shocked that you guys started dating.

the prettiest girl for the prettiest boy, it was bound to happen, c’mon.

he probably got into modeling because of you.

OH MY GOD IMAGINE DOING A PHOTO SHOOT WITH HIM???

he asks for his favourite picture of you two from that shoot to be printed out larger for him so he can hang it in his room.

like dallas, he will punch a guy for you.

“she’s hot.”

“she has a boyfriend.”

“so?”

call 911 cause that guys gonna need it in a minute!

showed steve a picture of you before he introduced you to the gang.

“oh my god soda. why are you dating a literal model?”

“why not?”

“but what else did i expect, you get girls daily.”

Darry Curtis ;

honestly, he couldn’t care less about what you do for work.

if it brings in money, it brings in money.

but the gang sure as hell does!

“YO ISN’T THAT Y/N L/N?!”

“THE MODEL?”

“yeah? how do you guys know her?”

“HOW DO YOU KNOW HER?”

“she’s my girlfriend, soda. that’s why i brought her here.”

“WHAT??”

i’d be lying if i said darry didn’t carry around a head shot of you in his wallet.

he doesn’t brag, but when the chance to talk about you comes, he takes the chance.

“good for her. huh? oh—my girlfriend models. pretty popular.”

when he sees a magazine with you in it for sale, darry snatches it so fast.

compliments you after he seen it.

“i like your most recent shoot, the makeup suits you.”

“you think, darry?”

Steve Randle ;

rocked the whole world when you guys started dating.

DOESN’T SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT YOU.

“that’s so tuff soda, but y/n actually said—”

“nobody cares steve.”

“shut up and let me tell you what MY GIRLFRIEND said.”

STEVE HAS A PICTURE OF YOU TAPPED ON THE INSIDE OF THE TOP OF HIS TOOL BOX.

takes you on dates 24/7 just to show you off.

sometimes he lets go of your hand to see if anyone would flirt with you so he can punch them.

gang thought he held you hostage when you started dating ngl.

“you can do so much better, y/n.”

“dallas, shut the fuck up.”

“i’m just sayin’.”

“i will knock you out.”

Two-bit Matthews ;

HE’S SO WHIPPED FOR YOU IT’S DISGUSTING.

you have him giggling n shit.

his room is filled to the brim with photos of you.

not in a weird way, he just thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous.

tells you cheesy pickup lines, all the time.

“are you from Tennessee? cause you’re the only TEN I SEE! get it?”

would start a fan club for you if you asked nice enough.

introducing you to the gang was earth shattering for them.

“how??”

“what do you mean, ‘how?’”

“how did you pull her?”

“I PULLED HER WITH MY GOOD LOOKS AND CHARM, STEVE.”

“you’re so funny, two-bit.”

“like you falling flat on your fucking face yesterday?”

“YOU SAID YOU WOULDN’T TALK ABOUT THAT.”

may 24th, 2023. 11:30PM.

tag-list ;

@diorgirl444, @typereader 🧍‍♂️

[lxndonorris]

racing surprise for Lando - Lando Norris (SFS24)

fem!reader x Lando Norris Theme: Smut (you've been warned) in the midst of pre-season testing, Mclaren invited you to surprise Lando x word count: 2710+ taglist: @game-set-canet another edition to the suit fitting saga 2024 (SFS24). Quite similar but I hope you like the added twist. Oh and I needed that picture so dont blame me. Next one will hopefully be este, and if you have any request, for SFS24, testing or simply something else, dont be shy and hit me up!

The air crackles with anticipation as the new season of Formula 1 looms on the horizon, heralding a fresh chapter in Lando Norris's illustrious career as a professional racing driver. With the promise of new gear, a state-of-the-art racing suit, a meticulously crafted helmet, and a gleaming Mclaren race car awaiting him, excitement pulses through his veins like the roar of an engine.

Amidst the flurry of activity in the Mclaren garage, you stand, a silent observer disguised as one of the team members. Dressed in the team's iconic orange shirt, dark pants, a cap, and sporting a headset, you blend seamlessly into the backdrop, your heart aflutter with anticipation as you await Lando's arrival.

He initially invited you himself to join him here, but you had to decline. Unbeknownst to him, his team has already reached out to you, preparing a surprise for your boyfriend. 

And then, like a whirlwind of energy and charisma, he enters the scene. Clad in his new racing suit, adorned with sponsor logos, he cuts a stroking figure. The fabric hugs his form in all the right places, accentuating his athletic build with precision and care. His curly locks framed his face, adding a touch of boyish charm to his rugged allure.

As Lando moves through the garage, his presence commands attention. There is confidence in his stride, a swagger in his step that speaks volumes about his self-assurance. He greets everyone with a warm smile and a handshake; his enthusiasm infectious. There is a genuine camaraderie between them, a sense of unity forged by their shared passion for racing.

With the assistance of two friendly mechanics who shield you from view, you watch as Lando prepares for his testing session. The air is thick with excitement and tension, a tangible buzz of anticipation that electrifies the atmosphere. The scent of his cologne lingers in the air, a subtle reminder of his proximity that sends shivers down your spine.

Each step Lando takes seems to echo purpose, his eyes alight with a belnd of determination and curiosity.

You watch from your vantage point, hidden in plain sight among the team members. As a conversation turns to the upcoming training session, Lando's demeanor shifts slightly. A curious, shy smile played on his lips as he listens closely. With a hand on his hip, he leans in slightly, his posture relaxed yet attentive.

There is a quiet determination in his gaze, a hunger to extract every ounce of potential from the testing session. He understands the importance of these moments, recognizing them as opportunities to fine-tune his skills and familiarize himself with the nuances of the new car.

You can't help but admire the way the fabric hugs his body tightly, emphasizing the curves of his backside and the strength of his arms. His movements are fluid and purposeful, each gesture imbued with quiet confidence.

With each glance, your eyes trace the lines of his suit, lingering on the subtle details that hint at the layers beneath. You know that beneath the sleek exterior lies a network of tight undergarments—fireproofs designed to protect him.

This knowledge adds an extra layer of allure to his already magnetic presence, heightening the intensity of your admiration.

As the conversation draws to a close, Lando offers a grateful nod to his mechanics. With a sense of purpose, he turns his attention toward the track, eager to put their plans into action and unleash the full extent of his talents.

With practiced ease, Lando slips into the remaining racing gear—his gloves and a tight balaclava—each movement deliberate and precise. The helmet, adorned with beautiful colors and logos, completes his ensemble, its glossy surface reflecting the glow of excitement in his eyes.

With a playful twirl, he settles into the driver's seat, his grin widening as he prepares to start testing. With a loud roar, the engine comes to life, and slowly but steadily, he makes his way out of the garage. Your stomach tightens in a mixture of anticipation and pride.

Through the crackle of the radio, his voice rings out, a symphony of exhilaration as he tackles each corner with precision and finesse. You listen intently, your heart swelling with joy as he pushes the limits of his Mclaren. You know he is so happy to be back, and you can actually see him smiling when you close your eyes. His voice is a little rougher, yet it carries his joy and passion through the radio.

Once his session is over, he returns to the garage. As Lando emerges from the cockpit of his Mclaren, he lets out a jubilant cheer with a triumphant flex of his arms. Shaking your head, you can't believe him actually doing that. Licking your lips, you still can't tear your eyes away from his arse, filling his suit fully.

The testing had been a success, and he surpassed all expectations. Running a hand across his chest, he can't help but revel in the rush of adrenaline that still courses through his veins. The fabric of his racing suit clings to him, damp with sweat from the intensity of the session—a sensational sight that you missed during the winter break.

In one swift movement, he reaches up to remove his helmet and balaclava, revealing a mop of tousled curls and a flushed complexion beneath. His lips part slightly with a satsified smirk, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes as he licks his lips, sending shivers down your spine. He looks so happy and excited, and you smile seeing him like that.

As he moves through the garage, shaking hands with his team members, he can't contain his joy. His tongue darts out playfully, a gesture of exuberance that shows his satisfaction with the achievements so far.

