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sentbyjake · 12 days ago

Text

SNEAKY INK [JAKE SIM]

pairing : jake x fem!reader

warnings : no sex scene, just oral (f + m receiving), strangers!smut, public!smut (kinda), jake is just a tad bit mean for one second but he means no harm

synopsis : getting a tattoo from a handsome hot stranger? sign you up.

author's note : four year old fic revamped, give it love <3

word count : 7.1k

hi, how can i help you?"

"i had taken an appointment? y/n y/l/n."

once the receptionist found your name on his laptop, he had you sit in room 3. "the guy's gone to refill his tattoo gun, he'll be back in a minute. you can relax in the room by that time."

you walked to the room and sat on the chair on the other end, looking at everything around you. photos of everyone with their tattoos were stuck around. everyone looksd quite happy with them. *so maybe this doesn't hurt as much right?*

there were ink bottles and all kinds of needles placed on a table beside you, a few rough sketches scattered, too.

"hey! y/n, right? i'm jake."

your eyes darted towards the door, the man standing over there wearing a simple black shirt tucked inside his jeans, a silver necklace dangling from his neck. he was holding a tattoo gun in his right hand and your eyes slightly widened at the sight, the sensation of the needles piercing already gnawing at you.

"don't worry. it won't hurt at all." he gave you a small smile and walked towards the bookshelf. "so, what kind of tattoo do you want?"

"i was hoping for a flower tattoo, but a really small one."

"and where are you planning to get it?"

your heart stopped for a moment before you muttered, "um, my inner thigh."

he turned around to look at you with slightly raised eyebrows before picking out a book that had various flower designs. "here, you can pick a design from any of these."

he handed you the book and went to the printing machine, turning it on and setting other things up.

you flipped through all the pages, finding all of the flowers too common and mundane and overdone. one design caught your eye and you looked at jake while pointing at it. "can i have this one?"

jake took a look at the design you were indicating and once again, gave you a “woah-dude-you-alright“ look before going back to work. "that's the flower of corriander. good choice. not a lot of people choose that one but it's actually very pretty."

you kept the book aside with the page open and had no idea what to do with your hands now.

once jake was done with whatever he was doing, he grabbed the book and let the printer scan the design.

"alright we're done with the scan, now all that is left is to sketch the tattoo on your leg and once that dries, we can finally get you a permanent inking."

his warm smile returned on his face and you smiled back at him. at that moment, when he bent down on his knees and looked at you, you could feel yourself starting to produce strings of arousal. he was literally eye level with your pussy and you had no idea what to do with this piece of fact.

"open your legs, darling."

and you instantly spread them apart, earning a small chuckle from the man in front of you. as soon as his warm fingers brushed across your thigh, you got goosebumps, and he noticed it but didn't choose to say anything, smirking to himself.

you noticed how he had really unique pink knuckles and how his fingers would very skillfully brush the sketching pen across your flesh. how his hands looked so delicate but his arms strong enough to crush a few bricks. you so wanted to just push his face on you and grind against his mouth, wanting to feel his fingers kneading your folds.

by this time, you were sure that you were emanating quite a strong pull from down there, but you didn't realize that jake could smell your arousal very clearly.

"do you know what corriander flowers represent?" he asked you, but you weren't focusing on what we he was saying. you were more focused on his plump lips and eyebrow slit. the way his eyes were laser focused on your thighs.

on hearing no response from your side, he continued, "they symbolize burning fire, passion, and lust." he looked at you for a second with deep dark eyes and then back at your thigh. the smell of you being turned on was literally shouting at him to keep everything down and pleasure you, touch you in places not everyone could.

his mind was swimming in all kinds of lewd thoughts, wanting to make you whimper against him, to hear the pretty little noises you could potentially make. but he had to remain professional and on his toes.

on second thought though, who the fuck cared?

jake lunged at you. holding you close to him by your waist. he was kneeling in between your legs, chest pressed flush against yours. he grazed your lower lip with his tongue, poking his fingers at your covered pussy, asking for permission. when you encouraged him to move on, he didn't hold back. ripping your shorts and panties off of you, he didn't take a second to even look at your dripping state, heading straight to business, immediately inserting his tongue inside you. his hands roamed above on your body, reaching out for your breasts, massaging and pressing them against his hands.

