#so now i’ll just ink random drawings

[prettyyoungandbored]

saw you wrote for Charlie and I desperately need to read Charlie fanfics that aren’t my own. So here I am, being that girl, who is requesting a Charlie x FemReader in college. I was thinking that they’re in the same class and Charlie thinks she’s beautiful and tries to work up the courage to ask her on a date. Nothing crazy, just something fluffy and sweet ❤️

M’am, you helped really ignite my love for Charlie Dalton with your brilliant work so I am truly honored by this.

I hope you love it!

Doodles - Charlie Dalton

Pairing: Charlie Dalton x Fem!Reader

NOT MY GIF

For as long as he could remember, Charlie always opted to sit in the back row of every class he ever attended. He loved that it gave him a chance to drift off when needed.

It was no different when he attended Harvard University.

He took a seat and opened his notebook, ready to doodle for the next hour and a half. Just as he reached for his pencil, the damn thing fell on the ground.

He leaned down to grab it when another pair of hands got a hold of it first. His eyes trailed up the hand and he found himself eye-to-eye with her.

Her being the girl who sat next to him. When she took the seat next to him on the first day of class, he thanked whatever higher being there was for giving him the opportunity. But just as he went over to talk to her at the end of class, she’d left.

Before every class he’d promised himself he’d talk to her. Talking to pretty girls had always been easy for Charlie. He’d never had a problem talking to girls.

Why is she any different? he thought to himself.

The answer came on the second day of class when she giggled at one of his doodles and suddenly, Charlie felt like the king of the world.

In the next couple of classes, he would doodle something and she’d smile or giggle. Sometimes it was a characature of the professor, other times it was just random doodles.

And yet, he’d never uttered a word to her, nor she him.

Until now.

“Can’t draw without your pencil,” she chuckled softly.

The fact she was smiling at him made him lose his breath. For the first time in his life, Charlie didn’t feel worthy of a pretty girl’s smile.

He took the pen, trying to hide his own smile. “No I can’t.”

She took the seat beside him as he stared off, excitement brewed inside. She’d noticed him. She probably did only because she was curious as to why he stared at her from the corner of his eyes.

He wasn’t sure why but something inside of him - maybe it was the old Charlie - told him to seize the opportunity.

So, while the professor droned on and on, Charlie was busy conjuring up a way to ask her out. Then he realized his answer - a doodle. But it needed to be good enough to get her to say yes.

That’s when he started drawing a flower. He tried with a rose first but it proved to be a difficult task. Rose petals were not his strong suit.

So he started on asters. Asters had to be easy right?

Wrong. Again, petals were his worst enemy as his aster pedals looked like hot dogs.

He moved onto cosmos and started to get somewhere. He sighed in relief. He was finally getting somewhere.

That’s when he saw a folded note on his desk. He picked it up and in cursive handwriting it read, “No boob drawings today? Are you ok?”

He looked over at her and she smiled at him. He smiled back and mouthed, “you’ll see.”

He continued on with his cosmos flowers until he felt it was enough.

Now it was time to bring it home with the question. What could he write to make this girl go out with him?

That’s when it hit him.

=================================

As Y/N gathered her stuff at the end of class, she noticed a folded piece of paper on her desk. On it was a handwritten note.

OPEN ME.

She opened it to find a bunch of flowers sketched out all over the lined paper. Then, in the middle of the page in red ink, it read:

I suck at drawing flowers, but I’ll have some real ones for you on Friday night. Meet me at the library at 7 pm.

[silentwhispofhope]

*Limping to your request box* I MISSED YOU AND I WANT TO GIVE YOU AN IDEA FILLED WITH FLUFF!! Is it okay to request?

💞[Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU]✍️ 🖌️ - Reader is an artist and constantly draws many art in their skin because it's just so satisfying! Their soulmate Vash feels appreciated, in love, and beautiful whenever Reader's drawing appear on his skin. Their art just gives him a reason to love his skin despite skin scars 🥺 🖋️ - Reader does calligraphy, and they sometimes quote the bible doing it cause why not? Soulmate Wolfwood just looks with a soft, maybe teasing smile as he sees his soulmate's work. 😎 📜 - Reader is a poet and they randomly have ideas and prompt all throughout the day, so they grab a pen and start writing all the poetry from their head. Soulmate Knives who's intellectual and curious admires whenever his soulmate's writing appear on his skin, he just covers it from others eyes because pest don't deserve to see this beauty. 🌱

YOU CAN PICK TWO OUT OF THE THREE!! IT'S YOUR CHOICE MY FRIEND!!! 😍💝💌

- Sugar Plum Anon 💟

A/N: Just for you Sugar Plum Anon, I’ll do all three <3 I do hope you’re alright though! Please do stay safe! Since I’m doing all three, I hope you’re alright with headcanons instead of normal lil’ one shots. :)

Skin Writing/Drawing Soulmate AU Headcanons

Vash

He was absolutely scared out of his mind when he first saw the ink appear on his skin. He even went as far as to try to scrub his skin raw, and the ink was still fresh as ever. Poor blondie is wondering how the hell something like this is happening.

Meanwhile, you’re doodling like there’s no tomorrow with your ballpoint pen, tracing the outlines of your veins and doodling smiling faces.

Over time, Vash learns to just accept the random appearance and disappearance of drawings across his body. At the end of the day, it’s like a fun little game to see what’s been sketched on him underneath his turtle neck.

It takes a while for Vash to realize that it’s his soulmate doodles appearing on his skin. Warmth floods his heart each time he thinks of this, causing him to lovely trace the marks across his own skin.

He would laugh sometimes at the sudden ink smear appearing on his skin before new sketch marks appeared, your work hypnotizing him. He especially loved when you used different colors, almost painting his skin like a canvas. Eventually, he makes the move to respond.

So imagine your surprise when you find a poorly drawn flower appear on your skin. Ensue the same panic Vash experienced when you remembered you didn’t draw that.

Wolfwood

Scrubbing his skin did nothing. Seeing the scripture on his forearm made him wonder if he had perhaps gotten too drunk the night before and had gotten a tattoo.

The fancy calligraphy was choice, especially with that proverb. For the lips of the adulterous woman drop honey, and her speech is smoother than oil. Wolfwood decided that there could be worse things etched into his skin from that old religion.

You, on the other hand, were giggling to yourself. Oh, the irony of something appearing to beautiful but naughty. A snort escapes from one of your nearby friends.

He didn’t put anymore thought into it until the next day when the ink disappeared. Lowkey, thought he was super dehydrated for him to imagine that, but nope, even after drinking tons of water, the ink was no longer on his skin.

Cue some praying. He nearly has a heart attack when more ink appears on his skin. He has to go back to the orphanage and ask the elders for help on understanding the situation. Turns out it’s a soulmate thing, one which they didn’t even bother to mention until now.

Overtime, he appreciates the calligraphy he appears on his skin, particularly when new motifs appear. Wolfwood liked seeing you test new things and watch as the ink appear on his skin.

However, he was very glad to wear long sleeves when you would write down a particularly dirty proverb like 5:19. He would always end up blushing a bright red like a tomato, a huge contrast to his normal, stoic personality.

Imagine, your surprise when you notice fresh ink on your skin. For your ways are in the full view of the LORD in basic script.

Knives

He almost didn’t see the script appear on his arms, the ink nearly blending into his suit and pale skin. His fingers traced the letters he could make out. Knives immediately knew what this meant, it was his soulmate reaching out- most likely not knowing what was happening.

He tried to ignore it the best he could and kept himself covered with his cloak. Having someone would just drag him down, make it harder to reach his goal of eradicating humanity. However, his curiosity got the best of him.

Taking another look, the bleach blond quickly recognized the letters as chords with their denoted accidentals. Luckily for him, he new how to play. It was child’s play, really.

Meanwhile, your trying to understand how to play different songs only by listening too them. You were too stubborn to look them up, very confident in your ability.

And so it became a pattern for him to decipher your song you had written on his arm. He would spend hours playing the piano, watching the notes on his arm be crossed out and replaced. The composition rarely stayed imprinted on his skin for longer than a day.

Often, Knives would see lyrics being written with the chords. A little artist are we now? His small joke to himself caused a small smile. He would end up humming them, his low voice cutting through the air. It was for the sake of rhythm, he told himself.

Imagine your surprise when you saw a new. mark you knew you hadn’t inscribed into your skin, a word marked out for another.

[vxntagedior]

hi!! i really loved true blood, you write both xavier and comfort so well

i was wondering if i could request xavier with a reader who gets traumatising visions and faints (like wednesday) and he’s always there to help her as she goes down and as she comes to? i really love angsty comfort so this would be wonderful :)

catch you when you fall

summary | your visions are getting much harder for just you to handle

pairing | xavier thorpe x fem!reader

warning | angst, psyhic!reader, trauma,

word count | 472

Psychics ran deep through your family lineage both from your mother and father’s side. As you looked into the branches of your family, you read about what psychic abilities they had, noticing how almost everyone had a different one. 

Since you were a child, you had something called a prophecy, being able to tell and see events in the future. There wasn’t much more you could get from it, your grandmother just told you and your parents that you were able to see into the future, and it wasn’t something you could control whenever you wanted.

As you grew older, your parents thought that Nevermore would be a better place for you to train your abilities and be around peers, you agreeing with them both. You were the only psychic with your particular abilities at the time, learning that once you started to attend Nevermore, you could astral project, having an out-of-body experience sending you into the future. 

Like your prophecies, they were always random and so intense you always passed out after having them. 

Keeping to yourself most of the time, Xavier had caught you during one of your projections. 

Walking out of class, you felt yourself being projected, faltering in your steps, freezing in your spot. He heard about you since you came to Nevermore, introducing him once, expressing he was also psychic in his own way.

But seeing your eyes come back and then seeing them starting to roll back, your body becoming limp, he was able to catch you before you hit the ground. 

His leg couldn’t stop shaking as he sat in the chair next to the bed you laid in, stopping when he saw you shift slightly, fluttering your eyes open.

“You’re awake.” He smiled, “Surprised I’d never see that day.”

You were thankful that he was trying to make you feel a little better. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” He asked. 

“I fainted and you had to help me, and you didn’t need to stay here.” You explained, “I thought I’d have my own powers under control by now.”

“Don't worry about it.” He smiled, “Took me a while to get my psychic powers to be tame.”

Watching him pull out a small pocket notebook, he opened up to a drawing to a caterpillar. Sitting up on the bed, you shifted closer towards him. His hand hovered over the drawing, and you watched as it came to life. 

Your eyes widened, watching it crawl towards the end of the page, moving your arm, letting it crawl up your arm.

Xavier saw the smile on your face, as you touched it softly, the ink disappearing into the air. 

