#this is just a lil sketch (thumbs up)

[ragingbullmode]

still thinking about her everyday every hour every minute every second

[todayisafridaynight]

i think ichi would still go into work while suffering from *gameritis and hes so brave for that he's so committed

[mggsv]

BABY DADDY .ᐟ

f!reader x toji fushiguro (18+)

summary : “Fuck you Toji!” “Fuck me..? FUCK YOU.” God you hated him so much.

warnings : toji calls reader a bitch and finds out, slapping, reader cries, sex while pregnant, slight angst, a cute little fic

“..It should be “Thank you, Toji. Oh i just love you so much.”

He looks at your angry face, scar rising as he couldn’t hold back the cocky smirk. His eyes trail down to your little round belly, four months swollen. “Thank you? Thank you? I’m fuckin pregnant dumbass!”

“Nothing wrong with ya carryin my seed. You can take a break from work for 9 months. Calm the fuck down.” He grumbles, grabbing a cigarette from his pocket. “Calm down? I can’t just take months off- I model dumbass.”

“And you modeled for me one day and look what happened, I knocked you up.” Not to mention the engagement ring you wore. You’ve been together for almost three years he’s head over heels for you. “Calm the hell down.” He’s reaching over to pat you on your head. “Gonna give ‘Gumi the crazies.”

“No- you don’t understand. I don’t wanna become a housewife-“

“I wanna still be the model I was- no—you don’t get it Toji you’re a man— baby. We have this chat once a month.” He quotes you almost perfectly. Smoke leaving his lips. “Quit yr’ bitchin-“ SLAP !the sound loud ringing in your ears, hand colliding with his face faster than you’ve ever moved before.

“Fuck you Toji!”

“Fuck me..? FUCK YOU.” God you hated him so much. Your eyes watered, but you were a strong little thing. That’s what Toji liked about you..one of many things. Like how when you first met he was just a guy in the crowd watching you strut down the aisle, smirk on his face as he sketched in a notepad. An artist he wanted to be..you learned that after getting to know him. Your eyes glance over to the notepad page, framed on your wall but showing signs of age.

You also thought of what he actually was..the son of your boss. He didn’t have much money when you met, looks could always fool you..so sweet you were. That didn’t bother you much though. It wasn’t his fault his father blocked his success. His art, your love. You watch as Toji puts out the cigarette, cursing to himself as he started to walk away from you.

“Wh- don’t walk away from me we’re not done.” You follow him. He sighs, rubbing his forehead. “Yes we are.”

“No we’re not-“

“I’m not gonna keep doing this every month. We had time to..we decided to keep the baby and now you’re complaining about the damn kid!” He turns to you, blue eyes staring sadly at your brown ones. Instinctively reaching down to graze your cheek. “I know you don’t like it mama..” he murmurs. You sniffle softly, leaning into the touch you fell in love with. Your eyes close as he felt closer. His lips grazing over your chin and neck. Toji’s hands wrapped around your body.

He held you both. “It’s your fault.” you sob into his embrace. He couldn’t hold back the small smile littering his lips. “Takes two ta tango?” he wipes your eyes, kissing the tears away. “Mhm..” you found yourself sniffling. He rubbed over your swollen belly. “Gumi be nice to mama alright? Stressin’ her out.” He whispers to the baby.

“M’sorry..” He whispers again, his strong hands guiding you into his body. “How could I be so bad? Getting such a perfect little thing knocked up..filled up with my baby. How could I have done such a thing..” He coos.

He leans up to kiss your lips, thumb swiping at the fallen tears. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, y’know?” Toji stands up straight, bringing your body into his. He rubbed your back while you cried softly into his chest, how you wrapped your arms around the love of your life…he was everything. He knew you meant no harm, he also knew to watch his mouth but still failed. “You’re going to be perfect- we’re gonna be a perfect lil family okay?”

“Cmere mama..” He had you trapped. You loved him too fucking much to let go.