how the fuck was he good at this? and that too, at his first try on you?

as he rapidly flicked his tongue up and down you let out cries of pure pleasure, grabbing his hair and pushing his head deeper, almost depriving him of air.

he clicked his tongue and looked at you witha a sharp look. "did i tell you to touch me? did i tell you to mess my hair?" you shook your head in apology and rested back, signalling that you wouldn't interfere anymore.

he let go of you this time, chuckling at how readily obedient you were for a complete stranger, just for the sake of chasing your high. he went back to fondling with your thighs and nudging your clit with his nose while he gorgeously ate you out. when you came, your moans were too loud to be contained in the room. as he licked off all your release, wiping the excess cum from his chin, he got up and switched positions with you, so that now you were the one kneeling in front of him.

as you frantically took off his jeans and boxers, he put his hands under your shirt to caress your tits. you kept letting out small sounds and a loud one once you processed the sight of jake's long cock in front of you.

was this even going to fit?

but you didn't want to waste time in contemplating on the question, you collected his precum on your fingers and spread it all over his dick, eyes wide with fascination as if you were a toddler discovering paints for the first time. you hear jake snickerlightly and he put a strand of your hair behind your ear. "cute."

once you were done with prepping yourself, you moved your head down, taking his length till you couldn't anymore. he's thick for sure.

jake let out a long array of groaning and pushed you to continue.

moving your head up and down as fast as you could, you felt him gathering your hair in a pigtail, guiding your head. but he was a man of revenge. so he pushed your head further down, returning the favor of you choking him oh so nicely.

hearing you gag, his ego settled. he let go of instructing your head and sat back, letting you do your job.

"fuck, why are you so fucking good?"

hearing his indirect praises, you moved your head even faster, his increasing moans motivating you even more.

it was crazy, what was happening right now. you wanted to make sure that this man - this stranger - felt that you were good enough to make him dance in the clouds and that you were an expert in sucking dicks. and he did, once he came on your face, painting your cheeks, nose and lips with his cum.

he waited for a moment to admire your face, clearly proud of his creation before grabbing a tissue to clean everything off of you. once done, jake brought you up to him and sat you on his laps, hugging you from behind.

he kissed your nape, back of your jawline, ear lobe and tickled you with his nose, small sessions of chuckles following soon. checking the clock, the two of you finally finished what you had come here for, a tattoo.

you wouldn't say it didn't pain but, it didn't hurt as much as you had anticipated it to. plus jake helped you calm down everytime he inched to a sensitive region and just like that you were done with the tattoo in no time.

he walked with you to bid you goodbye till the shop's door and then headed back inside, confused as to why he felt a pit of disappointment when you left, wondering if you'd ever come back or not.

"hi, how can i help you?"

"i had booked an appointment? y/n y/l/n."

"your tattoo artist will be waiting for you in room number three, please wait while he refills his tattoo gun."

you smirked to yourself while walking to the familiar room, memories gushing in as you sat down on that one particular memorable chair.

the door opened and you looked up to see the same man who had made you see stars two weeks ago.

you got up from your chair and walked towards him, pushing him against the door while leaning in for a rough kiss.

looking at you, he smirked and closed the door behind him. "well hello there, miss."

"well hello there, mister."

#enhypen #enhypen smut #enhypen jake #enhypen jaeyun #jake sim #sim jake #jaeyun smut #enhypen jake smut #jake smut

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blissfulflw · 2 months ago

Note

can I request coffee shop owner! giselle x frequent customer! reader ples :O thank yeww

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･O𝑛𝑒 𝑀𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝐶𝑢𝑝

Pairing- Uchinaga Aeri (Giselle) x fem reader

Genre- Fluff, Slow burn

Word count- 3306

A/N: Anon this idea was so cute 😭😭😭 I had a lot of fun writing it!!

The door chimed at exactly 8:43 AM.

Aeri didn’t have to look up to know who it was. The same soft jingle of the bell, the same quiet footsteps, the same pause — just long enough to scan the specials board, even though the order never changed.