“That’s amazing.” You said in awe, “Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” He smiled, “If you fall again, I’ll just have to be there to catch you.”

[oftenwantedafton]

Marked - Steve Raglan/William Afton x College Student Female Reader

Chapter 1

Rating - Explicit

CW - sexual content

Summary: You’re a freshman college student just trying to make ends meet working at a coffee shop when you meet him: the enigmatic tall man full of secrets that you want to discover.

Also available on AO3

You notice the man late one morning after the breakfast rush has passed.

He’s writing or drawing something on one of the napkins, scowling, biting his bottom lip at random moments, the black coffee and plain donut seated on the table already forgotten. He dismisses your offer of fresh coffee without sparing you a glance, and your eyes catch a glimpse of a mess of diagrams, indiscernable to your novice gaze.

This routine continues for several weeks and then, abruptly, he vanishes from the cafe.

But not from your thoughts.

What is it, precisely, that you find so compelling about him? You drag a cloth over the same spotless block of counter and your eyes lose focus. The fine lines of dark hair on the backs of his hands and wrists. Long ink smudged fingers. The catch of teeth on that lower lip. The way the tidy swathe of dark hair just touched with white at the temples sometimes becomes unruly, falling down the slope of alabaster forehead. Those times he pinches the bridge of his nose after removing his glasses, massaging reddened, indented flesh. Sometimes there are dark smudges beneath his eyes.

His eyes. They are the palest blue you’ve ever seen, nearly crystal. They meet yours sometimes, but never linger.

And then, as if you’ve somehow subconsciously summoned him, he’s there at the counter, waiting. Your eyes snap into focus and you abandon your task, smiling a little unsteadily as you watch him set his car keys on the counter and reach in his pocket for his wallet, a battered brown leather billfold that’s seen much use.

“Hi! Haven’t seen you lately. What can I get you. The usual?”

“No, I think I’ll have an egg and sausage sandwich this morning. And orange juice.”

You enter his order and point to a white rabbit’s foot, the only decorative item on the key ring. “Does that actually work? Like, is it lucky?”

“Hmmm?” He’s distracted already, holding out a ten dollar bill and that’s when you see the buttoned sleeve of his dress shirt raise ever so slightly, exposing scabbed and reddened skin beneath.

“Ouch. That looks painful. Is that why you’ve been away?”

He’s no longer distracted. His eyes bore into yours. “It’s nothing.”

You shrug and nod, the change you’re holding out ignored.

“Keep it,” he says, long fingers closing over the bits of serrated metal and soft charm.

You nod again and swallow, not trusting yourself to speak.

***

The enigmatic customer’s visits are more sporadic now, and you don’t know whether you long for them or dread them. He leaves you feeling flustered, confused, you can’t make small talk or perform even the simplest of tasks, his gaze anvil heavy on your every gesture. You try not to make it obvious but your curiosity is simply too strong. You find excuses to move closer, to catch a glimpse of whatever it is he’s working on, perhaps gain a better view of the injury he’s concealing.

It’s autumn now, raining, and you’re doing second shift as a favor to a coworker. Your bus is late and you shiver, shutting your textbook with a sigh and tucking it back into the confines of your messenger bag, then fold your arms across your chest tightly in an attempt to conserve warmth. It’s too cold to study and you’re exhausted.

A pair of headlights appears and you feel relief, thinking it’s your public transportation home.

But the lights are too low to the ground, you realize as they draw closer. It’s not a bus at all. It’s an old luxury sedan, boxy and oversized, decelerating until it draws even with your position.

You aren’t even surprised when you see the passenger window slide down, see the man from the coffee shop bathed in shadows. Of course this is the kind of vehicle he’d drive, slightly out of fashion like his clothes and hairstyle and glasses.

“Want a ride?”

You accept.

Inside, the car is stifling. The windows fog quickly and he applies the defroster. The dashboard is wood trimmed and there’s an actual cassette player, something you’ve read about but never actually seen in person. The rabbit’s foot dangling from the ignition swings slightly, a bright spot in the darkness.

One hand rests on his thigh, the other on the steering wheel. His limbs are so long, you think, fiddling with the hem of the dress your workplace requires. He positively dominates the space and you feel so small.

“Which direction am I heading in?” His voice is a dry rasp that scratches along your skin, a match strike of sound. You think he doesn’t speak much, existing on an economy of words.

“Downtown.”

He nods, resting an arm on the back of your headrest as he reverses and then turns the car around.

“Thank you. I hope this isn’t too out of the way for you.”

“It’s no problem.” He combs a hand through his hair and then lets it settle back to his leg. His features are softly illuminated by the green glow of the instrument panel as he glances at you. “You’re not from around here, are you?” The words run together in a breathless rush, as if he’d been holding them inside for awhile and cannot wait to be rid of them.

“No, I’m here for college. How did you know?” You don’t think you have any particular accent that would give it away.

He shrugs. “Just a feeling. What are you studying?”

“Nursing, but I’m in my first semester so it’s just general classes for now.” You shift in your seat. It really is too warm, but you think it would be rude to mention it. You feel the first pricks of perspiration tickle your brow as you work up the courage to ask, “What do you do for work?”

“Me? Oh, nothing too exciting. I’m a career counselor.”

You sense the deception immediately. He looks the part, certainly, but there’s no way he’s anything so ordinary. The feverish scrawlings at the cafe alone are proof enough of that. So why lie about it? What was the man hiding?

He looks at you again, longer this time. “Do you think you could handle being a nurse? The sight of blood doesn’t make you squeamish?”

“Not really. I was practically raised on horror movies.” The windshield wiper squeaks against the glass and you recoil.

“Mmm-hmm. Don’t scare easy.” He smirks, shaking his head.

You lift your chin defiantly, determined to prove you’re not so easily shaken. “What is it you’re always drawing?” you inquire boldly.

There’s a long pause. “A project I’m working on.”

“Yes, but what is it?”

“That doesn’t concern you.”

You bristle at his dismissal but let the matter drop for now. He’s definitely keeping secrets. “I’m right next to the pharmacy here. Third floor,” you gesture, signaling for him to pull over.

The streets are nearly empty at this hour, the shops long closed. The rain drums steadily on the roof and you find yourself reluctant to step back out into it.

Reluctant to leave him.

“Do you want to come up? For coffee,” you add hastily.

He smiles, teeth flashing in a predatory grin. “Another time.”

“Ok. Thanks for the ride.” You step onto the damp leaf strewn sidewalk and the chill air breaks the spell. What had you been thinking, taking a ride from a stranger, revealing where you live?

“See you soon.” His voice grates behind you and then he’s gone, tail lights that you can’t help but imagine are the eyes of some hungry beast already fading in the distance.

You don’t sleep a wink that night, tossing and turning, sheets twisting around you. You dream about being back in the car with him, covering the hand draped against his thigh with your own. You unbutton the cuff of his dress shirt, peel back the material and slide fingers along his scarred skin. The healing patterns look almost like a tattoo, a deliberate imprint of something you want to understand.

His flesh is feverish beneath your touch as you explore, first with your fingers and then your lips. He allows it, allows you to caress and kiss and lap at the patterns, growls and squirms, fingers knotting in your hair.

You want his mouth now and you have it, warm and wet against yours. You’re growing bolder, stroking down to his crotch, finding him hard, straining against polyester fabric. You deftly loosen the leather belt strap free from its buckle, unhook the waistband of his pants and tug the zipper down, your goal nearly in reach.

He hisses as you make contact with his erection, scalding and firm, the network of veins throbbing before you find the tip already slick with precum.

Your teeth worry his lower lip as you squeeze and stroke and one hand closes around your throat, mirroring your movements. You can barely swallow, straining to breathe but you love it, enjoy how strong he is, how he holds your life in that one hand.

You thrill at the sound he makes when he comes, moaning against your ear, spilling lava hot over your skin, marking you with his seed.

And then you awaken, drenched in sweat and damp from arousal, clutching your pillow, heart pounding in your chest as you stare into the darkness.

***

It’s Halloween and you’re stuck working but it’s not all bad. Plenty of trick or treaters stop by so you can enjoy their creative costumes and you’ve dressed up a little yourself, wearing a headband of white rabbit ears, painting a dark nose and whiskers on your face, trading out customary nylons for white tights that compliment the pale pink uniform well.

You finish filling a Halloween pail for a boy in a dinosaur costume and then you see him standing there.

He’s staring at you in a new way, as if seeing you for the first time, memorizing every feature. His eyes are hungry, his gaze almost feverish. Something’s happened. He’s…excited?

“Hi! Happy Halloween. Do you like my costume?” You twirl and giggle but the sound dies quickly.

“When can you take a break?” The words are almost a growl.

“Um, I haven’t gone yet actually. Did you want to order or…”

“I’ll be out back.”

You blink, watching him leave. One of your coworkers makes an inappropriate comment, something about a quickie, and you scoff, brushing them off but inside you feel something stir. There have been more erotic dreams, daydreams, fantasies than you’d care to admit. But you don’t think he feels the same way. He can’t possibly. The man is old enough to be your father. He probably is a father, and a husband, though you’ve never seen a wedding band.

But still you go, clocking out and stepping outside, scanning the parking lot and recognizing that ivory antique behemoth in the furthest spot away, next to some hedges.

You find the passenger door unlocked and you lift the chrome handle, heart pounding. Sliding inside, you reach up to take the headband off, feeling silly, but he stills you with a firm touch, fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“Leave it,” he commands, and you obey, hands dropping to your lap after he releases his grip.

The silence is awkward and you struggle fill it. “Are you married?” You hate how pitiful your voice sounds. This is nothing like the confident way your dream self had seduced him. You don’t think you could ever be that brave.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes.” You meet his gaze.

He sighs, tracing the grips on the steering wheel. “Yes, I’m married.”

“Have you…have you done this before? Cheated, I mean.”

His fingers still. “No, I haven’t.”

“Do you even like me? I mean we don’t even know each other’s names and—“

He leans over, leather creaking with the shift in weight as one hand cradles a knee and the other’s thumb forms a barrier over your lips, silencing you mid sentence. The thumb drags down to your bottom lip, the other hand already sliding along one tight clad thigh and then he captures your lips with his own, surprisingly gentle.

“My name’s William,” he whispers, his hand snaking upwards ever so slightly, and then his mouth is on yours again and you never get the chance to tell him your own.

His beard chafes your throat as his kisses trail downward. He’s toying with the waistband of your tights now, fingers tugging elastic.

You want to lose yourself in the moment but you know your time is limited, you’re still on break, you’re at your place of employment and anyone could see what you’re doing.