Lando chats with a few mechanics for a while, and you can tell the residual excitement from the testing session continues to surge through his veins, pulsating with every beat of his heart. He keeps stroking his chest, touching his arms, and subconsciously, he touches himself through his suit—just barely, yet it catches your attention. 

It is as if the adrenaline of the track has infused his very being, filling him with an exhilarating energy that seems to amplify with each passing moment.

Entranced by his every move, the sound of his voice, and his cologne's scent still hovering all around you, you miss the opportunity to reveal yourself—Lando has already left for his private quarters.

Leaving your headset and cap behind, you rush after him and spot him strolling through the paddock. Unable to tear your eyes away from him, captivated by the effortless grace with which he moved, you follow him. Every step seems to exude confidence, joy, and self-confidence.

As he runs a hand through his messy curls, you can't help but notice the way his hair fell in disarray, framing his face in a way that is both endearing and alluring. There is a rawness to his appearance—a sense of vulnerability—that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

And then, as if sensing your gaze, he runs a hand across his chest, a subtle gesture that speaks volumes about the excitement still running through his body. You can almost feel the electric energy radiating off him, a tangible reminder of the thrill of driving an F1 car.

In this moment, you are struck by the sheer magnetism of his presence, even though you're just looking at his beautiful back. And as he disappears into his quarters, leaving you to ponder the whirlwind of emitions he had stirred within you, you can't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration.

As you knock on his door, a nervous anticipation grips you, your heart pounding with uncertainty—how is he going to react?

"Coming." Lando's voice echoes through the door before it swings open, revealing your boyfriend standing right in front of you. With an almost shocked expression, your breath catches in your throat.

"Y/N?" He asks, and in an instant, his entire face lit up with a radiant smile that reaches his eyes, filling you with warmth and joy. 

"Hi." You smile shyly, your face flushing with heat. 

Without hesitation, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his arms enveloping you closely. You melt into him, running your hands across his firm back.

"What are you doing here?" Lando smiles, separating himself just enough for his face to be mere inches away from yours. He places a hand on your cheek, tracing your skin with his fingertips.

"Surprising you." You motion for a few Mclaren team members to film the two of you from afar. 

Both of you turn your heads and wave toward the camera. 

"They offered to get me here; we just needed a few clips for their channel." You shrug, and he nods in agreement and curiousity.

"This is great," he leans into you, kissing you gently. You lock eyes with him for what feels like an eternity.

The film crew gives you a thumbs up, telling you that it's now time for some alone time. 

As Lando welcomes you into his private quarters, a rush of excitement surges through you, mingling with the lingering traces of adrenaline from his testing session. Your gaze is drawn irresistibly to the contours of his chest, the fabric of his racing suit accentuating every curve and sinew.

He meets your gaze with a knowing smile, a spark of amusement dancing in his eyes as he senses the admiration and desire in your gaze. There is confidence in his demeanor, a quiet assurance that speaks of his comfort in his own skin.

"So, how was I?" With a playful grin, he steps closer, closing the distance between you until the warmth of his presence envelops you.

"Amazing." You lift your chin slightly, meeting his confidence with your own. "And you look the part too." Smirking, you lick your lips.

Without a word, he takes your hand and guides it to the fabric of his suit, allowing you to feel the sleek material beneath your fingertips.

"I know how much you like this on me," Lando breathes, locking his eyes with your own. However, you're unable to withstand his burning gaze and lower your eyes, following the movements of your hands instead.

As your hand traces the lines of his chest and arms, you can't help but marvel at the strength and resilience that lie beneath the surface. The fabric is cool to the touch, yet it seems to hum with the energy of the track, a tangible reminder of the passion and dedication that fuel his every movement.

"This feels so good." You breathe deeply while you keep stroking his chest, feeling his biceps, and watch his chest move with every breath he takes, eliciting a low rumble of pleasure deep down his throat.

"Fuck," Lando can't hold back a low moan, his hand now following yours closely, his body yearning for so much more. He leans his head back, embracing both of your hands now on his chest.

You know how much he loves to be teased, touched, and stroked. Effortlessly, you push all of his buttons and his most sensitive spots—his nipples, pecs, arms, and most importantly, his member filling his suit.

"Good." You whisper, leaning in to him, tracing the outlines of his stubble just above his lips. A shiver races down your spine, the rough texture of his beard contrasting with the softness of your touch. There is something undeniably alluring about the way his beard frames his lips, adding a touch of raw sensuality to his appearance. 

With each passing moment, the desire to feel the roughness of his stubble against your skin grows stronger—a primal urge that threatens to consume you completely. You lean in, brushing your lips against his in a tender caress. The sensation of his beard against your skin sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

With your hand on his crotch, he moans softly against your lips. Lost in the heat of the moment, you surrender yourself to the heady rush of emotions. Your lips meet in a fervent kiss, craving his delicious taste.

"Y/N." Lando murmurs, his hands now steady on your waist, holding you close.

"Care to give me a show?" You bite his lower lip teasingly, causing him to chuckle. "I want to see all of you in that." Tugging at the zipper of his racing suit, you stroke him firmer, encouraging him to show off.

"Of course." He giggles, and you settle onto the sofa, anticipation tingling in the air, thick with the electricity of the moment. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, Lando takes center stage, spreading your legs to make some space. His movements are fluid and confident as he begins his private show.

With each flex of his muscles, his form seems to come alive, the contours of his body highlighted by the sleek fabric of his racing suit. He lets you feel his muscles tense, letting out more guttural growls.

"Very good." You smile, and with a playful smirk dancing on his lips, he turns around, giving you a tantalizing glimpse of his firm back and arse. He bends to show off his butt even more, much to your amusement. 

And then, with a sudden burst of energy, he begins to dance, his movements a mesmerizing combination of grace and athleticism. His hips sway to an invisible rhythm, and his body moves with a natural ease that shows off his innate charisma and confidence.

As he twirls and turns, the fabric of his suit seems to come alive as well, clinging to his form as he moves with effortless grace. With a slow and deliberate motion, he reaches for the zipper, his fingers tracing the line with teasing slowness.

As Lando slowly unzips his suit, his eyes never leave yours; their intensity like a flame igniting the air between you. His gaze is electric, a silnt invitation that sends shivers down your entire back. Hidden beneath his beautiful eyes lies hunger—a raw desire that mirrors the heat pulsating through your veins.

With each inch of fabric that melts away, inch by inch, he reveals the tight garments—a glimpse of the tight fireproofs. Easily, he slips out of the upper half of his suit, giving you a good look at his chest. His defined muscles barely conceiled, he flexes again, straining the fabric even more. 

Lando closes the distance between you until you feel the warmth of his body radiating against your skin. His gaze is never wavering, pulling you so much closer.

"Fuck." You reach for his chest, tracing the tangible outlines of his abs, as he licks his lips. With the sleeves of his suit dangling down his waist, he stands before you, his form outlined against the soft glow of the room, a vision of strength and sensuality that takes your breath away.

In that moment, as you drink in the sight of him, you know you want him. 

You motion for him to sit down right next to you, and right away, you lean in, kissing him passionately.

Lando embraces your body against his, and at the same time, your hand slips underneath his suit. His skin is warm and tight; all of the tension is showing its effect on his body.

"Mhmmm." He purrs into your mouth, one of his hands firmly on his length, bulging against his clothes.

In one swift motion, you manage to get into his pants and pull his member out of his clothes, causing him to moan in agreement.

"That would be so good, Y/N." Fully aware of what you're about to do, you keep kissing him while simultaneously running your hand up and down his length.

With every breath he takes, Lando lets out guttural groans before leaning his head back against the sofa cushions.

Looking into his eyes, you bend down and take him into your mouth. 

"That's what I meant." He swallows hard, running a hand through your hair.

Together, you easily catch up to each other's rhythm, moving as one. His husky, rough voice echoes through your mind as more and more drops of his taste cover your tongue. 