She glanced over the espresso machine, steam curling in the air like a sigh. There they were. Headphones on, hoodie up, the collar of a well-worn sketchbook peeking out from under one arm. The same seat in the corner, by the window with the chipped paint and just enough sun to feel like morning was still worth something.

Aeri smiled before she could stop herself. It was the same every day. And she liked that.

“Caramel oat latte?” she called gently, already reaching for the oat milk.

A small nod. No words, just that little half-smile you always gave her — polite, maybe grateful. Maybe something else she couldn’t quite name.

As she steamed the milk, Aeri glanced toward them again. Your pencil moved fast, but your eyes were soft — focused. Some days they drew furiously, like the paper was holding secrets they needed to rip out. Other days, like today, it was slow. Careful. Maybe a little sad.

She poured the latte, added a bit of caramel drizzle (extra, just because she felt like it), and used the foam to draw a little heart. Not that you’d notice. Probably.

Still, she handed the cup over with both hands. “Here you go.”

They took it, fingertips brushing hers for a heartbeat too long. Aeri froze — but they were already walking away.

She watched you settle in, open your sketchbook, curl their hands around the warm cup like it meant something more than caffeine. And for the first time since opening Solstice, Aeri wished she had the courage to ask someone why they looked so lonely.

You didn’t mean to brush her hand. Honestly.

But the cup was warm and her fingers were warmer, and for just a second, you forgot about the way your thoughts had been fogged over all morning. The way you hadn’t slept. The way the sketch you started last night was still unfinished — just like every other one of her.

You sat down in your usual corner, the light filtering through the windows and spilling across the page like watercolor. You liked this seat. You liked the quiet hum of the shop, the way the air smelled like cinnamon and espresso, the soft indie playlist she always had running low in the background. Some mornings you swore she changed it just for you — like she could read the weather behind your eyes.

You lifted the cup to your lips. The caramel was stronger today. Sweet, like a kindness you didn’t know how to ask for.

Your fingers hesitated over your pencil.

You tried not to look up too often, but she was behind the counter, wiping it down, talking softly to another customer, her hair tied back in a way that made you want to sketch the curve of her jaw all over again.

God, you were being weird.

You dropped your pencil.

She looked up.

Your eyes met.

And for a split second, you both froze — like the moment between inhale and exhale, before something real slips out. Her gaze held yours, not in the way strangers do, but like she knew. Knew something about you without needing to hear it. Or maybe she just saw the tired behind your smile.

You looked away first.

The pencil rolled off the table and onto the floor.

Before you could reach it, she was already there, crouching beside you.

“Here,” she said softly, holding it out. “You okay?”

Two words. That’s all.

But no one had asked you that in days. Maybe longer.

You took the pencil, nodded. “Yeah. Just… long week.”

She hesitated, then smiled — slow, gentle, like honey stirred into tea.

“Well, if you need a little extra comfort…” She tapped the side of your cup. “I may have overdone it on the caramel.”

You laughed — quietly, but real.

It wasn’t much. But in that tiny corner of the world, it felt like a start.

_____

The bell above the door jingled again, and Aeri stood as you murmured a quiet thank-you, sliding the pencil behind your ear. She gave a small wave before turning back to the counter, helping the next customer like nothing had happened — like your heart hadn’t just lurched a little out of rhythm because of her voice, her smile, the gentle care in her question.

You stared at the steam rising from your cup.

You shouldn’t be here this often. You told yourself that weeks ago — maybe months now. But there was something about the way this place felt like exhale. Like silence that didn’t need to be filled. And her — Aeri — with her half-lidded focus and little scribbles on the to-go cups and playlists that felt like memories, even the ones you hadn’t lived.

Your pencil hovered again.

You told yourself you’d stop drawing her. It felt invasive, like peeling back something sacred. But you couldn’t help it. You didn’t draw the whole of her, not really. Just the way her hair curled at the ends when it rained. The shape of her hands around a mug. The crease in her brows when the espresso machine hissed too loud. The moments in between.

So you sketched her now — from memory, not daring to look up again.