You fumble for his glasses, tangle fingers in his hair, gasp his name as he tears the thin material impatiently, eager to get at you, your flesh spilling out through the opening, soft and pale. Panties are shoved aside and he’s touching you there, finding you warm and slick and you arch against him. He slides one finger inside and when that’s been fully accommodated he adds a second, thumb stroking your clit, finding a rhythm. You whimper in pleasure, the sound muffled by the mouth that covers yours.

You’ve done this before, been intimate with boys your own age, but it was nothing like this expert touch. It’s better than any of your daydreams. He seems to know exactly what you like, bringing you right to the precipice and sending you tumbling over.

He leans back, bringing his fingers to his mouth and sucking slowly, then reaching for more of your fluids. “Open your mouth.” You taste yourself on his hands, on his tongue as he kisses you again. Your entire body is rag doll limp, your costume makeup smeared. He’s ravaged you, taken you completely apart in mere minutes.

You reach for him, intending to reciprocate the favor but he shakes his head, gently pushing your hands away.

“Later,” he promises.

You re-enter the building through the rear entrance near the dumpsters minutes afterward, slinking into the employee bathroom as quickly as possible. You stare at your disheveled reflection and drag fingers across your swollen lips.

You can still feel his mouth, molten hot, feel calloused fingertips stretching you, taste yourself gifted from his tongue.

He’s marked you, and you’ll never be the same.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Ican I ask about a thirst (this is my first time requesting one)

With either bucky or Spencer reid where they're finally undressing for sex and the reader has a bunch of tattoos, mainly silly, like a fish where the tail is a foot, or a whale tiptoeing on human legs? Giggly laughter? Sweet loving?

this is actually so cute!

(I do thirsts as slightly more in depth ask replies/ chattery suggestive crap. so it’s kinda like im talking to you directly about your idea and running with it)

READER WITH RANDOM TATTOOS.

im gonna go with bucky (sorry spence)

I so love the idea of it being so casual, so like you’re kissing, undressing each other for your first time together. and bc he hasn’t seen all of you before he hasn’t seen all your tattoos. he’s seen ones on your arms and legs/ where clothes don’t always cover. but not all of them

so he’s taking off your top and looking over you and eyes dart across etc. and he’s like “what’s that?” and he’s nodding to the one on your rib

and bc you’re so used to them you forget they’re there. so your like “what’s what?”

and he goes “that. that drawing” and gestures to it. also he’s asking quite sweetly, like he’s intrigued

and you look down and go “oh” and laugh and say about how it’s a jelly fish with crab claws, or a fish with a foot for a tail (like you said) or idk something. and he laughs and then he’s onto asking about the next one. he has no idea what they even are, but so he’s interested. so you explain again how it’s something random

and maybe you’re trying to initiate things sexually again but he’s still amazed by the cute dumb little doodles. and so he asks more about them and it’s all very sweet and cute and you’re both laughing about it while you share stories of them. explaining how some you regret but some you love

maybe he likes how carefree you are and so you’ll balance each other perfectly

LOVE the idea of it being after sex and you’re cuddling in bed and he’s stroking over your arms etc. and maybe bc you’re warm and the ink lines are more raised

so he’s tracing over one, lining the doodle and he has a really cutely confused look on his face. and he’s trying really hard to work it out but he just can’t

so you go “you’re never gonna guess it” and it’s said sweetly and like you’re amused

he’s like “I just can’t figure out what it is”

so you say “I’ll give you a hint” and then say “it’s an animal”

and that just stumps him completely. “an elephant?”

and you laugh and go “sea animal”

“jellyfish?”

and then you give in and laugh when you say it’s “a whale with legs”

and he does one of those “no”s like its disbelief. and he’s chuckling and lining the next one and says “you might as well put me out of misery and tell me this one now. I’ll never guess it” and it happens to be a ‘normal’ one and you go “no, that one’s just a slice of pizza”

and he does his cute laugh and shakes his head. and you hold his hand over a few more and graze his finger over the tats and explain what they are

[idpreferyoudead]

There’s a lot of movies I haven’t seen yet this year because going to the cinema is bloody expensive and you can have a couple of months of nothing grabbing your interest and then suddenly 4 movies come out in the same week and somehow I’m meant to choose which movie I want to see the most? Well last month I didn’t pick Abigail and I’ll admit that was solely on the fact the film was by Radio Silence and the focus was on Melissa Barrera. I thought Ready Or Not was a great film but I hated what they did to the Scream franchise. I haven’t really seen Melissa in anything else but I just hate her character in Scream so much it’s hard to separate her right now. So with Abigail hitting streaming services, I finally gave it a viewing.

Now we all know what this movie is about thanks to the trailer: a little girl comes home from what is presumedly a ballet class, is kidnapped by a group of criminals and she turns out to be a vampire. That is basically the extent of the entire plot. Six completely random crims, where none of them look like the type capable of pulling off something of this magnitude even if it is just glorified babysitting, but it only takes Joey (Melissa Barrera) 30 seconds to prove she’s incompetent for the job when she believes everything Abigail tells her. The second hand embarrassment was real when Joey did this not once, but twice, then stands there saying how smart Abigail is for manipulating them. I feel like Joey would be really susceptible to TV advertising. The kind of person to believe something on wikipedia because nothing on wikipedia is ever wrong – and it is, you should look up the plot to Robert the Doll on there. It’s hilarious but oh so wrong! They all realise this little girl is a vampire and stand around discussing the ways to kill a vamp. Of course, Twilight is mentioned. Garlic, sunlight and holy water are the obvious answers, 2 of which are useless to them at 3:30am barricaded inside a large house but the dumb got dumber when Sammy (Kathryn Newton) runs out of the kitchen with a bag of garlic and she gets a quick lesson on what an onion looks like. I wish I could say the movie gets better, but for me, it didn’t.

Early on with teaser trailers, people were very quick to make comparisons to M3GAN – all because of a young girl and a dance routine – and that’s not much of a comparison. Honestly it’s kind of insulting to compare a Tiktok dance to ballet. Though for a kid that’s been around for a few centuries, I’ll guess ballet is a relatively new hobby for her but her ballet skills are better than whoever was in charge of giving Sammy tattoos. I don’t know what is going on in Hollywood right now where every ‘edgy’ character that exists in a movie must have some of the absolute shittest tattoos that ever existed. The kind of tattoos that look like they were done in your mates crack den with the tattoo gun he bought from Temu. Harry Styles is not the poster boy for how to look cool with tattoos, okay? Just employ someone from Ink Master, they could draw you up something real nice compared to the random black drawings that look like were done with a felt tip pen.

Plot wise I was mostly pretty bored to the point where I started wondering if I should count how many times the word FUCK was said in the movie, because that one word is definitely like 30% of the script. Total overkill, just like that time someone let Chris Rock near a Saw film. Even the way some of them were dying – just fully exploding bloody messes – was straight out of Ready Or Not and didn’t feel very imaginative.

I’m sure to have no fans with this but Melissa Barrera’s acting just doesn’t do it for me. This was just another character I couldn’t stand where she was gullible at every turn while also being holier than thou. Can we normalise not praising a movie just because some actor/actress you’re fangirling over is in it? Let’s raise the bar a little!

Any rating I give this movie is going to Alisha Weir. She pulled off playing a terrified and vulnerable little girl, a vampire child who likes to play with her food and she was definitely the smartest person in the room. Her ability to switch between meek child to ruthless killer and back again makes her someone to watch – I’ll be interested to see what she does in the future!

Lastly, I’m saddened that after hearing ‘Tiny Dancer’ a few times in the beginning, not once was Elton John played in the movie. What a missed opportunity.

[cloud-anon]

Pinned post!!

About Me:

I’m a minor! Do with that what you will- if you don’t feel comfortable interacting with minors then don’t, I won’t judge!

DNI homophobes, racists, misogynists, ableists, etc. you know the drill. Don’t be rude or I will be rude back. If you’re nice I promise I will be too!

I am neurodivergent- highly likely anxiety and depression (according to me and everyone I know) and self-suspected autism and/or SPD. Also auditory processing disorder as fuck (undiagnosed but like it’s so fucking obvious) if I ever talk to you irl you gotta give me a sec

I’m Christian! You don’t have to be Christian to talk or be a moot, just don’t come after me for it lmao. Sometimes I talk about Christianity whether it be a random topic (probably that we’re learning about in school) or my personal experience but check the tags section on this post for that one.

Pronouns:

any at all! He, she, they, ze, zey, xe, play Russian roulette with them I’ll watch delightfully from the sidelines

Edit: I have a pronouns page now because it’s easier than explaining everything fully. Here ya go! That^ still applies though it’s basically that

Side Blogs:

@cloud-anon-does-art where I post art wips and products (I do not do art very often or very well, be warned)

@cloud-anon-does-words where I post fic snippets, WIPs and products (these will be almost 100% sickfics!)

As of August 31 2024 these have not been set up very well. I plan to do that as soon as I finish editing this post

Hobbies:

-writing

-drawing (ish? Not well lmfao)

-singing! (Both choir and for fun)

-softball

-volleyball

Favorites:

Animal- rabbits!

Colour: blue and purple!

Food: any kind of pasta, usually

Song: changes frequently, will not stay updated if I try! If you want to know, shoot me an ask and I’ll tell you what it is at that moment!

Character: same as above but doesn’t change quite as frequently. Any character that I latch onto probably has a sickfic written about them.

Ask me more of my favorites?? I don’t know what else to put lol

Fandoms: (will add to as I remember- these include games, musicals, shows, etc.)

✍️- will write for/have written for

⭐️- has been or is a hyperfixation

📢- will rant about

❗️-currently in

❌- not currently in

~~

Beetlejuice ❌

Bendy and the Ink Machine ❌ (only really know anything about the first game)

Dear Evan Hansen ❌

EPIC: The Musical ❗️✍️⭐️📢 (will rant, but probably only if prompted lol)

Five Nights at Freddy’s ❗️📢⭐️(every game except AR (Special Delivery), VR (Help Wanted) is iffy|working on Fazbear’s Frights, hoping to read other books, have seen movie)

Kirby ❗️⭐️📢(played Epic Yarn, Return to Dream Land, Planet Robobot, Triple Deluxe, want to play Forgotten Land, have watched anime)

Legally Blonde ❌

The Legend of Zelda ❗️✍️⭐️📢(played Skyward Sword, Twilight Princess (and read manga), Majora’s Mask (incomplete), Link’s Awakening, Link to the Past (incomplete), Wind Waker (incomplete), Hyrule Warriors (not DLC), Breath of the Wild, Tears of the Kingdom (incomplete, in progress))

Linked Universe ❗️✍️⭐️📢

Mario ❌ (have played 3D World, Bowser’s Fury, and Super Paper Mario, sometimes play Mario Kart Wii and used to play Mario Kart 8 (it broke) want to play Odyssey)

Newsies❗️⭐️✍️

Pokémon ❗️✍️⭐️📢? (Never played a game in my life, show is in progress)

School Bus Graveyard ❗️

Sonic ❌(kind of?? Not really. Yet)

Tattletail ❌

Undertale ❗️⭐️✍️📢

Undertale Yellow ❗️⭐️✍️📢 (have not seen neutral or genocide routes yet but know quite a bit about them)

Wicked ❌✍️⭐️📢

Tags!:

#cloud speaks: I talk about stuff (numbered list of friends because I talk about them a LOT but don't want to namedrop them (they don't have a specific tag. could tag "cloud's friend misadventures" but I've talked about it so much already without that tag I'd forget to constantly so we're leaving it as is). might start using nicknames at some point as it would make life WAY easier but for now we're sticking with numbers.)