Then, his body gets stiff and rigid, and he holds his breath before letting go of all this tension, pressure, and desire. It feels so good. Letting out a long, breathless moan, he relaxes quickly, leaning back even more. You let go of him, licking your lips to savor the taste.

Lando fondles with himself for a while while you catch your breath.

"This was so good." You sigh deeply before a chuckle leaves your wet lips. He smirks, leans in, and kisses you.

"Thank you for being here." Lando rubs his nose against yours gently.

[soni-dragon]

Eye of the Pheonix is actually one of the best merlin episodes because:

merlin and Gwen besties shenanigans; “what’s he actually thinking about” “you”

cold open to the most tender merthur scene

Merlin sleeping outside all knight for arthur

Hiccuping scene and arthur getting so annoyed

“But the perilous lands are… perilous”

“The task is meant to be completed alone and unaided” the start of the best continuing joke of all time

Putting the rest under a cut cause it’s long

Little morgwen moment in the market i love (one of the last we get….)

Cute arthur and gwen scene! Hehe

This is just the shipping episode of all time everyone wins

“You’ll need help” and the first thing merlin does is go find gwaine

smiles “hello, gwaine” “ah, merlin :)”

Immediately puts an arm around merlin

Throws merlin off a roof. this is what merwaine is all about :)

Gwaine is still Gwaine and not whatever the writers did to him after becoming a knight

Bridge guy (Grettir) is great and Arthur’s “no I’m prince arthur of camelot” i love you you’re so dense sometimes

“You need strength and magic” and then gwaine and merlin come along and NO ONE seems to think two seconds more about the implications

“ive been to almost every tavern” “so have i” you’re telling me merlin spent all that time looking for specifically gwaine to help him when he knows arthur is in danger

ANOTHER MORGWEN SCENE (ik morgana just wants her to leave) but we weren’t completely robbed

Arthur not realizing that he feels like shit and thinking hmm that’s weird, this is THE dense, damsel in distress arthur episode

Gwaine is two feet away are you really telling me he didn’t hear bridge guy call merlin Magic

“Strength has arrived the trio is complete” immeidate sword draw

But also the establishment of them as a trio i really love and they never did anything else with it

Gwaine with the flowers :))

THE ENTIREY OF THE FIRE SCENE

*THE* MERWAINE SCENE EVER

“a pheasant” gwaine please

“Why do you want to do this?” cause he’s in love with you merlin

“Same reason as you” (hesitates) (eye contact) “help a friend”

“arthurs lucky to have us”

…

“not arthur” SCREAMING

we’re back to the fond looks

gwaines tiny nod of assurance when merlin looks at him like ??! after he says not arthur

“youre the only friend i have” and i couldnt bear to lose you

Gwen finding out morgana has magic

“she’s changed” break my heart why don’t you (i dont want you to change) BRING HER BACKKK this is making me miss the arc morgana could have had so badly

They caught up to arthur SO FAST goes to show how arthurs going through it

Not wyvern they have four legs actually (tho their designs are cool)

This would have been such a good episode for gwaine to learn merlin is a dragonlord & has magic

Arthur conveniently is knocked out (as always) when merlin does cool magic stuff to save him

When merlin orders them to go and they bow their heads and walk away they look like kicked puppies

The famous arthur waking up to merlins silly little smile and being 100% not appreciative

whatthehellareYOUdoinghere? why can’t you ever just say thanks? augh THANKS!whatforcompLeTlYrUiNiNgThEqUeSt?!

i am supposed to be doing this ALONEEEE

“Are gwen and morgana here too? we going to have a surprise party?” i love you sassy arthur and yes you absolutely should have a surprise party

Do you want us to help you or do you want to do this ~aloneeee~

MERLIN!

The little smile and nod like yeah they got him

“this is a quest merlin not a treasure hunt” well it is sort of- “MERLIN.”

How is that one stone completely sound proof

The cockroaches are icky but y’all have gloves its not that bad you couldn’t even feel them

Set up with the water of avalon and something that actually follows into later episodes

“Merlin.” + arthur doesn’t want to show he actually cares about him vs. gwaine pulling him into a hug

“look what i found” merlin and gwaine shared looks of no you didn’t

The trios conversation at the end i love their dynamics + merlins pause and genuine thanks

Eoin macken looking pretty <33 (he always does)

Merlins little overview of the quest hes so excited awww

Immediate shift to sassy merlin the Duality

I wish Gwen knowing about morgana’s magic would have been explored more i want to see her join gaius and merlin in plotting and going on little quests

Anyways yeah to conclude i miss Gwaine sm :(

[ganondoodle]

yeah no of course i cant stop trying still ...

currently trying to get out of the mindset -draw what could be popular- by designing some rough ideas for the weapons shops in the new totk rewrite (fuse isnt a thing here)

to explain; during the first part (before villain rauru reveal and change to shiekah arm) the way to repair or craft weapons is with a new type of NPCs; they are smiths that can repair your weapons, craft them, and have some avaible to buy (mostly for arrows but also small selection of weapons), it costs material and some money, or if you dont have the material/all material, it costs more money but is still doable, price depending on how valuable or hard to get the material is you dont want to spend on it

then after the switch to the sheikah arm and zelda taking on the role of your permanent companion, she can both repair and craft as well (might be limited but expandable with quests, as in that zelda learns more skills- so theres new quests after the switch and you cant just do everything before that) with the difference that you need to have the required materials but it costs no money

this would mean that while no giant change before and after the halfway point of the game, it is definitely different feeling, plus its a convenience that is good to have in the second half but shouldnt be sorely missed in the first, the difference between NPC smith and zelda gives you the option to spend material or money- so you arent forced to grind anything if you need either for something else, plus new quest rewards for the second half and new points of interest in general, similar to a stable but not too close so theres still an element of exploration; they arent super frequent but around the map of the surface enough that you can reasonably reach one in each region (perhaps after aquiring the yiga as allies/or before that in disguise they can do the same for you but are only found in the underground)

it would also allow for more diverse gameplay, if your favorite weapon is about to break (it might not fully disappear but if you use it up it would go into a condition like the master sword when its lost its power, not usable or doing tiny amount of damage, but not gone forever if you accidentally use it too much-) you can decide to throw it away or keep it until you find the next smith, depending on if you already found one and see you are close or havent yet, or spend the material if you have it to instantly repair it

(i havent decided yet if rauru might be willing to repair your weapons, but not to craft them since he lacks the skill (would never admit to it) and he only wants to give you just enough support to enable you to do what he wants you to do- i think that might work better bc its still a difference to zelda, since she can craft too, but not too much so that you would feel like the games forcing you to use the smiths in the first half ... possibly its unlocked with one of the enigma stones, when rauru can claim he is able to do that now bc it lets him recover some of his strength)

what im wondering now, which is a bit important i think, is .. should the smiths be wandering around a set path or have a lil stationary shop? if they wander around it would make it a bit more depending on situation of you wanna use them, but bears the risk of making it annoying if you dont know here they are or happen to be too far away and a lil weird bc should have something to work on there, like an anvil, which would be a lil strange to carry around; a lil shop could potentially turn into a location you keep teleporting back and forth though im leaning towards the shop; you could make helping them build it a quest too, or saving them from monsters? overall i think this idea is a rather nice balance