“Be gentle.” You had huffed. “Damnit I am- shut up.” He had huffed back, playful smile on his lips while the thick head of his cock slipping between your folds. Toji held back while you were pregnant- he had no choice- being the rough guy that he was. It’s how you go here in the first place, hell. The scar on his lips danced as he moaned softly, bottoming out. He didn’t go in all the way, though. His tongue lapped at your growing breast. Nipples being flicked by his tongue, hips still.

“Missed this..” you close your eyes, breathing softly while he started to move. His hands were on either side of your head, tightly fisted the sheets. You could tell he was doing his best not to pound you. “Mm..” Your head relaxes on the big pillow beneath your head. Toji’s face tucks into your neck, cock slipping out past your ring. He was a mess. The cum that leaked should be a crime. You’d tease him about it later. He slips back in just as easily, biting down gently on your neck. “Gonna take care of you, alright?” He mumbles.

“Yeah yeah.”

[inkdrinkerworld]

Hey could I possibly request an Autistic! reader x Dealer! Remus where r shows affection through biting so they'll randomly come up behind rem as hes with a customer (Or James/Sirius) and just bite his shoulder but no where near hard enough to hurt and they just stand there like that and the other person with rem gets a little confused but Remus is just completely unfased because R will do this all the time if they get overwhelmed and just need to be around Remus but is way to overwhelmed to hug him

That probably made no sense but my lil autistic brain came up with it while reading your dealed rem fics :))

Your autistic brain has made this perfect blurb be born!! Thank you for requesting and feel free to send more autistic!reader x whoever you please

You'd been sketching on the sofa in the dispensary, mechanical pencil scratching against the paper as music blasted through your headphones.

It wasn't the first time that Remus had you sit in the quietest corner of the dispensary while he was selling, and every so often he'd throw his gaze in your direction smiling quietly to himself when he found you relaxed and drawing.

"Are you sure this is all I can get?" Remus hates when customers get like this. He's been straining a new type of weed and it'd been a selective process, not wanting to waste too much of it in the event that it didn't do well.

He'd limited it to 7 grams only. It was still a lot, but to seasoned smokers, not really.

"Yeah mate, m'not trying to send anyone to the hospital if they green out." The man nods, asking Remus another question that doesn't register to you.

You're just on your way to Remus, you've been stumped by your drawing and being stumped has led to a bit of overwhelm that you know just how to get rid of.

Your hand presses into the small of Remus' back as you sink your teeth into the crook of his shoulder. You don't bite him for longer than ten seconds, not hard either- there's just the slightest imprint of your teeth in his skin when you pull away.

Remus turns to you, a question on his face that he doesn't vocalise. He doesn't need to- you've been together so long and Remus has worked hard to learn all your cues so that when you don't want or can't talk, you don't need to.

You shake your head and he nods once, the man on the other side of him confused as to the entire interaction. "Sorry mate," Remus says when you're back on the sofa, pencil tapping against your lip.

"That doesn't break skin?" the man asks and Remus chuckles, placing the baggie in his hand and taking the money from his outstretched hand.

"No it's sound, see you next week?" The man takes the dismissal, taking his weed and leaving. Remus turns in your direction.

He mimes taking off one of the ears of your headphones. "Everything okay?" he asks when you do, eyes roving your face and then taking a peek at your journal.

There on the pages are a series of sirens, all from different angles. The body twisting one way, then the other, some are swimming upside down, others are laying on a rock lower body hidden as they entice a sailor.

"Yeah, was just stuck on something. It helps." He knows it does, so much so that he doesn't even check on the mark. You lean into him when he takes a seat beside you, pressing a kiss to the bitten shoulder.

"You know it's okay, dovey." he whispers, patting your head and feeling you preen under the action. "Doesn't bother me." you smile where your lips are pressed into his skin.