I believe #christian stuff is my tag for when I talk about anything relating to my religion- need to double check this tag (update: I can’t find the post where I said what the tag would be so I can’t confirm it was correct but that’s what it will be from now on)

#cloud does stuff: other tags will fall under this (#cloud watches Pokemon, #cloud plays totk, etc), basically me playing/watching/reading whatever

#cloud sings: I post me singing! Hopefully will happen more often when I have time over the summer

#cloud writes. he does?? he does!: I do writing stuff!

#cloud writes lyrics: I write lyrics. Either to songs that don’t have lyrics or if I’m writing my own song I guess

#cloud does art and #cloud pretends she can do art (latter is not used anymore I don’t think): I talk about drawing/animating/etc

#cloud’s art and #cloud’s words the actual products or WIPs (not me just talking about them). Will also usually be tagged with #cloud does art and #cloud writes. he does?? he does!.

#asks have evaporated to the sky :): asks! Accompanied by #anon ❤️ or #[name] ❤️

Vent posts are tagged #tw vent. Block if uncomfortable.

#cloud’s goodnights are just me saying goodnight to everyone (I try to be consistent with this. I fail, but I try!) same with #cloud’s good mornings

#cloud’s [] misadventures (musical, school, softball, volleyball, etc): just me doing things at practice, musicals, school. The works

#cloud posts random lyrics: this will happen from time to time. Frequency varies!

Probably missing some, will update

Ask games, prompts, reblog games, picrews, and tag games are tagged accordingly!

[pastriibunz]

WELCOME TO THE KAI DREWNIVERSE!

“MONSTERS, MAYHEM, AND GODS GALORE! I’VE GOT IT ALL! TAKE MY HAND, AND I’LL TAKE YOU ON AN ADVENTURE YOU’LL NEVER FORGET!”

hi there!!! im pastriibunz! you might know me from the ask blog, @beaniibunzz i ran with my friends, chillibeanos and local-soda-can!

you might also know me for writing the Kai in Hatchetfield series (KIHF Masterpost), an OC insert fanfic series written like a script for the Hatchetfield Saga!

(PS I have an atabook! Leave me some messages!)

but more on that later, i wanna talk about ME >:]

Basic Info About Me:

☆ i think am aroace! 

☆ i'm trying out she/they pronouns!

☆ i have ADD! My friends keep saying i have undiagnosed autism-

☆ i do theater and i was in voice/singing lessons!

☆ i will be Kai Drew’s VA in TKWDLM: Voiced, as well as any other projects she needs a voice in!

☆ my best friends are @chillibeanos, @local-soda-can, and @evnt777!

☆ i like to draw and write!

And that’s me! i was kinda scrambling for things to add, so forgive me if it’s boring. But, i just wanted to get through it so i could get to the fun part. now onto my blog!! :D

i have a lot to say about this silly little blog!!!

note: my ask box is always open! fill it up with whatever your heart desires!

Things To Note:

★ I was grounded for a month, I’m back, but not without restrictions. I have 3 hours of screen time on weekdays, and 5 hours on weekends. This is subject to change.

★ Mutuals, please use the tag ‘#pastrii don’t look’ for posts with: anything very overtly sexual that isn’t written in a comedic tone. I am a sex repulsed asexual, and that type of content is very icky for me. :< [contents subject to change]

Content You Should Expect From Me:

★ my art, both silly doodles and full pieces!

★ fanfics/drabbles, mostly angst

★ my brain dumpy thoughts i thought were funny

★ oc insert content

notice how that last bullet point is bolded and italicized?

yeah that’s cause it’s super important

practically all the content on this blog will be about my OC: KAI DREW!

now, who is Kai Drew?

and why the hell is she in a shit ton of random fandoms?

well, Kai Drew is the little goober who’s managed to weasel her way into my brain, and 5 years later, she’s STILL. HERE.

she’s also on tumblr as @shxwstxpper!

she has her own silly little lore (to summarize: adoption, accidental mass murder, is god, and then shes inserted into various fandoms im into) that is super long and silly!!! maybe one day ill write about it. who knows!

so expect lots (if not all) of my content to surround around Kai!

speaking of my content…

Important Tags:

⛤ #kai drew 

⛤ #tkwdlm

⛤ #the kai who didn’t like musicals

⛤ #black kaiday

⛤ #bk

⛤ #npmk

⛤ #nerdy prudes must kai

⛤ #the kai drew and bean power hour

⛤ #kai drew and bean power hour

⛤ #kai drewniverse

⛤ #kai in hatchetfield

Kai Drewniverse Related Fandoms:

✰ Bendy And The Ink Machine

✰ Doki Doki Literature Club

✰ Toilet Bound Hanako Kun

✰ Clover 2020

✰ My Hero Academia

✰ South Park

✰ Welcome Home

✰ The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals

✰ Peggy Suave

✰ The Kai Drew And Bean Power Hour!

Non Kai Drewniverse Fandoms:

⛥ Ride The Cyclone

⛥ Chad Chad (Chadlings)

⛥ Danny Gonzalez (Greg)

⛥ Psych

⛥ Drew Gooden (Little Stinkers)

⛥ Kurtis Conner (Kurtistown)

⛥ Jarvis Johnson (Unnamed Fanbase)

Important Links:

✩ TKWDLM Masterpost!

✩ Nightmare Kai-me Masterpost!

✩ Blog Boundaries: Do’s and Don’ts!

and that’s all for now! be sure to stick around to see where Kai’s silly little adventures take her next!

bye bye! :]

[karamell-sweetz]

welcome to my blog!

time to remake my info post :D | last updated 16 september 2024

BASICS

my name is karamell! its a pleasure to meet ya :D

i go by she/her and am cis female :3 not too fussed abt pronouns tho!

at present i am 17, my birthday is the 16th of june. i’m australian + filipino, so sorry if i post something at an ungodly hour for your timezone lmao

this blog will be for my fandom reblogs, art and countless ramblings! i have a separate account dedicated to undertale multiverse content -> @karamellz-multiverse-l0g (i don’t post there a lot because undertale is on the backburner for now!) i’m currently aiming to get into an animation course for university, so all my art is working towards that :3

i am also self-appointed chairwoman of the rui kamishiro fanclub! not that that’s too important… but i like saying it lol

BYF

i don’t tag my reblogs/queue usually so uhh good luck poring through that >< all of my original posts are tagged for convenience though, you can find my tags in the search bar :3

in relation to that i’m VERY multifandom so srry if you get bombarded with stuff that doesn’t relate to you haha! but hopefully you’ll like the stuff i rb too, i’m a firm believer in the power of brainrot spreading and most of my fandoms are from the same niche anyway!

i dont have a dni because realistically i cant rlly control who sees my stuff, but if you or the stuff you post make me uncomfortable i’ll just block you. no hard feelings <3

FANDOMS + FAV LIST

project sekai - rui kamishiro, tsukasa tenma, wxs, n25, okay actually its everyone i love proseka soo much

vocaloid - miku, una + deco*27, n-buna, kikuo, pinocchio-p, inabakumori, picco, harumakigohan, maiki-p

d4dj - unichørd, hapiara, lyrilily

bandori - pasupa, morfonica, hhw, ras

enstars - trickstar, alkakurei

love live - rina tennoji, shioriko mifune, hanamaru kunikida, ruby kurosawa, you watanabe, ayumu uehara

fragaria memories - romarriche

milgram - amane, yuno, mahiru

undertale (utmv) - xtale, ink, murder time trio

danganronpa - shuichi saihara, kaede akamatsu, k1-b0

twisted wonderland - heartslabyul (deleted the game because UGH the grind)

denonbu - harajuku district

revue starlight - lalafin, karen, aruru (i love all of them tho)

cookie run kingdom - had a very minor fling with this one so you won’t see it a lot

genshin impact - also minor fling, have not played past liyue. solely here for the banger character designs

mcyt (idk if i’ll reblog anything from here but i know a little bit of the dsmp lore and am attempting to understand life series??)

other things you may see: lalaloopsy + other doll lines from that era, mlp, warrior cats, cute art i think is nice, lunime gacha games (i was very much a ‘gacha kid’ back in its prime), puyo puyo, writing stuff, THE COLOUR PINK, webcore, memes, cool crafts, yorushika, other teenage girl things idk

TAGS

karamell yells - ramblings and random stuff, may include headcanons and analysis

karamell doodles - my art! mostly fanart at the moment

karamell’s wips - works in progress (stuff i’ll never finish probably)

karamell’s pocket - posts i want to come back to

karamell gaming - random game screenshots

karamell rolls the gacha - my gacha pulls of varying luck

karamell’s mailbox - asks, submissions, tag games, all that fun stuff

karamell’s rq pile - drawing requests (which are always open btw, feel free to send some in if you’d like!)

karamell stop missing the blonde clown - thirsty? brainrot posts about tsukasa tenma because boy do i love him

karamell’s confections - various big projects (videos, edits, etc). all the cool stuff i make that isn’t normal art basically

karamell’s burning pile of ocs - see image below:

(utmv submissions for this will be posted on my sideblog)

UPDATE: the number is now 350 instead of 244!

when in doubt. rui scribble - various random scribbles of rui kamishiro because i like drawing him

karamell asks a question - mostly polls and stuff i need help with

say hi to my sideblog guys - self rbs from my utmv sideblog @/karamellz-multiverse-l0g. just for a little bump! :)

TAGS FOR MINI-SERIES

karamell’s project precure au - project sekai x precure (updates never)

wxs revue au - project sekai x revue starlight (updates randomly)

karamell’s birthday treat cafe - food-themed fandom birthday drawings (on break for a bit)

kamikou seniors trio - tsukasa ena rui posts because i want them to hang out

the mizuruiena agenda continues - mizuki rui ena hanging out

rui dress agenda - rui in dresses what did you expect

rui fanclub sekai - read my blog description. just silly things about a hypothetical rui fanclub

FIND ME!

youtube - karamell-sweetz!

tiktok - karamell.sweetz

pinterest - mirai_spxrk

art fight - karamellxsweetz

FRIEND ID (GLOBAL SERVERS ONLY)

bandori - 4636316 (karamellxshowtime!) (i might be out of friend space tho)

d4dj - ffzoJpPf (mirai.chørd)

project sekai - 168505012555628545 (karamellxshowtime)

enstars - 7709727947 (karamelloid)

starira - 1324761851 (revue.sweetz)

that should be all. enjoy your stay on my silly little corner of the internet!! 🫶

[the-eyes-of-andyserkis]

Bringin' Home the Rain - Chapter 3: "Demons"

Masterlist

Fandom: MCU - Age of Ultron, Black Panther Pairing: Ulysses Klaue x F!Reader Word count: 5.9K Chapters: 3/5 Rating: Explicit

Chapter Summary: You can't stop thinking about Klaue, and after an encounter where you find out he feels the same all you can think about is how you can get him to touch you again.