[skrittkicking]

charr body types for practice, rambling nonsense under the cut

ive been trying to get better at drawing more varied body types for a while now and i think ive still got a long way to go but im getting there. fat and muscle definition werent something i bothered to learn for a long time because all i wanted to draw was twinks and dragons ... but in the last year or so ive really been pushing myself to do better. i think learning to draw different body shapes is really important and improves your overall anatomy skill by a mile, its also just really fun for me to think about how fat is distributed across the body and affected by gravity and all that stuff. bodies in general are my favorite thing to draw and what i spend the most time sketching

ok enough word vomit lets talk about my ocs

iovitus is supposed to be built more like an athlete, but im not sure i got that across very well. they're still skinny and comparatively twinky next to their fellow cats, but still strong and in good shape. after they left the legions they didnt really bother that much with the upkeep of their figure, but since theyre focusing more on mercenary work again they've been better about it

most of iovitus' muscle is in their shoulder & back, as their weapons of choice -- longbow and throwing axes -- require a lot of strength in that area. theyre very triangular shaped & top-heavy, with a broad chest & shoulders, thin waist and narrow hips. skipped leg day :/

nero is supposed to have sort of a dad-bod type of build. i changed a bit about his design as ive been tinkering around with his lore recently. she was always supposed to have some tummy to her, but i dont think i drew it very well in the past. i think a dad bod is very fitting because she is one after all

i also wanted to make her blind eye more obvious because i kept forgetting about it whenever i drew her so umm sorry babe. still need to come up with an explanation as to why it happened! was considering having him just born with it for a while, but i love scars and scary traumatic events so... sorry nero

in spite of the good layer of fat he's got on his body though, nero is very strong and muscular underneath it all. his warband doesnt do a lot of combat stuff anymore but he's still working most of the time and takes good care of himself. juicy thighs btw

ruckus... i dont have much to say about. i love you babygirl

she's so much taller than everyone else.... its difficult to notice in the line-up as they are, but i wanted to see so i lined them up in front of one another and. well. ->

look at her. and iovitus. why are you so small??

finally, lia! she's still small in comparison to most other blood legion charr, but she makes up for it in her strength. or, well, she might've in her younger years; at her current age she's definitely lost a lot of that muscle definition just by the nature of aging

thats not to say she's weak, though. she can and will definitely fuck you up if you try her

her burned arm is her main weak point. it was burned severely enough where the muscle and nerves were permanently damaged, resulting in a lot of stiffness, uncomfortability, and chronic pain. the movement in that arm is limited and she has to guard it closely if she's ever in a scuffle

i think in general a lot of muscle definition for charr is lost just cause they have fur to cover it up, evident by the fact you cant really see a lot of it on the in-game models. or at least thats my excuse for not knowing how to define muscle with lineart

[weenwrites]

Hi, can I get headcannons about optimus prime with a human reader,where the reader is struggling with the fact that optimus chose jack over them to guard the key to vector sigma.(optimus is the guardian of the reader and the reader blames mostly themselves for being too weak,stupid and regretting every past traumatic experience they shared with optimus.They dont blame jack or optimus.)The reader tries to hide it bcs they dont want to embarrass themselves(as they see it) any further in front of optimus or burden him,but the thoughts that everyone dislikes them creep up again and so they become distant very quiet/serious.(Actually the reader is super intelligent,like ralphs level of smart,but in every possible area of knowledge not just science with great advices for everyone and everything,basically so caring deep down that they see it as weakness and hate themselves for it)Optimus knows whats wrong (he saw the readers hurt expression when he gave the key to jack despite the reader thinking that they were not noticed) and takes them for a drive after a long time to confront the reader about it.I would like like it as long and angsty as possible.

✎A/N: I'm assuming you mean angsty as in this is written from the Reader's POV, and we see all the self-deprecating thoughts and then Optimus approaches them, but my writing focuses more on the character than the reader insert, so I'm sorry if this isn't what you wanted.

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

It's difficult to hide your feelings from him. He's very perceptive, much more than you'd expect, and even if he doesn't pick it up from you directly, he can pick it up from the way the rest of the team positively speaks about you. It's like how a kid thinks they're keeping something under wraps, but the adult already knows everything about it.

As your friend, he readily offers any and all support he can give. Optimus attempts to console you by expressing that by no means are your past contributions considered "small", and for each and every one, the team is grateful. But your worth isn't determined by your ability to contribute to the team, he's sure to add, as the team also values you as a friend whom they can look to for comfort or advice whenever they need it most.

He urges you to not let your own pain blind you from the truth, and he keeps reminding you of all the times you've aided the team in one way or another with your sharp wit and emotional intelligence, such as how you helped to coordinate the effort to seize the space bridge.

Though you see traits such as kindness as weaknesses, he sees them as some of your greatest strengths. Your compassion can be a source of hope and comfort that the team was able to draw from during their darkest hours. It can be difficult to recognize the affect you have on everyone around you, but it's there and he's seen the evidence. Even if you don't see it, you've changed the team's lives and he's grateful for your unwavering kindness, even in the face of adversity.

But he understands that internal conflicts can be among the most difficult to overcome, and so he knows that his words aren't an instant remedy to your insecurities. Your own doubt and insecurity can make you blind to your own strengths and exaggerate your weaknesses, making it hard to accept or believe any remotely positive thing that someone says about you. But Optimus wouldn't lie, these things he's said to you are true and honest, yet it's most likely still difficult to accept them at face value. That's alright, he'll sit through it with you.

[viiioca]

ok i gotta ask does estelle have any particularly strong feelings or judgments on hien? i know a lot of people find him pretty one-dimensional but im imagining estelle would have something to say about the way he views his duty, specifically when he agrees to destroy doma castle. just the contrasts and parallels between ishgardian and doman nobility.

oh that's a great question that i haven't really thought much about (SORRY HIEN I LIKE YOU I JUST DONT THINK ABOUT YOU OFTEN). apologies to doma & hien fans who have a strong grip on them because i'm not going back to check lore and dialogue and thinking about this super hard so we're flying by the seat of my pants. we are in vibes town. long ass answer under da cut

i think estelle certainly has some strong opinions about doma (she has strong opinions about mostly everything) that would transfer over to hien as the presiding head of state. it's a high-context society that is strongly conservative, patriarchal, hierarchical, and standing very much at the precipice of significant social and political change, so it's easy for her to draw parallels between the two. and i think that while hien is similar to aymeric in both personality and role within the state, there is a passiveness to hien's politics that she would find frustrating as well, because the state has subsumed a significant portion of hien's identity, which is partially cultural (the expectation that a good and honorable leader submits wholly, body and spirit, to the needs of his people) and partially personal (being raised under a garlean boot means that identifying as doman and being as doman as possible was critical to resisting oppression).

it makes him reactive rather than proactive, and while he can rise up with a ferocious set of teeth to protect his people, he seems to be leaving matters of social & cultural rebuilding up to the people themselves, who are struggling for stronger guidance beyond their immediate material needs. the people are his foremost concern (in a way that is genuinely quite progressive for a conservative culture, sacrificing tradition and artifice for continued human life and spirit), which is an admirable and genuinely desirable trait in a leader, but it comes at the expense of a coherent and cohesive vision for the future that he can lead his people towards.

which is to say: when it comes to droving the herd, he is more of a sheepdog than a shepherd. that temperament works fine (??) for established city-states like gridania and ul'dah, but as we see with ala mhigo and ishgard, states in active recovery require a willingness to aggressively pursue solutions. (i think it helps ala mhigo, too, that raubahn is balanced with lyse; like hien, raubahn is very much a sheepdog type of leader projecting strength for ala mhigans to look to, but it's lyse who has a genuine vision for ala mhigo's future that she actively pushes towards. hien doesn't really have a similar council he can look towards for the same sort of perspectives and division of labor, which is possibly why he taps on foreign contacts for guidance, e.g. the side-story where he invites g'raha to doma to discuss corvos & its recovery from garlean rule.)

estelle likes hien, so she would be diplomatic about this. but her concerns are plain. doma produced yotsuyu; it was not strictly an act of particularly villainous individuals (though they were), but also a culture that is perfectly complicit in the abuse of women and children, and a state that afforded no protections for them. what are his plans for this, then? how can he use his power and status to enact policy to minimize the chances of this happening again? what are his plans for future governance now that the threat of garlean reinvasion has passed? for a man who loves his people, and for a people who have spent the last few decades with no voice in government nor any power over their own futures, would it be proper to restore the monarchy and its layers of nobility where the smallfolk again have no hands on any lever of power? -- not quite needling, but more than clear about her Certain Political Opinions, and her displeasure about particular injustices that might find themselves repeating without a stronger plan. she's certainly not shy about her own politics and would absolutely press hien to become much more certain in his own.