"Can I do it again?" you don't sound overwhelmed but Remus nods. Your teeth sink into the same spot, Remus strokes hair back into your braid, cheek pressing into your head.

When you pull away, there's a little line of dribble moving with you. Remus swipes it away with his thumb, kissing your forehead as he watches you fix your headphones back on and pick up your sketchbook again.

You start a new sketch, one of a superhero Remus has come to recognise as yourself, equipped with your pink headphones as all, laying on a sofa much like the one you're sitting on now with a cat Remus thinks is himself sitting on the arm near your shoulder.

He sits with you until another customer comes in, eyes flitting to you every couple of minutes he's away.

[eyesxxyou]

❝ nude bodies ❞ (artist!hobie x trans ftm!reader)

｡ﾟ･ ¡ content. friends to lovers, a little bit of awkwardness, oral (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), reader has a t-dick, very sweet sex (bordering on love making), creampie, hobie gets a little sappy at the end. you've been long time best friends with hobie for years, both secretly pining after each other. you both think nothing will ever come of your feelings until hobie asks to draw you nude.

wc: 5k

The sun was hot on your face. The rough sound of pencil meeting paper tickled your ears. Hobie hummed a soft tune while his hand carved out the rough shapes of your face into paper. His eyes kept flicking from his sketchbook to you, his gaze lingering on your closed eyes before wandering a little lower to trace the shape of your honeydew lips.

He reached out, his hand tenderly caressing the side of your face to get you to turn your head to the slightest degree so that the sun hit your face at just the right angle to make you glow honey gold. He touched you like a masterpiece, one of the old greats, like you would crumble if pressed too hard. His thumb traced your lip and you shivered ever so slightly.

“Have ya ever though’ of letting me draw ya nude?” Hobie had a way of saying things. Careless or carefree, you chose because he doesn't have the energy to do it himself, too busy drawing or playing the guitar.

You open your eyes, a deep frown painting itself across your honeydew lips. “You want to draw me what?” You sat up on your arms and Hobie sat up with you on his knees, his hand on your chest to push you back down onto the smooth wood of his deck. “Nude. Was I no’ loud enough? Keep still, dove. ‘m no’ done.”

You sigh and relent, laying back in the sun with your head tilted towards him to catch the golden rays. Hobie settled back down beside you and began sketching again.

You won't say Hobie didn't rattle something within you. Nude was intimate, nude meant vulnerable, nude meant served on a platter with all your feelings splayed out so brazenly before him. You couldn't hide anything from him while naked, couldn't hide how every gentle touch of his warm fingertips made your heart leap and your groin ache with feelings you’re forced to call want. You couldn't hide from his wandering gaze powdered with the stark neutrality of someone who didn't care either way.

“Why would you want to draw me naked?” You try not to move too much while you talk, try not to make a big deal out of his request. Why would he want to draw your body? Your body didn't look like everyone else's, the crescent-shaped twin scars cupping your chest made sure of that. Not to mention all the changes gone on between your legs. You’re not the most ideal person in the world to draw nude according to every societal standard.

But Hobie wasn't one to care about a social standard. “Why wouldn' I? I draw ya all the time. Yer my lovely lil muse.” He touched his pencil behind his ear and set his sketchbook down closed beside him. He shifted himself, laid down right beside you with his head propped up on his hand, looking down on you as you lay below him.

Hobie reached out and pinched your cheek. “Jus’ think ‘bout i’. No pressure. I wan’cha to be comfortable with the idea.” He lied down completely beside you, just the two of you lying on the deck of his boat, shirtless, arms touching all the way from shoulder down to the backs of your hands. You could grab his hand if you wanted to. He could grab yours. Your finger twitches with the idea of it. But that's not what friends do.

“What would happen if I agreed?” You asked timidly. Hobie turned his head, eyes carefully tracing the lines of your side profile. “We’d wait a week before we did anythin’. Jus’ in case you became a chicken and wan’ed to back ou’.” He teased as he always did and that set you at ease as you turned your head to meet his gaze.