Aeri, reaching for a coffee tin. The sunlight warming the bridge of her nose. Her eyes not quite sad, not quite at peace.

You barely noticed the time pass until the clock above the window struck 10:07.

You blinked. Two hours?

You started to pack your things in a hurry, suddenly aware of how long you’d been lingering. The sketchbook closed with a soft thud, but in your rush, you didn’t notice the corner of a page still peeking out — or that it had slipped just a little out of your bag when you stood.

You turned back toward the counter, intending to wave goodbye — maybe say something, anything more than you usually did.

But she wasn’t there.

Instead, she stepped out from the backroom at just the wrong (or right) moment. Her eyes fell to the floor near your chair. To the page.

To her face.

Your sketch.

She bent down slowly, fingers brushing the edge.

You froze.

She lifted it with both hands, studying the soft pencil lines, the shading you’d done without even thinking — the way her eyes looked just a little wistful, the tiny smile that wasn’t quite the one she wore for customers.

She looked up.

You opened your mouth to explain. To apologize. To say something.

But Aeri only said this, voice calm, curious:

“Is this… me?”

You froze.

Your brain short-circuited.

Your mouth, apparently detached from said brain, sputtered before it could come up with anything even remotely coherent.

“I—what? No, that’s not— It’s not you, it’s just… uh, kind of a coincidence? I draw lots of people. Like, random faces. Shapes. Mugs. Baristas. You know, normal coffee shop stuff.”

You winced. Normal coffee shop stuff? What did that even mean?

Aeri blinked, tilting her head just slightly, eyes still on the sketch. “You draw mugs that look like me?”

“No! I mean—no, not look like you— I just—”

You snatched the sketch from her hands faster than you meant to, fingers brushing hers again in the process. Her skin was warm. Why was her skin always warm?

“Sorry,” you muttered, shoving it back into your bag like it was radioactive. “Didn’t mean to leave that out. Wasn’t done. It’s not important.”

She smiled. And not in the “ha-ha this is funny” way — it was softer than that. Almost amused. But gentle.

You turned on your heel before she could say anything else, the bell over the door chiming as you shoved your way out of Solstice like it had suddenly caught fire.

Outside, the air was cooler than you expected. You let out a long breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.

And then the rant began — the one in your head that always came when you did something utterly, catastrophically you.

This is why you don’t talk to people. This is why you don’t draw in public. This is why you don’t go to cafes. You don’t even like coffee. You started drinking it just to stay awake during deadlines, and then somehow you ended up here. Every. Single. Day. Why? For the vibes? No. For the barista.

You groaned aloud, dragging a hand down your face as you walked.

And she saw the drawing. Of her. And you lied like a total idiot. “It’s not you, it’s a mug.” Really? That’s the best you could come up with?

You crossed the street.

You’re never going back there again. You’ll find a new café. Or better yet, just quit coffee. Go cold turkey. Live a clean, caffeine-free, embarrassment-free life.

You slowed your pace.

…Except you did like that latte today. And the light in the window. And her smile.

You sighed.

God. You’re totally going back tomorrow, aren’t you?

_____

The bell chimed again, softer this time, almost hesitant.

You stepped inside Solstice, your heart doing that weird flip-flop it always did around Aeri — the one you’d promised yourself you’d ignore but never really could.

Aeri looked up from behind the counter, her eyes meeting yours instantly. No surprise. No judgment. Just that calm, quiet warmth that made the shop feel like a safe place — even when you wanted to run.

“Morning,” she said, voice like a soft melody, the kind you didn’t realize you’d missed until you heard it again.

You swallowed hard, sliding onto your usual stool by the window. The one where the light hit just right, and the world seemed quieter.

“I… uh, wanted to say sorry about yesterday,” you said, fingers curling nervously around the rim of your empty cup. “I didn’t mean to be weird.”

Aeri’s smile grew just a little — not mocking, not pitying, just real.

“Hey,” she said, leaning forward slightly, “it’s okay. I’m glad you draw. And… it’s not the worst thing, being a muse.”

You laughed, a little breathless.

“Yeah, well, I’m not usually a very good one.”