[bulbabutt]

Thank you for being a bastion of sanity amidst the growing "but proshippers! But incest! But RPF!" purity culture's nonsense.

I'm so tired of being afraid to admit that I've even read a fanfic/fancomic because that same person might have a DIFFERENT ACCOUNT where they indulge in a problematic ship. And therefore they are "bad" and by association, I could be labeled "bad" for having looked at something completely unrelated and tossed on a block list.

It's asinine. Yet I'm too afraid to even get off anon because I know I don't have the mental fortitude to survive a potential online witch hunt.

So thank you, I wish you all the strength to keep screaming the words I cannot.

honestly youre not the first person to send me an anon about this, i just tend to feel just as afraid of responding to them as much as you are afraid of coming off anon. i think because while ill post things in vague context, it becomes another thing when someone says it out loud, yknow? but i appreciate it, knowing im not just screaming into a void where no one likes what i have to say.

i think what i will say is im not the only one who THINKS like i do, but i am just dumb enough to be loud and annoying about it. its kind of a thing where i'd never say anything specific because like... some people are so vicious and will demand blood if they get a whiff if i mention anything vaguely. the fact i have to be afraid to say 'people dont mind' for their own safety is crazy, huh?

i think that thing youre saying about being worried by association from association was the same first time i had this thought. i was reading something so good so deep something that effected me so deeply from how well it was talking about the realistic effects of incestuous abuse, and then i went to see what else the author had written and i was like. oh. theres just regular incest in here too. and that was kind of a moment of hm.. perhaps i need to think more about what really matters here. the fact i can engage with what i want and just say 'oh i see what else you do, thats not for me so i will just not engage with that'

so it hurts worse when theres the idea of someone engaging with art they like that has nothing 'weird' going on, then suddenly getting hit with screaming that that artist has a side account theyre not advertising where they make weird art that they are keeping FULLY separate from the account in question. like i do not see how that helps anybody in that situation.

then theres the generalization of it. the idea that maybe all you did was draw like. 19 yr old versions of two 15 yr olds kissing, and suddenly that gets you put on a list of people who will draw literal children in sexual situations, gets you put in that same boat without question. that shit is so cruel to me, that these things all get painted with the same brush. equally as bad, equally as deserving of being ostracized. or the idea that you get put on that list for not caring about if strangers ship things on the internet, makes you just as bad as someone who makes it. i really just hate this entire culture.

idk im... old school i guess? back in my day youd watch a shitty cartoon that had over 20 characters in it so you could smash them together in whatever ship suited you. crack ships were the bread and butter of me and my friends, shit that made no sense but in your own head. the idea of being anti... shipping at all is so... thats very weird. shipping as a thing is very much what fandom was ever made for in the first place? like. im not kidding, learn your history if you dont know that (middle age women shipping kirk and spock)

back when i was a kid i watched this tv show called kim possible, and i was a kid who didnt know shit about themselves seeing a pretty villain lady for the first time who called the main character who was a girl princess. i didnt know what to make of that, i didnt know the age difference between them i was a dumbass child, they were both drawn the same way! then im like 12 years old on the internet, i see theres a ship of the teenage girl and this like 30 yr old villain woman. do you think my 12 year old self saw the problematic nature and thought deeply about the morals of said ship? no. i was like 'holy shit i wish i was the teenage girl dating shego. why do i like this? oh god im a lesbian'

again. i was a child. what are you gonna do, go back in time and arrest my 12 year old ass for looking at pg rated fanart of women kissing on the internet? we didnt HAVE real representation yet! there was no korrasami, no rupphire, no bubbline, no lumity! shipping was the only place you could see stuff that was gay! and it being GAY would get you in more trouble than it having an age gap!

the fact is people WOULD cancel me now for that, wouldnt you?! thats where we're at. that IS a problematic ship, id be put on a blocklist in todays internet for being a child who crushed on villains. i didnt make it, i didnt create for it, i just looked at it and that would get you in trouble now!!! thats crazy.

i know thats a random tangent to go off on, but like..... hhhhh i dont know man. sometimes it seems like people want the internet to pass by broadcasting standards and practices and thats!!! bad!!! let people experiment with their weird shit as they figure themselves out, its so fucking normal. youre not a bad person for looking at things on the internet, youre not a bad person for engaging with things, youre not a bad person for being horny online! especially if you make your own fucking space for it?? a space easily blacklistable, with trigger warnings and EVERYTHING... we didnt have those when i was a kid, so some things are better, but culture is just worse.

i dunno. i just think i would not have thrived in this environment as a teenager. im glad im old and know better, but i worry about the lessons kids are learning from this. to feel ashamed, to bottle shit up, its not good for you. be kind to yourself, be kind to others. we're all working through shit in our own ways.

sorry for another long annoying post

[specialagentlokitty]

Spike x reader - before I laid eyes on you

Part two:

For the duration of your recovery you were never left alone, from nurses and doctors at the hospital, to your friends or Giles staying at your home to make sure you were alright.

Nobody wanted to leave you alone, and it was exhausting in many ways.

You just wanted to be alone for a while, have time to yourself even just for an hour, because you wanted him to turn up and you knew he wouldn’t if they were there.

It had been nearly three months, and there was still nothing from him, but thankfully everybody deemed it okay for you to finally have time to yourself.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Giles asked.

“Yes, yes I’ll be fine. Honestly.”

You smiled at them.

“If you feel anything wrong, or you need anything you’ll call one of us right?” Xander asked.

“I promise.”

“And don’t be inviting anybody in.” Buffy said sternly.

“Yes I know, I know. Now go, live your lives, I want sleep.”

They all laughed, hugging you before they left and with a heavy sigh you closed your door, thankful for the time alone.

Making your way over to the couch, you laid down, pulling a blanket over you.

The house was finally quiet, and it felt strange, so you turned the TV on while you took a nap.

A few hours later and you woke up, so you sat up, stretching a little and you looked around.

Slowly standing, you wondered into the kitchen for a drink then you made your way back to the living room.

You put a blanket around your shoulders, heading to the front door to open it, and you leant against it looking out on the street.

You were half expecting, half hoping for Spike to come, but he never did, but you did see something on your doorstep.

Crouching down to get it, you closed the door and walked back to the living room, setting the box on the table so you could open it.

Reaching inside, you pulled out a frame photo of one of the drawings you had done and you smiled.

“He did come..” you whispered.

You set it on the coffee table, looking at it with a fond smile.

The sunrise was coming, so you knew not to expect him anytime soon, so you spent the time catching up on some stuff you had to do, and of course sleeping.

And as night came back around, the moment the sun set there was a knock on your door.

Walking over, you opened it.

“Hello cutie.” Spike smiled.

“You’re here…”

Stepping outside you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in for a hug, and he smiled, placing a hand on your back.

Your hug was so gentle and warm, both things Spike thought he would never experience again, so when you moved away he was disappointed.

You took his hand and stepping inside.

“Are we forgetting vampires cannot enter?”

“I want you to come in spike.”

He smiled, stepping through the threshold and you closed the door, turning on the hall light.

Squinting, you turned your head to the floor, placing a hand over your eyes.

“You’re supposed to close your eyes before turning on lights, give them time to adjust. You know this.”

“I forgot…”

“Of course you did, come on.”

Spike took your free hand, leading you to the living room and sat you down, turning on the light in there as well.

You waited a moment before slowly moving your hand away.

Everything was a little fuzzy, and you couldn’t make out anything in the corners of your vision.

Spike sat down on the table in front of you.

You moved your gaze to the movement, and you looked at him.

“How did it go? Did it help?”

“I.. I can see you…”

Spike shuffled forward, shock on his face.

“You can?”

You nodded.

“I.. I can.. sort of.. it.. it’s still blurry… but.. but I can see you…”

You laughed softly, reaching up you touched the scar on his eyebrow.