Warnings: Explicit Rating, Alcohol, Blood and Injury, Minor Injuries, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Age Difference, Masturbation, Smut, PWP, But a bit of Plot if you squint, Dirty Talk, Praise, Teasing, Oral (M! Receiving)

A/N: Well, there's a reason I separated the set up and turned this into five chapters! It was taking longer than expected, but then I remembered that it was more than twice as long as the first two and cut myself some slack. The smut is incoming, so thank you for your patience and your feedback so far, it's been lovely to read!

Title is from the song "Bringin' Home the Rain" by The Builders and the Butchers.

AO3 Link

You're dancin' with your demons baby You forgot your former lie It was hard swimming once And now you're daily diving in

You do end up asking Klaue for something.

Most of the space at the compound is in use, but while wandering around one night when you can’t sleep you find a set of doors leading to an unused tech wing: drafting rooms, large metal and wood shops, and most interestingly to you several smaller rooms each with TIG welding machines - something you haven’t been using very much in your current work - as well a welding table, a tungsten grinder, and built in fume extraction hood. Perfect.

TIG welding would give you a chance to practice your finer detail skills. It’s a technique that requires focus and steady hands, but at the same time you can be creative and “draw” with it, anything from an octopus to random patterns that might resemble a Rorschach test image. This was the other side of the coin of metallurgy, the one that allowed you to focus on the creation and the connection rather than worrying about pure functionality and the end result. 

When you tell your shift lead Tom, a short but very broad Irishman, that you want to get in touch with Klaue he looks surprised and then mildly concerned.

“Everything’s fine!” you assure him. “He just said to let him know if there was anything that I needed and, well, there’s something that I need.”

“Ok, sure, I’ll let him know,” he says, relieved but still uncertain, his expression indicating that he might think that you’re crazy for actively looking to draw Klaue’s attention, and you certainly can’t blame him for that.

Unfortunately, you haven’t been able to think of very much other than Klaue in the two weeks since your last encounter. You thought that maybe after a few days of giving in to the persistent thoughts of him that the feelings would temper, but as it turns out they only intensified. Most nights now, and sometimes mornings (and showers), your mind is drawn to him and your hand finds its way between your legs, though you keep his name clenched firmly behind your teeth.

The skull tattoo visible beneath an unbuttoned collar, muscle and tendon flexing beneath the ink as strong arms pick you up and press you against the wall.

You try to reason with yourself: You know that he’s not the kind of man you should be thinking this way about to begin with, not to mention that he barely touched you, and you have no idea if he even thinks about you at all, so why are you torturing yourself?

It’s not like you’ve never been interested in sex before, you’ve had plenty of good, even great sex. However you’d admit that your experiences tended to be mediocre more often than not, and generally speaking it wasn’t something that was typically front of mind for you. If you weren’t in a relationship sometimes weeks could go by and you’d find yourself barely thinking about it, and when it did happen it felt like it was more about scratching an itch than satisfying any particular need.

You’ve never ached for it before. Not like this.

Fingers curled in your hair, tongue moving relentlessly against yours and you’re unable to hold back the sounds he's drawing from you.

Two days after your request you’re surprised when you sleepily check your morning messages and see one from Klaue. 

You quickly sit up in bed and start typing a reply explaining what you found and what you want to do, and he responds back that that was fine and you could use the tools, but you would have to buy any extra materials and maintain the equipment yourself. Not a problem, you assure him, typing the last message with one hand and wondering how he would react if you sent him a photo so could see what your other hand was doing right now.

Kneeling between your thighs, hovering there for agonizing seconds, waiting for you to beg him.

You clear out several garbage bags worth of debris and old materials from the room, wipe down all the surfaces, and test everything to make sure it actually turns on. Finally you drag a ragged but solid (and very heavy) two seater couch that you found in the metal shop down the hall to complete the space.

The following week all of your new supplies have arrived and you’re spending some time after your shift taking inventory. Your gear is laid out, tungsten welding rods along with nickel, magnesium, and copper filler rods are all sorted, and the base material - your stainless steel canvas - has been cleaned and polished and is ready for you to finally get started during your free day tomorrow. 

You’re trying to decide what kind of design you want to start with when the hairs on the back of your neck prickle with awareness and when you whip your head around you see Klaue leaning against the doorway and watching you with a look that makes your breath catch. 

“Oh, Klaue. Hi, uh, I didn’t know you were back." 

He pushes his shoulder off of the doorframe and saunters into the room. 

“Got back this morning, just here for a couple of days. I wanted to see what all this was about,” he says, gesturing to the table as he comes to stand beside you.

“Ok, sure,” you say, relieved to have something to talk about and to keep your focus off of him. “Well, like I said before I want to work on my detail skills with the TIG welder so that I don’t get too rusty. Plus it’ll give me something to do inside now that it’s getting colder, and I always find it benefits my work all around.”

Klaue looks at the gear and papers that are spread across the table. “And how are you planning to do that?” 

You’re surprised that he actually seems...interested? And it’s been so long since you talked to someone about the craft that you eagerly start explaining.

“Ok, so TIG welding,” you look at him but then immediately look away when you’re see how blue his eyes are, even under the harsh fluorescent lights. “It makes a finer weld seam, and I can use that to create these intricate designs.” 

“And the different alloys make different colors?” He indicates the rows of filler rods you have lined up on the table. 

“Yes, exactly. Also some are shiny and some have more of a matte finish. Before you got here I was just debating if I wanted to start with a specific design or go with something more abstract and just kinda wing it,” you shrug. “That would probably be better since it’s going to be a mess to start with anyway, at least until I get the rhythm of it again.”

Klaue moves behind you, reaching around your body for the stack of designs and rifling through them. He stays close to you though, close enough that in the cool air of the room you can feel the warmth of him and your body is reacting swiftly, heat building with a throb between your thighs and you have to concentrate to keep the tremor out of your breath. 

He picks out a swirling design that emulates the plumes of waves crashing together. Or maybe flames.

“Like this?” Klaue’s voice is rough and low and it goes straight to your center. You're so keyed up that the sound of it combined with his proximity causes something in your brain to short circuit, and it’s involuntary when the muscles of your cunt clench and then your back is arching with a reflexive roll of your hips. 

It’s then that you find out how close he actually is when your ass makes contact with the front of his pants. You mindlessly revel in the sensation for a split second before realizing what you’ve done, and then you gasp and pull away in shock.

“Oh god, I’m sorry- '' you start to fumble out an apology but suddenly Klaue’s hands are on your hips, pulling you back against him, and you can feel it when he groans. Pushing you forward he traps you between the table and his body and when you feel the stiffening length of him pressing into your ass it’s your turn to moan as you lean back into him, unable to stop your hips from rolling again in response.

Your back is flush with Klaue’s broad chest and he presses his face into your neck, nosing into your hair. Hot puffs of breath torture your skin while his hands keep a bruising grip on you, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips.

“You’re going to drive me fucking insane.” he growls.

“I am??” you gasp. “You’re the one- !” You try to turn around to face him but he pushes you roughly back against the table with a rattle of metal and holds you in place, your own hands flying up to brace yourself against the weight of him.

“Yes”, he hisses against your ear. “Since the night you walked right up to me in that bar. You know I saw you as soon as I walked in? All alone,” he tsked. “Saw you staring at that other table, as if any of those men - those boys,” he spits out the word with disdain, “could give you what you need.” 

His hands leave your hips to brush up your sides, gathering up the hem of your shirt so that his fingers can find your skin beneath it. The metal of his rings is cool but his fingers seem to scald you and you’re sure they must be leaving behind blackened streaks of ash in their wake; he’s barely touched you and you’re burning.

“Oh?” you say, your voice coy even as you’re becoming breathless, panting at his words. “And you think you know what I need?” And, god, it's impossible to imagine at this moment that there's anyone in the world who is less capable of backing down than you.

Klaue growls again and the vibration drives your senses to the edge of reason. He’s rutting slowly and shamelessly against you, the now very hard curve of his erection digging into the swell of your ass. He still has you pinned which is preventing you from finding some relief, some friction of your own, and all you can do is squeeze your thighs together to try to ease some of the desperate ache that’s building deep in your belly.

“Yes, I think I fucking do, darling- “

Before he can say anything else you hear voices coming from down the hallway. Klaue suddenly pulls away from you and you find that you’re almost frantic at the loss while still trying to process that “darling”.

“Boss?” says David, standing in the doorway and looking between the two of you. He must be able to see how flustered you are, flushed and wide eyed, but mercifully he makes no outward indication that he notices. “The Minister is almost ready. Line three in your office.”

You finally dare to look at Klaue, dark eyed and disheveled and hanging onto his control by a thread. You desperately want him to stay, want to grab onto him for dear life and beg him to fuck you until you can’t breathe.

But he doesn’t and you don’t and he finally turns away without saying anything else and follows David out of the room.

You keep taking deep breaths until you start to calm down, the vibration in your body eventually dispersing to a faint prickle in your extremities. As you breathe you circle back around to something he had said, and at first you're furious because how dare he when he was the one driving you insane. But those feelings are quickly forgotten when your mind finally catches up to what the fuck just happened, followed swiftly by the realization that yes, Klaue has in fact been thinking about you.

If you hadn’t been interrupted how far would it have gone? Would he have bent you over, pushed your pants down around your thighs and bruised your hips against the table as he fucked your from behind? He had been so close, thin layers of fabric the only barrier separating you from a shift of his hips and the relief of his cock sinking into you.