She tilted her head. “You’re doing fine.”

You glanced down at your lap, cheeks heating. The shop felt smaller somehow, like the space between you was filled with something unspoken but powerful.

“So,” she said, nodding toward your sketchbook bag, “more drawings?”

You hesitated. Then nodded.

Aeri’s smile softened.

“Why don’t you stay a while? I’ll make you your usual.”

You looked up, meeting her eyes again — no words necessary. Just a promise that maybe, this was where you belonged.

You pulled your sketchbook out carefully, as if it might shatter under the weight of the moment.

Aeri moved behind the counter with practiced ease, the familiar hiss of the espresso machine filling the soft silence between you.

The caramel oat latte arrived soon, warm and fragrant, just the way you liked it.

You traced the rim of the cup with your finger, feeling the smooth glaze beneath your skin.

Aeri sat down on the stool beside you — closer than usual, but not too close.

You caught the faintest scent of vanilla mixed with something crisp and fresh, like early spring mornings.

“Want to show me what you’ve been working on?” she asked quietly.

Your eyes flicked up, then back down, unsure.

But Aeri didn’t press. She simply smiled, patient and kind.

You opened the sketchbook, revealing pages filled with delicate pencil lines—half-finished portraits, small doodles, and then… her.

There she was, captured in graphite: the gentle curve of her smile, the way her eyes softened when she thought no one was watching.

Aeri’s gaze softened, a blush tinting her cheeks.

“These are beautiful,” she whispered.

You swallowed, heart pounding.

“Thanks,” you said, voice low.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Outside, the city buzzed faintly, but inside Solstice the world felt still, wrapped in warmth and possibility.

Aeri reached out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead.

“Maybe next time, you could teach me how to draw,” she said with a hopeful smile.

You grinned, feeling the tight knot of nerves loosen just a little.

“Deal.”

_____

Aeri’s small apartment smelled faintly of brewed coffee and old books when you stepped inside. The evening light filtered softly through the curtains, casting warm golden patches on the wooden floor.

“You sure you don’t mind?” she asked, handing you a sketchpad and a pencil. “I don’t usually have customers over, but… this feels different.”

You smiled, heart already speeding up. “It’s perfect.”

She settled beside you on the floor, knees tucked close, watching your every move with curious eyes. You showed her how to hold the pencil just right, how to see the lines that make up a shape, not just the object itself.

“Here,” you said gently, guiding her hand over the paper. “Try drawing the coffee mug.”

Her fingers trembled slightly as she traced light lines. You could tell she was nervous — or maybe just unfamiliar with letting herself be a beginner.

“It’s okay,” you said softly. “No pressure.”

She laughed quietly, the sound warm and real. “I’m definitely better at making coffee than drawing.”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” you said. “Including me.”

Minutes passed, the world shrinking to pencil strokes and shared glances.

When she looked up, her eyes caught yours — a little brighter, a little softer.

You felt your throat tighten.

“Can I tell you something?” you asked.

Aeri nodded, heart open and steady.

“I didn’t just come here for the coffee,” you confessed, voice barely above a whisper. “I come because… well, because of you. You’re the reason I keep coming back.”

Her breath hitched, cheeks flushing a delicate pink.

“I thought maybe you already knew,” she said, voice trembling just a bit. “Because I keep hoping you’ll stay a little longer. And maybe, so do I.”

You reached out, brushing your fingers against hers. The simple touch said everything words couldn’t.

The sketchpad lay forgotten between you, but the lines you’d drawn tonight — the ones connecting your hearts — were clearer than anything on paper.

Your fingers lingered against hers, warm and steady.

Aeri’s breath was soft, her eyes searching yours like she was trying to find the words you couldn’t say aloud.

“I’ve been scared to say anything,” she admitted quietly, “because what if it changes everything? What if it’s just me hoping for more, and you don’t feel the same?”

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips.

“No,” you said firmly. “It’s not just you. I’ve felt it too. Every time I come here, every time I see you smile — it feels like a place I want to belong.”

She reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, her touch feather-light.

“Then maybe we should stop pretending it’s just coffee and sketches,” she said, voice warm and sure. “Maybe it’s something… more.”