“You have a scar…”

“I’ve had one for a long while now love.”

Spike took your hand, holding it in both of his.

“What about those spells? Would they still work? Would they help make your vision any better?”

“I.. I don’t I haven’t tried yet.. I.. I dont have the strength..”

Spike took your other hand in his.

“Then take some of mine, we all know I have plenty to spare.”

“Are you sure?”

“Try.”

You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and drew some strength from him, whispering an incantation under your breath.

You finished but you kept your eyes closed, too scared to open them.

“Open your eyes love…” he whispered.

“What if it didn’t work…?”

“Then we’ll find out, but we can’t find out if you don’t open your eyes right?”

You nodded, knowing that he was right but it still didn’t make you any less scared.

Slowly you opened your eyes, and everything was clearer, it was easier to see, you knew it wouldn’t last long, but it was enough for now.

You could see the vampire in front of you a lot better, and see more things about him you hadn’t noticed.

“You’re hair…”

You laughed a little, reaching up to touch it, running your hand through it, and then you touched his face lightly.

“Like what you see do you?” He teased.

“You’re different from what I pictured…”

He furrowed his brows a little.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

Laughing, and looked down.

“It’s a good thing.”

Spike placed a finger on your chin, tilting your head back up to face him.

“Don’t hide from me..”

He smiled, and you found yourself smiling back at him.

“Will you show me your vampire face?”

“Now why the hell would you want to see that?”

You shrugged a little, still smiling at him.

“I haven’t seen a vampires face before, please Spike?”

He rolled his eyes but turned his face away, then he turned back and it looked different, his eyes were yellow, fangs, wrinkles on his head.

You touched his head, and his face went back to normal.

“Scary.” You snickered.

“I know, isn’t it just?” He smirked.

This made you laughed, and Spike sat forward, his knees touching yours, and you clasped your hands together, placing them on your lap.

You wore a mischievous grin, and he placed his hands on his knees.

“You’re plotting something, I’d recognise that look anywhere.”

“Come outside with me?”

“A strange request but alright, I’ll humour you, let’s go.”

You jumped up, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and you rushed out your back door and into the garden.

Spike followed you, standing behind you as you titled your head back.

“Is there a reason for this?”

“I haven’t seen the stars in so long…”

Spike titled his head down a little, eyes locked with yours and you reached up, poking his forehead to move him back.

“Your big head is in the way.”

“Ouch, now that’s rude.”

Spike moved to stand in front of you but you paid him no mind.

He took your blanket, and he adjusted it, tying it gently so it wouldn’t fall down.

His hands lingered on your shoulders, and he walked back around you, wrapping his arms around your waist, tilting his head back to look at the stars with you.

“Will you keep our deal..?” You whispered.

“A deal is a deal.”

You smiled a little, and rested your head back on his chest.

“Will you stay here with me?”

“Who am I to deny such a request?” He smirked.

So he did, Spike stayed with you, helping you with your day to day life.

Spike would always catch you staring at him, but he said nothing about it, because in truth he was doing the exact same thing when you weren’t looking.

Some days you weren’t as good as others, and those were the days you stayed in bed or on the couch sleeping, and he would sit next to you.

He helped you do the things you missed doing, star gazing, taking walks to admire nature, shopping.

For Spike it was all different, strange, but to see that twinkle in your eyes it was all worth it to him.

Today you were feeling pretty good, fully of energy and life.

You bounded down the stairs, and you all but ran down the basement stairs as well, grinning from ear to ear at Spike who was smoking.

“Bloody hell love, you know not to come down here I smoke, it’s not good for you.”

“A lot of things aren’t good for me, it’s fine!”

Spike put his cigarette out and looked up from the bed he had put up down there.

Walking over, you sat on the bed, laying down so your head was on his legs and you smiled at him.

Spike rose a brow in question at you, placing his hand on your forehead to make sure that you were in fact feeling alright.

His fingers trailed down your face, drumming lightly against your cheek.

“Then what do you happen to be up to?” He asked.

“I want to dance.”

“I can’t go upstairs, it’s too sunny in your house, really you should invest in some blinds or something.”

“Later, when the sunsets. Can we?”

Spike hummed, placing his arms under you to lift you up so he could stand, then he placed you on the floor.

“Maybe, but for now you have medicine to take.”

He ushered you to the stairs.

You took your medication, then you got ready to go out with your friends, a few hours at the mall before they all had to return to college or work.

You on the other hand returned home, and you went downstairs, sitting next to Spike, tucking yourself in his side.

He had a hand on your head, his thumb running over the surgical scar.

He knew you were asleep, so he covered you with the blanket, shuffling a little so you had your head on his chest.

When the sun set he moved, resting your head on the pillows and made his way up the stairs.

He went out to get his own shopping, then turned to put it all in the fridge downstairs then went back upstairs.

Eventually you made your way up to see that he had moved your furniture in the living room, and there was a fire in the fireplace which he was was poking at.

“I feel like vampires and fire don’t go well.”

“You’re awake, have you taken your medicine?”

You shook your head.

“Right, sit.”

You did and he went to get it and while you were taking it he walked over to the radio, turning it on to mess with a few station before he walked over.

He took the glass from you, setting it aside on the mantle place.

Taking his jacket off, he tossed it on the couch, then held out his hand towards you.

“Would you like that dance now love?”

“I would.”

Spike helped you up, then he placed a hand on your mid back, his other hand holding yours, while you planted your hand on his chest.

“I don’t know how to dance…”

Spike chuckled, wrapping his arm around you he lifted you up, putting you on his feet, leaning his arm around you as he began to dance.

You wore a grin on your face, and he rolled his eyes at you.

“Now, if you don’t know how to dance, why would you ask to dance?”

“I like it when you hold me?”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“All you have to do is ask…” he whispered.

You rested your head on his chest, and he planted his chin on your head, slowly dancing around in circles, only the fire lighting up the room.

You hadn’t told Spike that your eyesight had slowly began to decline, not but much but enough so that you noticed it.

You could still see him, but you didn’t know how long you would keep being able to see him, and you had a feeling your use of the spells to clear your vision was making it worse.

You moved and he lifted his head so you could, and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, clasping your hands together.

The fire gave your skin a soft glow, your eyes a warm spark.

In all his life alive he had never seen anything so perfect.

Yes, he was possessive over Drusilla, maybe there was time he could have labelled it love, but that wasn’t it.

If was able to decipher what love was, what it felt like he was sure it would be, this exact moment he was in right now, that it would be you.

You gave him warmth and joy, as much as a soulless vampire was able to have anyway.

“Why do you stay…?” You whispered.

“What on earth do you mean?” He asked.

You let out a little sigh, your smile falling a bit.

“You can go at any point, you don’t actually have to stay here.”

“Why would I go?”

You looked at him confused.

“Sometimes you can be so stupid, you’re here (Y/N), why would I want to go anywhere else?”

Your smile picked up again.

“You mean it? Really?”

“Well I certainly wouldn’t be here if I didn’t mean it. You treat me like a man, not an animal, you always have.”

You gave a small shrug.

“You’ve always been nothing but nice to me…” you whispered.

“I intend to stay as long as you’ll let me.” He said.

You leant up, pressing a kiss his cheek.

Spike stopped dancing and he gazed down at you with gentle eyes, and slowly he leant down, connecting his lips with yours.

It was a little unsure at first, he wasn’t sure how you would react, but he had been wanting to do it for a long time.

When he felt you kiss him back he immediately gained his confidence back, using his arms around you to pull you closer.

Your hands went to his neck, running through the hairs on the back of his head.

It was a desperate kiss, but it was still gentle, not demanding.

Every time you pulled away he would leant forward to kiss you again.

“Spike.. some of us need air…”

He chuckled, kiss your jaw instead and he rested his forehead in yours.

“Well that’s no fun…”

“It is for me if I want to keep living.”

This made him chuckle again and he closed eyes nose, nose brushing against yours.