That night is the first time his name slips off your tongue on a shaky moan when you come. It’s also the first time that it leaves you wanting, your own touch not enough now that you know the feeling of his hands on your skin, now that you know the way his cock feels grinding against you, thick and so fucking hard

You’ve tipped over the edge, you had a while ago in fact, and like waking from a half dream with a start you finally accept how long you’ve been falling. All you can think of is Ulysses Klaue and you’re no longer interested in pretending that you don’t, you just know that you really need to find a way to get him to touch you again.

You don’t see Klaue at all the next morning and after lunch you’re back in your workroom and finally ready to get started on the first design, hoping that it will double as a distraction. All of your gear is prepped and you’re checking the pressure on the argon tank when you see a familiar shape in your peripheral. Your heart rate spikes and you immediately straighten up in anticipation before realizing with a sting of disappointment that he’s not alone, there are two other men waiting outside in the hall.

Preoccupied by something on his phone Klaue doesn’t look at you when he speaks.

“I need you to make a run to Bucharest."

You pause in confusion because that was not what you were expecting him to say at all, and it takes you a moment to parse his words.

“It’s a small exchange. My usual people are already occupied with other jobs and this is time sensitive."

You finally clue in to what he’s talking about: this is one of those non-skill related things you were told might be expected of you when you started, and evidently your number has finally come up.

Now, you’ve always convinced yourself that you don’t actually have a death wish, that you just enjoy a good adrenaline rush is all, however you start to seriously question this after what you say next.

“Uh, no.” you reply simply. 

Maybe it's the frustration spilling over from yesterday, or the fact that he’s seemingly so unbothered as if he hadn’t had his cock pressed against you in this exact space less than twenty-four hours ago. Either way you’re so irritated by this interruption that your sense of self-preservation has evidently decided to zip off to another reality. 

"This is my time,” you continue. “I earned it, and I’m not particularly interested in being a ‘gopher’ right now.” 

Well, he’s definitely looking at you now, but other than his eyes searing into yours you receive no other reaction from him, and apparently deciding to ignore your refusal Klaue continues on.

“It should be a four hour round trip, and if you leave now you’ll be back before sundown.” The tone of his voice might sound even but his posture is tense and coiled, and even though you know that you should really take the chance he’s offering you, you just can’t make yourself do it.

“Listen, I work my ass off, I pull my weight around here and then some. I finally have everything ready to go here and I just want to relax for five fucking minutes.” 

A muscle in Klaue’s jaw twitches and he levels his gaze at you, dark salt and pepper curls falling across his forehead. His next words are quiet but no one could miss the simmering threat in them.

“You knew what you signed up for with this job,” his voice is so low that you nearly have to strain to hear him. “Everyone’s all the way in on this and sometimes that means doing what needs to be done when it needs to be done. No questions asked.” 

“But-”

He holds up a hand to silence you, his eyes dark and hinting at the danger that awaits if you continue pushing.

You’re only a few inches different in height but as Klaue squares his shoulders and steps toward you his anger fills all corners of the room, making it feel as though he’s towering over you. As he crosses the boundary into your personal space you force yourself to hold your ground and your nose fills with the scent of sweat and oil and something earthy, like juniper. 

“So even if you weren’t the best person available right now,” Klaue tilts his head down until he’s just inches away from your face. “When I tell you to do something, you fucking do it.”

Your eyelids flutter and you barely manage to suppress a moan as your sex throbs at his words. Staring up at him you’re overwhelmed by the thought that if you rose up on your toes you could easily close the gap between your mouths, however a single sane thought manages to cut through the haze of lust to remind you that he’s waiting for a response. While it doesn’t make you any less pissed off you know that he’s right.

“Fine,” you say curtly. “Whatever you need.”

He hesitates briefly, eyes flicking quickly down to your mouth.

“Good,” he finally says, stepping away. “You’ll need to leave immediately, I’ll send you the location and instructions.”

“Great.” you reply, a false sweetness in your voice.

Almost out the door he stops and turns back to look at you one more time.

“You should be careful, darling.” Klaue says, a dangerous smile playing across his face. “That mouth is going to get you into trouble.” And then once again he’s gone.

“Goddamnit”, you mutter and let out a shaky breath, then gather your things and run back to your quarters to change.

* * * * * * * * * *

You actually enjoy the drive, as much as you hate to admit it. It’s late September and the leaves are already well painted with their fall colours at the higher elevations, but it’s still comfortable enough that you’re able to keep the window down most of the way there, although even the roar of the wind isn’t doing much to muffle your thoughts.

Your entire body feels like a live wire, like he’s still touching you, and god it felt so good when he was touching you. It felt so good to come undone under his hands as he coaxed out something familiar, drawing to the surface the part of you that craves the rush, finding it there in the rock of your hips and then giving you permission to stop trying to tamp it down.

You shake your head to clear it as you arrive at the pickup location, grateful for the distraction. There is some brief tension when they don't immediately recognize you as one of the usual operatives, but once the ringleader confirms who you are things kick into gear, and you’re surprised by how smoothly everything goes. You hand them the sealed manila envelope that you were given, after which several unmarked containers are loaded in the back of the truck.

Once the exchange is complete you text Klaue confirmation as he’d instructed - moments later the other men all look at their phones, and evidently seeing what they want they lose interest and wave you along.

As you’re about to drive away your phone pings with another message and you stop to read it:

“Good girl.”

You make a sound that’s a cross between a laugh and a moan and then rest your head between your hands on the steering wheel. Something you’ve learned about Klaue is that there is nothing unintentional about what he says or does, so you know he did that on purpose. Because he guessed what it might do to you. 

“Yes, I think I fucking do, darling.“

And once again he's right because the thought of his voice speaking those words in a rough whisper against your ear has you burning, no longer shocked by how quickly you’re nearly writhing with arousal.

You don’t have time to wallow, though, the sun is setting and you’d rather not be driving through the mountains in the dark, so taking a breath you throw the truck into gear and turn back onto the road, once again driving with the windows down. The air is getting colder now with the sun close to setting yet it does even less now to distract you than before as his words repeat over and over again in your head.

You really just want to go straight back to your quarters but you still need to clean up the mess you left behind after leaving in a rush. 

Back in your workroom you hastily go to drop your bag and jacket on the couch but instead you get scared out of your wits, gasping comically as you grab your chest when you register the unexpected shape that’s already sitting there.

And of course it’s Klaue, chuckling infuriatingly at your startled reaction.

“What the hell!" you exclaim when you finally catch your breath. "What are you doing here??"

He doesn’t say anything, and after a few moments you gesture a wordless “Well?” 

It’s then you notice that his eyes are focused on your body rather than anything you might be saying. With a flush it occurs to you that other than accidentally getting partially undressed when you were hurt, Klaue hasn’t seen you wearing anything other than your work clothes since you got here, only ever the heavy and shapeless garments meant to protect you when you’re welding. Seeing you now in just the black leggings and fitted Henley you’d changed into before leaving for Bucharest seems to have caught him off guard.

After brazenly dragging his gaze over you for what feels like an eon Klaue finally leans forward and rests his forearms on his knees, eyes focusing directly on you now. 

“You seem to be forgetting that I own this building. And you're only here", with raised eyebrows Klaue looks around the room to make his point, "because I allowed it."

You squeeze your eyes shut and take a breath, all of the earlier frustration is rushing back in and you don’t have the patience to argue with his non-answer.

“You know what?” you say with a resigned sigh. “You're right. That's fine. Just don’t move my stuff around when you're in here. Please.” He leans back against the couch with a smirk and seems to turn his attention back to whatever he was working on when you walked in.

With a sigh you start to clear off of the table and put away your tools, all the while silently seething at him and painfully aware of his existence in your space. So maybe when you stretch your arms over your head to ease the stiffness from the long drive you arch your lower back a little. And maybe you bend over a bit further than strictly necessary to put something away on a low shelf, tilting your hips so that your ass is on display. With satisfaction you hear a sharp intake of breath behind you but when you look back Klaue still seems to be focused on his phone.

His posture seems relaxed with one arm stretched out along the back of the faded cushions and knees casually spread wide. As you watch, though, he shifts his hips and smooths a hand down his thigh, and when your eyes wander to his lap you lick your lips when clearly see the outline of his erection through the fabric. 

At first you wonder what he’s waiting for but then you find that you don’t really care, and a calm settles over you as you realize that you’re done waiting. 

Oh, I drive you crazy? Fucking watch me.

You gather your things and then make as if you’re going to leave, but instead of walking out you close the door and let your bag drop to the floor with a thud. 

The sound brings his attention back to you and confused but intrigued his eyes slide over your body as you stride over to stand in front of him.

“Undo your pants,” you say, looking down at him.

Klaue’s eyes fly up to meet yours, his lips parting slightly. 

“Pardon?” he rumbles, after a beat. His voice is steady but you don't miss another shift of his hips.

You tip your chin toward his belt and say again, “Undo your pants”.

A smile slowly crooks the corner of his mouth but it doesn't do a thing to mask the storm behind his eyes.

“If I have to ask again I’m just going to leave”, you said straightforwardly and begin to turn away.

That seems to break the spell and blindly tossing his phone aside Klaue’s hands move quickly to the buckle of his belt as you step the rest of the way forward to drop to your knees in front of him and he grins when he registers what you’re doing. 

“You been thinkin’ about this for a while, darling?” he asks with a Cheshire glint in his eyes as he draws down the zipper.

You run your hands up his thighs and when you slide a hand over where he’s straining against his underwear you can feel that he’s already almost fully hard, twitching under your fingers. 

“Seems like you have been,” you reply with a squeeze to illustrate your point, his groan cutting off any retort while you teasingly stroke along his length.

You don’t last long doing this though, you need more of him, so you reach your hands up to tug at his waistband. Taking the hint Klaue braces his booted feet on the floor to lift his hips, steadily working both layers down until they’re finally low enough to free his erection which drops heavy between his thighs. He’s deliciously thick, curving smoothly up to where the head is already dark and leaking precum, and you’re unable to suppress a low whine when he wraps a hand around himself to languidly stroke his length.

“Is this what you want, hm?” Klaue’s voice is a rough and he smirks at your hungry expression as you watch his fist sliding over his cock. 

“Not quite,” you reply and lick your lips as your own hand joins his to wrap around the thickness of him, finally feeling him. He draws a hissed breath through his teeth and removes his hand so you can work him properly. 

You use your thumb to spread the bead of precum around the head, drawing your hand down to the brush of hair at the base of him and then back up, your eyes following the trail up his belly to where you can see it meet the edge of tattoo that looks like the tail of a crocodile. You wish briefly that you could get his shirt off of him but your focus is drawn back to his cock and how fucking good it feels in your hand, hot and silky under your fingers.