Your heart thrummed in your chest as you nodded.

“Yeah,” you whispered. “Something more.”

Outside, the city lights began to twinkle like tiny stars, but inside Aeri’s apartment, the only light you needed was the one glowing between you.

You both smiled, the quiet promise of beginnings settling softly like the last lines of a perfect drawing.

_____

The next morning, you woke up with a fluttering in your chest — that unmistakable mix of nerves and excitement. Today wasn’t just another trip to Solstice. Today was your first official date with Aeri.

You dressed carefully, fingers lingering on your sketchbook as if it were a talisman. You’d scribbled little hearts and reminders in the margins the night before—hope and nerves tangled together in pencil lines.

Arriving at the coffee shop felt different now. The usual comforting hum of espresso machines and soft music was suddenly charged with possibility.

Aeri greeted you with that warm smile you’d come to crave. “Hey,” she said, eyes bright. “Ready?”

You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. “Yeah. I am.”

She led you out the door, holding your hand just a little tighter than before.

The city around you buzzed with life, but the world shrunk to just the two of you — walking side by side toward the little park a few blocks away, where the trees were just beginning to bloom.

You found a quiet bench, and Aeri pulled out a small sketchpad and pencil from her bag.

“Your turn,” she said with a grin.

You laughed, heart full. “Okay, but only if you promise not to laugh.”

She shrugged playfully. “Deal.”

For the next hour, you took turns drawing the city, the trees, each other — sharing stories and laughter between sketches, the nervousness melting into something warm and easy.

When the sun began to dip low, casting golden light over everything, you realized this was just the start. Of something real. Something worth holding onto.

And as Aeri’s hand found yours again, you knew you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

_____

Days passed, and you and Aeri settled into a comforting rhythm. Mornings filled with lattes and sketches, evenings with quiet talks and shared secrets. It felt like the start of something you’d been waiting for without even realizing it.

But life, as it often does, decided to test that newfound comfort.

One afternoon, you arrived at Solstice to find Aeri looking distracted, a shadow behind her usually bright eyes. The shop felt quieter somehow, the usual warmth muted.

“Hey,” you said gently, setting down your sketchbook.

She forced a small smile. “Hey.”

You hesitated, then asked, “Everything okay?”

Aeri sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s just… work stuff. The shop’s been busier than ever, and I’m feeling stretched thin. I’m worried I’m not giving you—or this—the attention it deserves.”

You reached across the counter, taking her hand in yours. “Hey, we’re in this together. You don’t have to carry it all alone.”

She looked at you then, really looked, and the tension in her shoulders softened.

“I’m scared,” she admitted quietly. “Scared I’ll mess this up. Scared of losing what we have.”

You smiled, squeezing her hand. “We’re not perfect. But that’s okay. We’ll figure it out, one day at a time.”

For the first time in days, Aeri laughed—a genuine, light sound that filled the room.

The sun streamed through the windows, casting long, hopeful shadows across the floor.

And in that moment, you both knew that whatever came next, you’d face it side by side.

_____

The evening had slipped into a soft, comfortable silence. The two of you lay tangled on Aeri’s couch, the world outside fading away with each slow breath.

Your head rested on her shoulder, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your arm — a gentle rhythm that matched the steady beat of your heart.

The sketchbook sat forgotten on the floor, pages splayed open like little windows into your shared moments.

Outside, rain began to patter softly against the windowpane, but inside the apartment, it felt warm and safe, wrapped in the quiet presence of each other.

Your eyelids grew heavy, but you didn’t want to move. Didn’t want to break the peaceful closeness that had blossomed between you.

Aeri’s breath deepened, and you felt her relax even more beneath you.

“Sleep well,” she whispered, voice thick with tired happiness.

You smiled, voice barely audible. “With you, always.”

And as the room grew darker, your fingers intertwined, and you both drifted into dreams — together, finally home.

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daiourage · 3 months ago

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TFO Other Prime AU (Concept #9: Design, Relationships)

[The rest of the AU!]

As always, press/click for quality!