You had your eyes closed, and you brushed your lips against his, keeping your hands on the back of his head.

“What was that for..?” You whispered.

“Do I need a reason?” He replied quietly.

“Never..”

He smiled, lifting his head to put his chin on your head, and you placed your head on his chest once more, eyes still closed.

Spike resumed his dancing, one hand on the small of your back, and the other between your shoulder blades, and you moved your arm to his shoulders, holding them.

The only thing that filled the room now was the crackling of the fire, and the music through the radio.

Both of you were so enveloped in each others company you didn’t hear the door open.

“Oh…” Giles mumbled.

“I.. do we go..?” Xander asked confused.

Buffy reached into her bag for her stake and she was stopped by both Willow and Tara.

“Come on, look at them…” willow whispered.

“He’s clearly done something to worm his way in!” Buffy hissed.

Tara shook her head.

“I don’t think so, look, (Y/N)s smiling.”

“She does seem pretty happy, what’s so wrong with that?” Anya shrugged.

“It’s spike!”

Giles placed a hand on the young slayers shoulder.

“Buffy, Spike can’t hurt her, we know that… thought it is unusual and a sight I would definitely prefer to forget, all they’re doing is dancing…”

Buffy looked at you again taking her hand out her bag and she smiled as she saw your soft smile.

They all quiet left, not wanting to disturb the peace, and they all shared a look.

“That’s definitely an imagine I want to burn out of my mind, that’s creepy, seeing him all not angry and you know murderous.” Xander said.

Everybody else agreed as they left, and you opened your eyes, looking up at spike.

“We’ve been caught…”

“I know, I don’t care.”

You lightly laughed, placing your head back in his chest.

You didn’t care either, but you knew that they weren’t going to drop it that easily, and you definitely hadn’t heard the last of this.

But you really didn’t care, you were just enjoying the moment in the arms of the man you had accidentally fallen for before you even saw him

[websitestargirl]

type of traditional arts and crafts i think my fav cod characters would do because im crazy and all i think about is sex, video games, and fine arts

ghost:

wheel throwing. getting good at it is extremely difficult but rewarding (even though i picked it up immediately; non-humble brag). its one of those things where you can just sit and do it for hours and hours and hours non stop with very little variation of what youre making. like yes you can make pot or bowl or plate but they process of creating is rhythm and requires focus. its hypnotic, watching it go round and round. sensory heaven. its like giving him a chew toy

price:

man idfk this man doesnt have a creative bone in his body. he should learn how to conduct a marching band or something. oh but- but- delia! music isnt Traditional Arts its Music SHUT THE FUCK UPP SHUT UP SHUT IP SHUT UP (arguing at the wall)

soap:

i think he needs to be shown how to use a printing press. i think he needs to be taught lithography. i think the process would its his brain with the etching and chemicals and crayon and the fucking 6000lb block of limestone. soap is more of a drawer than anything else, and lithography is so drawing based itd cater to his skill set. also printing in lithography is easy af and quick so i think hed have fun just doing it again and again and again and again and-

gaz:

i think gaz should make books. he should learn all of the folds and cuts and make accordion style books and learn japanese book binding and all the other ones (im not a bookmaker so i dont know but i look at books). sequencing, collection of materials, and assembly can be done at any range of speed depending on what’s being created. it’s a tactile skill that uses dexterity, strength in the hands, precision, and planning. idk what hed make but he should make books.

this is actually all i can think of

honorable mentions:

graves should do film because hed make campy marvel captain america shorts where hes basically just jerking himself off for 5 minutes but disguised as an indie american film about War and Hardship (what the hell, sure)

nikolai should learn to play the flute. also welding maybe. idfk anything about welding but i know people who make pretty cool things. maybe he can make tiny

omfg wait a second im so dumb

nikolai should learn jewelry slip casting cause then he could make little airplanes out of precious metals

okay thats all

[neo-novaa]

enchanted

; the second part to enamored

*ੈ✩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: neteyam x na'vi!reader

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut !! p in v, fingering, implied first time, not proofread so if you see any errors, no you dont!

*ੈ✩ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.4k

*ੈ✩ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: gah damn this took too long, writing smut as an asexual is not for the week.

“i see you.”

your breath catches in your throat when you hear neteyam say it. you slowly open your eyes, practically seeing your own reflection in his dilated pupils. it takes strength to only keep your eyes on his, to not let them wander down to his tantiling lips.

“i see you,” you whisper in return, watching the way that the corner of his eyes crinkle into a smile.

in mere moments his lips are on yours again, that carnal want and need weighing heavy in the air around you. it’s all tooth and tongue, messy, thick with something so much more carnal than you’ve ever felt before.

your hands are carelessly and aimlessly grasping neteyams body, trying to bring him closer to you, to get every inch of his skin against yours.

you only pull away when neteyam guides you to the ground, his hands still finding their place on your jaw. the way that he’s suddenly avoiding your gaze is making you nervous.

“what is it neteyam?” your voice is barely a whisper, throat dry from breathing so heavily, your mouth wet from his spit.

“i want it to be you.” he says, persistent in avoiding your gaze. 

confusion quickly clouds the yen in your mind. “you want me to be what?”

neteyams eyes finally reach yours, and you find something nervous behind them-- a look you hadn’t seen since that night you rode out together. he glances down quickly, drawing his hands from your face and taking yours instead.

“i choose you.” he whispers, punctuation every word. “for the rest of my life, i would want no one else by my side. i want it to be you--” his right hand is suddenly bringing yours to his chest. “i’ve always wanted it to be you.”

you can feel how fast his heart is beating, how strong it is; how heavy it is beneath the chest, weighed with the burden of his long pining over you.

“please,” he murmurs, a silent plea to hear of whether or not the feeling is reciprocated.

“ma’teyam,” you match his volume, delicately pressing down against his chest. “it has always been you; it could only be you.”

in less than a moment his lips are on yours, swallowing the air in your lungs and the words on your tongue. his hands are all over you, aimlessly grasping at your skin-- you barely have time to keep up before he pulls away from you, leaving you absolutely wrecked.

“i want you to feel what i feel,” neteyam’s reaching over his shoulder. “for you to feel what i feel for you.”

he presents you his queue, the pink tendrils grasping the air around it. you don’t hesitate to reach for you own, but you find yourself pausing before you make tsaheylyu.

you’re nervous, overwhelmingly so. the exhilaration at the thought of being his mate  is clouded at the sudden anxiety of your first time.

“hey,” he catches your attention by thumbing at your knee. “it’ll be okay, i promise. trust me.” his last words are a whisper, slowly but surely easing your fears.

you watch as your queues intertwine with one another, as you are suddenly and powerfully hit with an onslaught of effections--

his feelings get lost with your own, and for the first few moments, you can’t tell where you start, and he ends. your heartbeats in sync, your breathing steady with one another, your minds temporarily melding into one.

only then does it really hit you.

first, it’s the love.

the undying adoration, the never-ending fondness rooted so deeply in his soul that it has surpassed a feeling, and has turned into a core emotion.

joy, sorrow, fear and love-- love that is completely devoted to you.

the sudden warmth that is desperately heating your bodies, sharp adrenaline running through your brins, the unwavering need to be closer than physically possible with the person across, to be bound to them, body and soul.

then, it’s the lust.

the unyielding, ever present need for you, like a hunger that he was never able to satiate. you can feel those long nights he’d have, desperately bucking into his hand, wishing-- longing for it to be you instead.

the deep and inate desire that is heating your bodies, that primal desire for you ingrained in his body like a sixth sense; that ever-present, all-pervading yearning that never once waivered.

and you can feel his pain. not the one that you’d get from a knife to the throat, or a blow to a head, no-- the type of pain that resides deep in your abdomen, pulsing, aching-- the type that can only intensify with your touch.

you barely notice how hard your breathing, you barely notice how you’re sharing that same ache for him. 

you barely get his name out before you’re on top of neteyam, straddling his thigh, fervently pressing your lips against his. you keep moving yourself closer, nearer, you need to be underneath his skin--

the euphoric feeling of the bond becomes more tolerable, that out-of-body feeling dissipating until you can finally feel where your fingers touch him. you’re hyperaware of his breath on your neck, his hands gripping your waist, his dick pressing hard against your loincloth.

his fingers dig into you, grinding your hips down onto him. he’s breathing into your neck, desperately rutting into you. you can feel his own pleasure within you, every roll of your hip giving you and him the friction you need.

neteyams movements suddenly still, and you bite back a whine at the sudden understumulation.