His deep-set eyes traced the contours of your face with dedication and admiration. If you hadn't known any better you might have said he did it lovingly. But he was an artist at the end of the day and your best friend. Any love he had beyond a platonic one was for what you do for his art. “You bring it to life.” He once said. He did not love you the way you loved him. You were sure of it.

“Lemme finish this piece then we can grab a bite, yeah?” Hobie sat up and placed his hand on your chest, patting you the way a friend pats another in the back. He doesn't let his touch linger even though every atom of your body begged and pleaded for him to just touch you, touch you anywhere, you didn't care where. Just let it stay there, let it linger a little longer, let it hold so you might know that he's real and he’s yours.

You consider it while he draws with your eyes closed and your hands resting on your belly, tracing imaginary lines and imagining it’s Hobie doing it with the tips of his nimble fingers. He wouldn't make it weird, wouldn't tease you about it for the rest of your lives, wouldn't embarrass you by telling others. That's not how he is. It would just be between the two of you, from one man to another.

Hobie sits beside you in silence, hoping he didn't ruin anything you two had, the soft progress you have made with each other years in the making. He’s been dropping hints for years now, the obvious ones only made in the last few months. Unnecessary lingering touches, brushing his hand against yours to give you the opportunity to grab on and stay that way. He holds your face so softly so fucks sake, leans in so close he might just kiss you but leaves it to you to make the final move. You never do. He called you his muse, told you his art is nothing without you and yet you still look at him with that blank, oblivious look in your eyes that makes him want to tell you straight up that he’s in love with you. You’d probably still tilt your head like a puppy, confused and unknowing.

His eyes lavish over your body, every piece of exposed skin being feasted upon by his greedy gaze. Your eyes are closed, you’d never know. He wants to trace his fingers along your scars, kiss them, kiss you, feel your skin on his and know you a little more than he already does.

“I’ll do it.” You concede. “You can’t show it to anyone though. I’d die of humiliation.”

“Never planned to, dove.” Hobie smiled. “It’ll just be between me ‘n you. It’s just anatomy practice.” Anatomy practice sounded good, sounded reasonable, sounded like he wasn't just trying to find any excuse to witness you naked. Did it make him sick, perverted, what he’d end up doing with that drawing as he did with nearly all his other drawings of you? Did it make him bad that he’d end up with his hand firmly wrapped around his cock, pleading for a single moment, a single chance? Did it make him wrong that he’d ruin the page with cum and would have to redraw it all over again?

You remind him, “I don't have regular anatomy.”

“I don't need regular, dove.” Hobie looks up from his sketchbook, flipping his pencil to erase a small imperfection in his work. “I just need you.”

-

Hobie gave you a week. An entire week to reconsider and yet you remained steadfast in your decision. It wouldn't be weird. Hobie has a way of making awkward situations completely comfortable with his light-heartedness. He never took anything seriously so why should you?

Boarding his boat meant accepting wholly that you’d be naked in front of him and a part of you, while nervous, was comfortable with that. If you were to be naked in front of anyone in the entire world, you’d want it to be your best friend, the person you trust most in this world.

Hobie was waiting for you inside, guitar in lap while strumming some cords to a melody he was humming. You kicked your shoes off at the door and let it slam shut behind you as if it were sealing you in. You can't back out now. You had promised.

Hobie put his guitar down on it’s display rack and tossed the pick into a small box of picks he had sitting on a small table beside his bed. “Mr. Punctuality ova here. I wasn' expectin’ ya fo’ anotha hour.” He hopped down from the ledge he was sitting on, stumbling a bit but ultimately landing on his feet. He came over and tossed an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his body for a half-hearted hug.

“You told me to come at 1.”