1. ...Here's me also wanting to pimp out the Primes' friends. I gave Bee wings since he doesn't have them in One, and I gave Elita some bling since she deserves something special as well. When Bee gets his cape is when he gives the bandana back to Soundwave. 2. Other Prime is definitely in charge of making sure neither him nor Optimus are late to meetings. 3. Have Zeta and Starscream together. Crackship initially but now I'm invested. I've watched One 8 times with my mom (twice in Japanese) and twice by myself--we're matching each other's crazy istg... Also the pose is based on how cozy @/energ00n draws Zeta Prime because have you seen the way they draw him??? He is SO pretty and gentle looking (won't tag them bc it's the second time I'm making this post). I've kept his hands white because I want y'all to be able to see their hands. I've worked too hard on them for this being a bundle of concept sketches LMAO 4. Maybe Starscream and Sentinel used to be friends at some point, then Sentinel started to change? Either way, I thought it would be interesting if Sentinel turned into a sort of "don't speak out of turn" type of meeting regulator and when Shockwave would eventually blurt out something because he thought of something as unfair... Sentinel ordered his mutilation as punishment. 5. Speaking of, I decided to make Shockwave look like his SG self but with a little bit of red so him and Soundwave match like they did in SG!!! 6. If you've read my memo on the concept page, ignore the comment about just Other Prime being considered conventionally attractive. Both Primes probably are but I'd like to think that magazines with Other Prime on the cover run out faster than ones with Optimus on them. Something about his big build contrasting his pretty face, maybe! 7. I'm still having trouble designing the Primes and their friends alsdjkfajslkdfj;;; I want the balance of the gold to be good and not overdone like Sentinel so I'm trying my hardest to bling them out as softly as possible. The location of the gold on Other Prime's helmet and the amount of embellishment regarding Optimus are points I'm having trouble with;;

⚠️Deja vu warning!⚠️

Concepts #3~#10 are all drawings I've uploaded before, but I deleted the original post because it was an intimidating wall of text lmao. So, I've decided to repost all of my drawings but separately, because I want to show the concept sketches(?) I worked on in between breaks from doing schoolwork.

(Also because I want to post my own art but I can't since I'm recording music rn)

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peppertw-uwu · 3 months ago

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YEEEESSSSS LET'S GOOOOO

Finally, I finished this page 💥💥

Drawing in the night is always wonderful ✨

I guess I'm glad how this turned out, I tested many pallets and colours to find favourite ones (for future works as well thehe) ><

Small note:

1) here I drew the hairstyles in an older style, so they differ from the previous sketches

2) I know that Emma has green eyes, but for convenience I made them orange, don't hit me with slippers for this–)

I feel how I overdone with my RayEmma hyperficsation, I think I should slow down a little bit haha– (I love them too much ughhh💥💥)

Anyway hope you like this page, for now bye bye!! ><

P.S.: fan fact about part with umbrellas: I kinda wanted to repiete one scene from artbooks where were also umbrellas, but I realised that my skills with watercolor still not that good :_D

P.S.S: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SO MANY LIKES AND REBLOGS HOLLY MOLLY SORRY I DIDN'T MENTION THAT LAST TIME BUT THANK YOU THANK YOU 💖💖💖💖💖

#I'm still exploding every time I see them #love them so much 💥💥#tpn #the promised neverland #tpn emma #tpn ray #rayemma #tpn fanart #fanart #watercolour art #sketch

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fortunxa · 4 days ago

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Do you think au powder is comphet or just bi

With me saying that actually it kinda reminds me of something Elena Gilbert says in the vampire diaries? 😭😭😭 which is something like “her basically feeling pressured in way because of their history and their family’s in a way expecting it because boy!!! Girl!!! they are soo gonna be with eachother because of childhood bestfriend trope or wtv.. and also she felt as if she owed it to him because of their history”

But that’s stupid to compare the situations I guess idk I feel stupid

ALSO girl girl childhood best friends to lovers is more unique than boy girl AND boy boy because two girls can kiss in front on someone and people would think their straight also the term “girlfriend” to describe just a friend sometimes for girl.. boy girl is just expected and happens a lot!! And boy boy two boys could hug and people would call them gay