“Do you think about this when you touch yourself?” Klaue hums and you look up so that you can watch his face as your hand strokes him, the focused expression in his eyes belying the heat behind them. 

“I think about a lot of things,” you say, confirming his implication with a teasing smile. “Like you bending me over that table and fucking me, hard, leaving the door open so anyone could see how much I want it.” You tighten your grip on him as you speak, deeply satisfied when his eyes go dark and hooded and he moans, and you definitely need him to do more of that, so you finally do what you’ve been wanting since you caught that shift of his hips and lean down to close your lips around him. 

It’s your turn to moan as the head of his cock pushes into your mouth and it’s answered by an intoxicating rumble as your lips and tongue slide down and around his now achingly hard length, starting off slow, savoring the tang of him as you explore every ridge and curve. You run the flat of your tongue from the base to the tip of his thick shaft, then swirl it around the head and along the sensitive underside before releasing him with a wet pop and starting over again.

You can feel how wet you’re getting just from this and when you look up the sight of his dark and greedy expression has you nearly coming undone. An aching throb rolls through your slick sex and you don’t mean to whimper a needy sound around him but you do, and Klaue grins when he hears it.

“You might’ve been playing coy, but I knew how much you’d love having my cock in your mouth,” he rumbles.

Well, you can’t exactly argue with that so instead you suck - hard - hollowing out your cheeks and allowing the pressure to drag him further into your mouth. Klaue’s eyes squeeze shut and with a startled inhale he’s groaning long and deep and you’d swear before god that you can feel it against your tongue.

As you continue to suck him in and out of your mouth like this you feel his fingers slide into your hair and tighten into a fist. He’s not pushing down, right now just following the steady bobbing movement of your head, but you can feel the edge of want in his grip and your scalp stings under his touch, your entire body aching in response.

As good as it feels and as much as you would love to give in and let him take control, you instead pull your mouth off of him before he can push any harder.

"None of that”, you say, gratified when he rolls his hips upward in protest, mindlessly seeking for the lost heat and sensation. "You can fuck my mouth later", you purr as your hand continues a teasing rhythm along his length that’s now slick from your mouth. "But right now I'm going to suck your cock."

You barely recognize your own voice, desperate and demanding and full of aching need as you sit back between his Klaue’s thighs while he stares down at you, chest heaving and eyes hooded with a combination of frustration and lust.

“You want me to keep sucking your cock, don’t you?” Then, keeping your eyes on his you lower your mouth and flick your tongue through the slit at the tip of him to gather more of the precum that’s leaking there now.

Klaue growls at that and you can see the thoughts warring behind his eyes. You don’t know if this man who is so used to taking what he wants will allow you to take instead, but you don’t want to let him think too long on which he wants more so you squeeze his cock hard enough to elicit a startled hiss, returning his focus to you with a surge of heat.

“Yes,” he grits out, clenching his hands into fists at his sides.

If he was going to say anything else he doesn’t have the chance, the word is barely out when your lips are around him again and you throb at the sound of relief he makes when as your mouth returns to its ministrations. You’re surprising yourself with how much you really fucking want this, how much you love how hard he is under your tongue, and how delirious you feel as he nearly begs you, cursing and mumbling thickly, “Fuck, just like that.”

You take him further into your mouth, your lips stretching wide around him as the head of his cock hits the back of your throat, not taking him in all the way but enough to make your eyes start to water and to tease him with the tightening sensation.

“Fucking perfect mouth, Christ” he pants. “Looks so good with my cock in it.” Klaue’s words send another frisson of heat to your already soaked center and you can’t help rolling your hips in time with the movements of your mouth, and you know that he can see it. 

“Wish it was inside your tight cunt instead?” he says, teasing, and you moan around him because of course you fucking do and all of your focus is required to keep up your rhythm as think about where else he could stretch you open.

He’s starting to pant as he watches where he’s almost disappearing into your mouth while your hand continues a twisting stroke at the base of him.

“Fuck, gonna come soon, darling,” Klaue groans a warning, his voice straining against the fraying edges of his control.

You desperately want to make him come like this, want to feel him pulsing on your tongue and coating your mouth. However, the part of you that makes you want to jump off a cliff into the waiting ocean below, the chaotic part that you love and that’s felt so uncertain since you met Klaue is finally back in control and, well, it wants something else. It wants to fall.

Pulling back and shallowing your movements again you quicken your pace, and even though he’s still trying to temper his thrusts he can’t help flexing his hips so that his cock slides up through your spit-slicked fist. His tone shifts from pleasure to a more urgent need with every wet suck of your mouth until the only sound he’s making is a panting grunt that matches your rhythm as you feel him nearing his edge.

Then without warning you quickly pull your mouth and hands off of him and sit back, Klaue’s expression one of confused desperation, dark and unfocused.

“Finish yourself,” you demand.

Klaue’s eyes lock onto yours as a hand moves quickly to grip his cock and then you watch him jerk himself fast and rough and harder than you ever could have. He tenses suddenly, his expression momentarily frozen somewhere between agony and bliss and then his body bows forward and he’s coming with a strangled groan while you watch mesmerized as ropes of come spill thickly over his fist and on to his stomach. 

As Klaue strokes himself through the last spasms of his climax you stand up, wiping your mouth with the back of your arm and eyeing him appraisingly. Then, feeling absolutely high as a kite, you grab your things from where you had dropped them earlier and before he has a chance to recover you open the door and walk out the room.

Maybe if you’d looked back at him one more time you would have walked a little more quickly as you made your way back to your quarters. 

Because if you had looked back you would have seen a single thing burning in his eyes as they followed you out:

Run.

Thank you for reading! I hope the wait was worth it (and we're not done yet.)

Also, here's an example of the TIG welding art that's mentioned, it's actually really cool!

[luminary-of-the-marz]

Intro!!

(Because I should probably make one at some point)

✮────────────────────✮

Marceline (Marcy)

I use he/him pronouns (neopronouns are cool tho)

I’m a minor

American 🗣️🗣️🗣️🦅🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸 (sadly)

White

Nonbinary and Lesbian

I’m really bad at talking to people sorry 💔💔💔

Probably neurodivergent (not diagnosed though idk how to ask my parents 😔😔)

Sagittarius

✮────────────────────✮

Interests

Most Recent

Lord of the Flies

Adventure Time/Fiona and Cake

Random Ones

The Owl House

Percy Jackson

Hollow Knight

Monster High

Bendy and the Ink Machine

The Walten Files

Splatoon

Probably more I’m not thinking of, just ask me if I like something if you’re curious

✮────────────────────✮

Music I Like

Artists/Bands

System of a Down

Will Wood/Will Wood and the Tapeworms

Jack Stauber

Lemon Demon

Sodikken

Jhariah

The Crane Wives

My Chemical Romance

Melanie Martinez

Mitski

Penelope Scott

Mother Mother

Favorite Songs From Them (in order)

Kill Rock ‘n Roll (SOAD)

Love, Me Normally (Will Wood)

Inchman (Jack Stauber)

Amnesia Was Her Name (Lemon Demon)

Hansel (Sodikken)

RISK, RISK, RISK! (Jhariah)

Steady, Steady (TCW)

Save Yourself, I’ll Hold Them Back (MCR)

EVIL (Melanie Martinez)

When Memories Snow (Mitski)

Warm Regards (Penelope Scott)

All Gone (Mother Mother)

✮────────────────────✮

Fun Facts (ig)

My favorite color is purple!!

I’m learning German

I’ve been drawing for like ever, but didn’t take very seriously until I was like 10 or 11

I was a gacha life kid and gacha life animation memes were totally why I wanted to start taking drawing seriously

Now I take it seriously because I enjoy it lol

I can work in a lot of different mediums if I put my mind to it, I usually work digitally though

I realized was lgbt+ when I was 11, came out when I was 14 (my parents are supportive, they don’t care as long as I’m safe lol) 

I was learning programming (idk if I’ll continue)

I want to be a tattoo artist or video game designer/programmer

My favorite animals are cats, raccoons, and possums

Tbh I really want a hairless cat they’re so silly

✮────────────────────✮

Me (literally) if you even care

[victorckk]

Art tips

that I posted to my discord server, but decided to share here for anybody who might want or need them.

I’ve been drawing since the middle/near end of 2014 and while most of it was ugly MLP stuff, I’ve definitely improved a lot since then.

I don’t have a lot of my old art anymore, but if I can find my sketchbook from my high school art class (around 2019-ish) then I’ll update this post with pictures of some of the doodles tomorrow.

I’ll probably add on to this list eventually but for now I am really tired so,, whoopsies

Anyway, on to the tips!

Even if you think it’s ugly, DRAW !! That’s the only way you’ll improve. Draw what you might think looks horrible, only to come back to it later and see what you want to change or what might need to be changed. This helps you understand what parts of your styles and/or techniques you might want to change/use/stylize/etc.

STEP OUTSIDE OF YOUR COMFORT ZONE!!!! This one is IMPORTANT. If you keep drawing the same things in the same ways over and over again, it’ll catch up to you and burn you out eventually. Those things you’ve always wanted to draw of a specific media/fandom/etc. but always forced yourself not to because of your followers being from one specific fandom or something? DRAW IT. It’ll feel refreshing, trust me.

Just go crazy. Slap colors on a random doodle. Eventually you’ll either come up with a new character or inspiration for one. Use flowers, gemstones, other parts of nature, etc. as reference. I actually fell victim to this and now quite a few of my OCs are flower themed 💀

Make use of your sketchbook. Find some snazzy ways to make it stand out. If you want to make a collage of nothing but magazine clippings or your favorite characters? Go ahead. Your sketchbook is supposed to be personalized to YOUR liking. It’s like a home you can always come back to

Doodle in pen when you want to step out of your comfort zone,, oh my goodness I can’t explain how good this feels. ESPECIALLY colored ink with highlighters. It also trains you to learn how to draw without erasing mistakes, teaching you to learn to accept those mistakes as you go on. Most of my sketchbook doodles throughout the years have always been in pen and it’s my favorite medium 100%

Who cares if your paper is ripping from highlighters or countless layers of markers? Find a way to make use of that ripping and warping of the paper. Cut out a shape in that area that shows part of a doodle on the next page, sort of like a little window. Have fun with it! Your work doesn’t need to be or look professional. It’s all about having fun as you go

If there’s art supplies you never use that collect dust then start using them. I guarantee they’ll come in handy eventually + when used right they can definitely make your sketches and doodles stand out. I am a victim of this as well.. we don’t talk about my um decade old stash of sharpies 😕

[bonesblubs]

Hey! It's indecisive patron/Nul here 🍊 who just got their second book and I LOVE THE LITTLE LIU QINGGE SKETCH THANK he sits right next to the Mu Qing one where they wallow about the one who got away together spar :)

But now that brings the question - do you plan on making a third book? Or any other zines/art books for that matter? I know you posted art of your original work but I don't know if you ever planned to make a physical release of it ;; I would buy that up in a heartbeat, the way you draw looks so soft and I love it

There's also one more sad meow meow (JC) needed to complete the trio and absolutely no pressure but I would pay 20$+shipping just to get the little sketch LMAO

okay that's all thank you for all the good work take this 🍊 byebye

Nul!! I’m glad the sketch got to you safely hahaha

As for a third zine sketchbook- I’m not sure honestly- it would depend on how many sketches I do moving forward and how much interest there is!!