“But when I say tha’ I really mean 2. You know ion run on other people's time.” He offered a cheeky little dimpled smile across those dark lips of his that you adored more than you could ever say. He rubbed your shoulder a little before patting it and letting you go. You wanted to run back to him, to tell him to embrace you once more but fully this time. You didn't want to embarrass yourself by doing so.

“Are ya sure ya do this?” He offered you one last chance to back out before the two of you started. “We can always stop if ya feel uncomfortable,” he assured you.

You nodded slowly, lips curling into a soft, self-assuring smile. “I’m okay. Let’s do this.” Your heart beat so hard in your chest you could feel it in your throat and hear it in your ears. You balled your hands into fists, thumbs in your palms, squeezing with anxiety. You trusted him, knew he would do nothing to make you feel uncomfortable.

“I’ll be back in a momen’, you can get on the bed when you’re ready.” Hobie went to leave to afford you some privacy. You appreciated his thoughtfulness and watched him go with a shaky breath. You wrung your hands, grasping the hem of your shirt to sooth yourself before you began.

You started with your shirt, pulling it over your head and folding it up neatly before placing it on the edge of Hobie’s bed. That was soon followed by your pants, then your underwear. You’re not used to being naked, especially not in Hobie’s boathouse. You felt vulnerable, your hands immediately went to cup your love and cover yourself without so much as a second thought.

You climbed up onto Hobie’s bed and covered yourself with his duvet, waiting for him to return so that you can get this over with. You tell yourself it’s for anatomy practice, that it’s nothing more than that. But there’s something oddly intimate about being wrapped up in his planets, lying in his bed with his deep, musky scent permeating your senses and soothing your raging nerves.

You lay there with your face pressed into his pillow awaiting Hobie’s return. Your fingers gripped his sheets, twisting and fingering the fabric anxiously as you watch the door crack open and Hobie’s head poke inside to ensure you’re properly prepared. He saw you curled up in his bed and smiled with a tender softness. “You ready?”

You nodded, nipping at your bottom lip. Hobie came shuffling in, closing the door behind himself gently. He rummaged about his flat, grabbing his sketchbook and a sharpened pencil before coming over to you in his bed.

Hobie climbed in with you, shuffling over to kneel beside your covered body. He set his sketchbook down and carefully reached out to grasp the edge of the blanket you had covered your modesty up with. “May I?” His eyes were soft looking upon you, they ask for permission too, ask for you to let your guard down for just a moment. They ask for you to trust him

You do. You trust him wholeheartedly. With your bottom lip caught between your teeth, you nod subtly and let go of the blanket. You let him peel it away from you but your hands return between your legs to keep yourself covered.

“Jus' relax f’me, dove.” His slender fingers grasped your wrists, carefully and gently pulling them away from your tender lips. You don't resist him, you let him take your hands in his and remove them from the spot where you find yourself feeling the most vulnerable. There's something about his touches that feels more intimate than before. Your nudity amplified every caress of his hand against your skin. You could feel it linger throughout your body.

Hobie gazed at you, his eyes scanning down the length of your trembling body, hitching at your chest and groin for just a lingering moment. You don’t hear the way he murmurs soft prayers under his breath, a plea for strength, for the worthiness to admire such a sacred body in its most bare state.

Starting the sketch was the hardest part. Hobie was used to touching you, holding your face, dragging a finger along the curve of your jaw, his fingertips kissing your eyelids, tracing the underside of your lips. He was a physical learner and with time, he knew your face like he knew his own palm, all the lines and shadows that made it up.

But he didn’t know your body. Not the way he wanted to.

You could see the frustration crossing his face as he turned his pencil and erased his work for the second time, “Is there anything I can do to help?” Your voice was timid and beautiful, ringing with an air of genuine concern. You hadn’t expected Hobie to ask to touch you.

“F’r visual purposes only. I don’ – know ya body yet. No’ like I know ya face.” His hands wrung against his lap, refraining from making himself too comfortable with your pretty body. He imagined your skin would be soft beneath his palms, supple as he dipped his graphite-covered fingers into your flesh. “You don’t have’ta.”