“can i touch you?” he pleas, his voice dry and his chest heaving. “can i please touch you?” his desperation sends chills down your spine.

his hands are climbing your waist, reaching the bottom of your waist before falling back down to your hips.

“yes,” you rasp, mind foggy with your own arousal. “yes, please--”

you’re pushing yourself up from your knees, fussing with the knots of your loincloth, neteyams hand on the small of your back as he lays you down. the moment you get it off of your abdomen, he’s pressing a thumb against your clit.

your back arches to the sky as you let out a loud whine, neteyam matching it as he can feel your pleasure through tsaheylu.

without much warning, neteyam sticks a finger inside of you, the two of you gasping together at the sensation. 

“is this okay?” he asks, and you’re too overwhelmed to do anything but nod.

“good, good…” neteyam whisperes as he begins to curl his finger inside of you. you rut your hips into his hand, chasing that arousal, urging that tightening coil in your abdomen.

just as you’re getting acclimated to one finger, neteyam is pushing another inside of you, curling at your gummy walls.

“shi-- ‘teyam, feels so--” you can barely get a word out without whining incoherently, and you spot the way that neteyam seems just out of breath as you are.

“i know, i can feel it.” he murmurs, and you whimper noisily as he begins to hasten his pace. he gently pushes his thumb against your aching clit, and whines loudly  at the shared sensation.

“so good, doin’ so good,” he says against your neck, and you can feel him grinding against your thigh. 

“neteyam-- please,” you whine, grabbing at his shoulders. 

“yeah? what is it, use your words.” he purrs.

it’s hard to get any words out with the way that he’s fingering you. his thumb pushing against your clit in firm circles, his digits pressing against a spot that’s making you see stars--

“i wa-- ah… i want you in me,” you barely get out, and you can feel how quickly that gets to him-- his breath quivering, cock twitching against your leg.

neteyam doesn’t say anything before he pulls his fingers from you, leaving you squirming at the lack of stimulation. above you, you can see neteyam ardently working with his loincloth, sweat dripping from his forehead.

you could feel his anticipation, that voracious yearning that’s been festering inside of him for years. your heartbeats fast, your breathing in sync, and you feel that same ardor creeping up in your chest.

neteyams on top of you again, one arm encaging your head as hot breath hitting your neck with his head resting against the forest floor.

“you ready?” he grunts, his tip aching against your folds.

“yes,” you breathe, feeling your heart flutter with yours. 

he pushes into you, buries himself into you until his hips meet yours. you can’t help the way your chest arches into his, and neteyam can’t help the way he’s whimpering into your ear. you can feel each others pleasure, and it’s enough to make the two of you see stars.

your hands find his waist, thumbing against the muscles on his lower abdomen, silently encouraging -- begging him to move.

he swiftly gets the message, slowly pulling out, gently rutting back into you, setting an almost sluggish pace.

but you can feel how much he’s holding back. in his taut muscles, his furrowed brows, and the way that he’s grunting through his teeth-- he’s holding back, and you don’t want him to hold back; you want him to ruin you.

“neteyam,” you’re sighing his name, feeling the way he twitches inside of you. “please don’t hold back.”

“it’s okay,” he quickly replies, his hips stuttering against yours. “--just want you to feel good.”

“neteyam.” you say his name more firmly, nearly yanking him by the back of his head to face you.

“i want all of you.” you see his eyes widen. “i need all of you.”

he doesn’t say anything; all neteyam does it push your leg until your thigh meets your chest, kiss you hard, and set an absolutely brutal pace. 

you can barely hear his quiet whines and breathy moans against your hips rutting together; you barely register how hard neteyam is biting into your neck, his canines digging into your skin. 

your nails dig into his back, your chest meeting his as you arch into his thrusts.

“--teyam,” you whine, exposing more of your neck to his blistering lips on your neck. “don’t leave marks. people will see, they will stare.”

he pulls away, only to blow his hot breath against the welts on your neck. 

“let them stare,” he nearly growls, pushing away to meet your gaze. “let everyone know who you belong to.”

neteyam resumes position, his cabins digging deeper into your shoulder. his free had pushes your hips down, keeping you still as he keeps driving into you.

“you like that, don’t you,” neteyam whispers into your ear, brushing his temple against yours. “the thought of being covered in bruises because of me?”

you nod helplessly, relishing how tight your abdomen burns. you can feel it coiling tighter, burning harder, and your hands are clawing at neteyam, chasing your release.

you grasp at his neck, pulling him closer, pushing him to go harder. you beg for him, for his touch, for anything--

“what is it?” he murmurs, lips moving to your jugular, neteyam watching as it bobs helplessly, your words swallowed by helpless whines. 

“touch me,” you mewl, feeling tears prick at the corners of you eyes. everything he does is too much and too little-- you can feel every one of his nerves crashing into yours, yet you don’t feel him enough. 

skin against skin, heartbeats in sync, but yet you can’t feel complete without his hands on you. 

“where do you want me to touch you?” he’s filled with questions, and you can feel how hard he’s trying to concentrate on you. on your words, your touch, the beautiful noises that come spilling from your lips every time he buries himself into you.

“i don’t know, i don’t care-- i just want your hands on me. please--” you rush your words, the ache in your chest matching the burning in your core. 

he whispers something against your lips, something incoherent beneath his whimpers, your mewls, and skin slapping against skin.

you can feel his touch scortching into your sides, one of his hands digging into your waist as the other moves south, his fingers finding place against your clit.

you arch into his fingers, neteyam feeling the way your lungs burn with your needy gasps. you’re close-- he’s close, bodies moving against each other in sync.

“mine, all mine.” he says, rutting into you as he seeks his own release. he’s thumbing against your clit, helping the pressure build inside of you. he knows you’re close, he can feel it.   

your hands finally find their place on his cheeks, bringing his face down to yours. his pupils are blown, eclipsing his iris’ until all you can see is a golden halo. 

“yours,” you breathe against his lips, kissing him firmly. “all yours.” 

that’s all he needs to finish, burying himself into you, murmuring your name like a prayer. you feel yourself crashing over the edge, digging your nose into his neck, basking in the rhapsodic feeling of your shared release.

his forehead against yours, hands finding their place on your hips, calming your twitching abdomen as you ride the aftershock of your orgasm. 

through your bond you can still feel his heartbeat, it’s pace catching up to yours. you breathe the same air as him, thick with your shared heat and pheromones. it’s sickly, how deeply you scent him, and how much of you he can feel in his lungs.

for a moment, thats all you do; you bask in the shared space, the feeling of pure adoration eating each other alive. you can feel your breathing become even, your heart slowing pace, his chest beating against yours.

neteyam breaths your name against your lips, and you can’t help but smile.

you’ve never felt closer to him, and a part of you fears that if you break the bond, he will slip through your hands, and become a stranger to you once more.

so you hold onto neteyam like he’s falling, slipping away from you. you hold him like he’s nothing but a fleeting moment. you hold him like he’s a dream, and you squeeze your eyes shut in fear that when you open them, he will be gone.

neteyam can feel your fear. all he knows is that he loves you, and you love him, and he shows you that love by slipping his arms under your back, putting all his weight on you as he embraces you.

“i see you.” neteyam whispers. his words slipping into your mouth, his lips against yours, savoring the taste of your love for him. 

“i see you,” you echo, like it’s a secret that you’d been too nervous to share. but neteyam takes your words and swallows them whole, letting them fuel his blood, his lungs, and his heart.