I actually was considering printing the inktober comic once that’s finished and doing a limited run on that though. It’ll be actually inked/finished looking. Would that be appealing to anyone?

As for my original work- the graphic novel I did last year (Specter Inspectors) is published and should be available online or at a local comic book store!! I actually also just ordered copies of the comic I did for Shortbox 2022 - here’s a random page from it! The book is around 20 pages.

I’ll definitely consider opening up commissions officially at some point, perhaps for patrons at a discount or exclusively- more to come on that!!

[bvannn]

Weekly Update October 6, 2023

I’ve been very volatile this week, which may continue next week or may not. I don’t know yet. I’ve been on weird cycles of doing a ton of art then doing nothing for a few days. It will probably continue.

So October is started and I’m an impulsive little greedy fuck so I decided to do three different prompt sets, but I’m doing them all differently. OG inktober is getting priority, because I feel bad about failing inktober 52 earlier this year. Maybe I’ll ink or digitize the few of those sketches that I never finished once I’m done, or maybe I won’t. Anywho I’m trying to do inktober daily, more or less. Second priority is goretober, because I need practice and also with life stuff being still weirdly volatile despite all I’ve done, bloody pictures are really cathartic. I’m tagging everything to be extra safe, even though I’m honestly probably over tagging. Idk day one was mouth stuff which really sets some people off so maybe I was overly cautious because of that, but I’d rather be over cautious than get in trouble. Lowest priority prompt set is cringetober, because even though I just kind of avoid most of the stuff on the list naturally due to personal distaste, I still appreciate the spirit of it. Cringe always has a place, even if that place isn’t on my monitor specifically. I’m not doing every prompt from that list because some of them I really can’t figure out anything Oc related (deadass almost gave up for ‘overly complex fit’ and drew Shulk Xenoblade and his ugly ass outfit instead, but decided against it because that’s against the spirit of the prompt set). I still want to fit in as many as I can, and even though most of those will be late, I’m still going to try. At a minimum I want to do the MS paint one that sounds fun.

Also I threw in a random drawing of Stitch this week. Maybe I’ll do other random drawings too, probably not. I’m already pretty behind on stuff.

So I’ve mentioned I’ve been slacking off with TRGA the past couple weeks but I’m trying to get myself back together with it. I’m trying to figure out timing a bit better, and I did finally get some assets I’ve been procrastinating on done. Jon now has actual soles to his feet, and soon Emile will have the sketch lines I’ve been trying to lean into with my art. I can recolor the foot sole asset for Tim and Emile also, although they won’t need it for this animation. I’m mostly at this point messing with actual movement timing and strategies to make the boys more distinct from one another, although I’m probably overthinking it admittedly. The current shot, 1-4, is by far my most complex in this regard, and may be the most complex of the animation, so chances are I’ll post a WIP once the ‘main’ character animation is done. Or maybe not. I’m not sure.

This week hasn’t been the best for personal life so my mood is extremely volatile, so there’s no guarantee anything will be consistent. My plan is to do one inktober drawing and one keyframe/batch of tweens/chunk of work a day for TRGA done every day, and then the additional prompt sets and/or general drawings done whenever possible, but I’m such a mess I can’t guarantee anything. I’m trying to get stuff together with doctors, since they have been telling me pretty good news, but my primary today said something that, while it would be great news, contradicts what a specialist told me. She did outright say to double check with the specialist since they were probably right, but you know how hard it is to get ahold of doctors for that so now I need to worry about that. I’m a mess this semester isn’t going very well, and tomorrow I’ll probably end up doing music instead of art which will suck because I probably won’t have anything to show for that for a while yet.

[ezzydean]

I couldn't decide for this last one between TanaDai and HaruNagi, so just. Do your thing. Just fuck me up, babe.

come trick-or-treat in my inbox requesting ficcies and I’ll either treat you to some fluff or humor or trick you with a horribly twisted sad AU  (I’ll use a random generator to pick trick or treat) send me “trick or treat” and a character(s) or ship in my inbox and I’ll write you a short little thing (I’ll be doing these all of October so send away!) i did my best

treat

Daichi settles into his armchair with a content groan.  Ryuu crawls into the chair with him and Daichi doesn’t even have the heart to push him away.  Instead he simply wraps his arms around Ryuu and studies him.  

The darkness stained around his eyes is a fascinating shimmer of blues and blacks tinged with silver that makes the tiny golden stars falling from his eyes even more entrancing.  The dark leather cord around his neck is braided with gold and silver threads and the rusted key hanging from it draws Daichi’s attention to the soft, vulnerable dip of Ryuu’s throat.  The gold ink running down his shoulders and over his arms pulls Daichi’s focus until he’s staring at the swirling designs, mind far, far away lost in another set of swirling stars and shimmering golds.

“They’ll be here soon, right?”

“Yeah.  Any time now.”

Ryuu nods and nuzzles closer to Daichi.

“Good,” he says around a yawn.  “This is so much easier when Haru’s here.”

“Sleep,” Daichi murmurs.  “I’ll wake you up when they get here.”

—

Nagisa sweeps into their home the way he always does.  One moment he’s not there and the next he’s filling the space with his presence, his light, his warmth, in a way that makes you forget that he hasn’t always been there.

There’s a large crow pin clipped haphazardly in his hair and smears of purple so dark they’re nearly black running down his cheeks and throat.  Golden footprints follow him, glittering in the low light, and Daichi shakes his head, already resigned to finding glitter and gold dusting everything weeks after Haru and Nagisa leave.

Haru follows a few steps behind Nagisa.  His fingers are covered in a riot of oranges and pinks and golds that make Daichi’s own fingers itch with a need for something that he can’t quite pin down.

“Missed you,” Ryuu mutters sleepily from his spot in Daichi’s lap.

“Missed you too,” Nagisa says.  Daichi’s chair is not meant for three people.  But that doesn’t stop Nagisa from crawling into it anyway, purples and golds mixing with Ryuu’s blues and silvers until they’re a messy spread of tangled limbs and half-formed ideas in the confines of Daichi’s lap.

Haru balances carefully on the arm of the chair.

“The sky looks gorgeous this year,” Daichi says.

Haru smiles and shifts to look down at Ryuu and Nagisa.  He rubs his hand against Ryuu’s head and runs his thumb through the dark stains around Ryuu’s eyes, dragging the stars even further down Ryuu’s cheek.

“Sorry we were so late.  Nagisa was particularly stubborn this year.”

“Doesn’t matter.”  Daichi wraps his arm around Haru’s waist.  “So long as you come back to us.”

“You’re our home now,” Haru says.  “We’ll always come back.  No matter how many galaxies we have to go through to get here.”

Daichi nudges Haru until he leans down for a kiss.

“Welcome home,” Daichi murmurs against Haru’s lips.

“We’re home,” Haru murmurs back.  “We’re finally home again.”

[astrum99]

I think I learned how to self-destruct from a very young age.

My mother is a very tidy person. Keen on keeping things perfectly clean, wiping until the handles sparkle like stars, and hiding everything in closets, cabinets, and drawers. The house looked like a hotel. There were very little signs of life.

I used to be messy as a child. The complete opposite of her vision. Keeping nicknacks on the table, every writing utensil, every collected rock, every sticker and stamp. I thought I knew where things were, I didn't. I hid things I treasured, and then I lost them. I used to think that I was just bad at keeping things organized.

My mother hated it. She loves me, of course, but she hated the mess. She despised the chaos and randomness, and gosh, the dust! So every once in a while, she cleaned for me. Putting things away into the little boxes; tucking the boxes away onto shelves. She tossed away things for me, too. She tossed away waste. Sometimes not-waste. She didn’t mean to, she didn’t know. I can’t possibly blame her.

After the third time it happened to something I genuinely treasured with all my heart, I learned the fragility and worthlessness of the “things I love”; and by extension, my attachment itself. It was a lesson ingrained in me. Useless items, useless affections. One time I wondered if she thought that of me too.

It didn’t help that my family moved so much when I was young. Renting only a few years before changing locations. Keeping things light and simple so we can move easily again. That means nothing big, nothing heavy, nothing to keep except items that are expensive and important. Old drawings, old writing, volumes of signed yearbooks were tossed because I can’t be greedy and take up precious space reserved for other practical things like bowls and computers and bars of soap.

I started organizing my own room when I was in high school. All the items, fit neatly into little spaces. A few drawers that were stuffed full, so my desk can be devoid of life. It looks like a fucking cubicle. I was praised for it.

During my final year in high school, I left my first and only art sculpture in a place I knew my mother would accidentally smash. I was terribly proud of it. I remember leaving it on the desk, imagining the broken pieces, and choosing to leave it there anyway. She did, of course. So I spend a whole class mending the broken parts. Water, clay, fuse, repeat. I left it in the classroom to “bake” and never took it back. I loved that thing. It was big, and heavy, and useless. I see myself in its image. (I don’t even have a photo of it. Isn't that hilarious?)

Every so often I think about burning my artwork. Tearing off the pages. Smearing jet-black ink. Submerge in bleach. Toss into a river. Scratch and shred and stab until it turns into scraps.

I think about smashing my favourite bowls and cups on the ceramic tiles, until they break into razor-sharp pieces. I think about sticking my hands in them until they dig into the softest part of my flesh and draw crimson.

I stay awake far longer than I should. I binge eat far more than I should. I delay things that I know I must do until I panic to make them perfect, because they must be perfect.

My bedroom wall is falling apart. Something to do with the drywall and plaster. The floors creak. The windows shake in strong winds. This house is my parents’. I imagine it all coming down on me. I stay. It tethers me.

The desire to destroy still engulfs me sometimes, but I’d like to think I’m better now. Time brings strength and reflection. Buying posters. Putting up paintings. Trying to convince myself to purchase something that I wanted but not needed.

It has to be better, because I’m terrified that one day I’ll find myself unable to tell if my apathy comes from my body, or from the imprint of my mother.

That desperate, anxious distancing from the eventual loss.

God, I hope my room is messy.