Sorry for the lack of punctuation and grammar (none) in general this needed to get out there

woah i read this when i woke up at the ass crack of dawn and had to reread a few times for it to sink in properly but i think i have an answer now. BIG YAP AHEAD ‼️

Powder’s sexuality will always be open to interpretation, and whether or not she’s comphet is a bit harder to tell. recognizing if someone is experiencing compulsory heterosexuality is tricky because it’s something that often happens subconsciously. since we don’t have access to Powder’s direct thoughts regarding Ekko, i won’t be able to provide a clear-cut answer for that.

but in my opinion (and don’t hate me for this), she didn’t seem comphet (i say this basing myself on proper visuals only). god knows how i feel about main timeline t*meb*mb, but Powder did seem happy with Ekko in the AU episode. we see it in the sketches, the subtle tells throughout her hideout, the way she interacts with him, etc.

yes, the boy/girl childhood friends to lovers trope is starting to feel less like romance and more like a script. it romanticizes familiarity over genuine attraction (“i must love him because i’ve always known him” and attachment ≠ attraction). it offers a convenient, comfortable path to heterosexuality, framing it as the natural next step and thus delaying/erasing queerness. the “best friend becomes boyfriend” pipeline is so good at hiding queerness behind safety. it tells you that if you wait long enough, the ‘right’ kind of love (read: heterosexual) will just click into place. no space left to question, no room to unravel—just comfort mistaken for desire. and for a closeted queer person, that path is tempting, because once you start asking the hard questions, your whole world can shift. it’s easier to fall for the story that’s already been written for you.

[side note for the “i owe it to him” part: boy/girl childhood friends to lovers trope often feels like a transaction. “i’ve invested years into that friendship, now it has to become romance.” or “he’s been good to me, so this must be what love is.” comphet dressed up as loyalty. obligation dressed up as fate. it convinces you that emotional labor = romantic debt.]

so, is the boy/girl childhood friends to lovers trope inherently bad? no, but it is overdone at times and it can be a trap for people navigating comphet. it’s kind of the comphet’s perfect disguise when that trope is considered the default.

that being said (and going back to Powder and Ekko): it doesn’t seem like that was the case here, but with all the subtleties in relation to experiencing comphet, it also wouldn’t be a reach. they grew up side by side, he’s always been there, and they care about each other deeply. will we ever actually know if Powder is comphet, though? no, unless we have full access to her personal thoughts (which i don’t see happening).

bonus regarding the girl/girl childhood friends to lovers trope you mentioned and the contradiction with the boy/boy one:

girlhood is deeply homoerotic by default, but never really allowed to be gay. girls grow up sharing beds, holding hands, kissing each other on dares, calling each other soulmates, and it’s all brushed off as “just friendship.” emotional intimacy and even physical affection between girls is normalized to the point of invisibility. there’s so much plausible deniability. girl/girl closeness is encouraged, even fetishized (i’m looking at you, porn addicts). so when two girls actually fall in love, or one starts questioning? it’s way harder to tell what’s real and what’s been packaged as ‘harmless’ intimacy. comphet lets it thrive by never taking it seriously—the girl/girl childhood friends to lovers trope hits different because it exposes that. it’s about realizing that the thing you were told was ‘just friendship’ was actually everything and no one noticed. not even you.

meanwhile, boy/boy friendships are policed the opposite way. two boys hug and it’s instantly, “haha, that’s gay” (just like you said). there’s no room for softness, no ambiguity. if they fall for each other, it’s a rebellion against hyper-visibility and stigma. boys grow up terrified to express tenderness because even platonic closeness gets sexualized, mocked, or punished (contrasting with girl/girl friendships). there’s no space to explore softness, let alone queerness QUIETLY. when two boys do fall in love, the world already suspects it—but they’ve been taught to fear it. the boy/boy childhood friends to lovers trope never got the luxury of hiding in plain sight like the girl/girl one.

it’s not that one trope is better than the other—it’s that queerness shows up differently depending on how society treats affection, and both suffer under the same system: heteronormativity punishes boys for closeness and disguises queer girlhood as innocent play.

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