“You can.” You say almost too quickly. Did he catch the desperation in your voice? Did he catch the way you leaned in just a little further, the way you crossed your legs at the mere thought of his hands stroking down the length of your bare skin. Had you given yourself away? Had you shown all of your cards like an amateur?

You watched Hobie place his things down and come over to climb back onto the bed with you. You sat up and let out a startled little gasp. Hobie was suddenly closer than you had expected, sitting beside you with his hands on either side of your legs to prop himself up.

“Jus’ tell me when t’stop, yeah?”

He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t help but to touch. Hobie started at your face, the familiarity of it offering you ease and comfort. His hand cupped your cheek. Brushing a soft thumb under your eyes, palm cupping along your jaw and his thumb moving up slightly to skim over your soft eyelid. The pads of his fingers move to your lips, tracing them left to right, right to left. His eyes flick between your lips and your coy gaze, too shy to fully meet his every time he looks at you.

His other hand skimmed at your waist. His fingertips touching at your chest, tracing your scars with such loving care. Hobie likes the way you shiver under his touch, likes the way your body rolls as he makes his way lower to your belly where your happy trail begins, leading lower and lower. He doesn’t go all the way though you so desperately wished he would.

His hand touches your thigh, the other trailing down your shoulder, to your elbow, to your hand where his fingers slip beneath yours. Before you know it, your fingers are laced with his. There was something so innocent about it, something so beautiful and soft. His hand on your thigh, tracing circles into your flesh felt just as innocent in the beginning. But his fingers were trailing .along your inner thigh, gripping the flesh there with something far darker that anything platonic.

It was hard not to melt into his touch, a touch so hot that it left your skin burning where he met it. Your chest burned with desire. Your gaze, a little more brazen now, showed as much. You swallowed thickly as you caught Hobie’s gaze and suddenly you were doing just the same as him, staring at that lip piercing that glinted under the dim lighting of his bedroom.

It was the same thought that crossed your minds.

“Can I kiss ya?”

“For your drawing, right?”

Hobie nodded slowly, leaning in with a subtle tilt of his head. His lips hovered slightly over yours, not exactly kissing you but not, not kissing you either. “Yeah…for the drawin’.” He whispered against your lips, taking them with his. He kissed you like he’s been waiting for this moment since he’s known you. Kissed you like he needed this, kiss you in a way that said “if you stop, I’ll die.”

He can't help the way his hands wander, touching you in places he'd never even dreamt of touching in the first place as his hands grow more greedy. His hands trail everywhere, feeling your skin grow warm under his touch as he commits every brush of skin against skin.

You could feel a heat pool between your legs, your pussy ached and your dick throbbed to attention with each inch gained by Hobie’s fingers closer to your wanton core. You spread your legs for him, silent permission for him to touch where he pleased and where you craved.

Hobie did not touch you there, not yet. His hand held your waist and his lips began to trace a trail down the side of your neck, placing sloppy, open mouth kisses on your exposed flesh leading down to your chest. He peppered kisses along the crescents of your scars, worshiping exactly where they cut into you and made you a little more of who you are.

His lips pressed kisses down your naval. His hand gripped yours tighter. “Lay back, luv.” His free hand pushed you back gently, coaching you to lie in the mess of pillows stained with his scent. Hobie held your smaller hand, pressing it into the mattress, his free hand still roaming and touching and studying your warm body.

How could he possibly go back to pencil and paper after this? His drawings could never satisfy him now that he’s gotten a taste of the real thing. His art was meaningless now, served no purpose now that your flesh was beneath his tongue, in his hands, gripping, touching, loving.

He’s come on your face a thousand times over in his mind, on his page. But he could not bear the idea of sullying your sacred body with such degeneracy. Hobie would only touch, only please. He would come last.

He settled himself between your legs, his hand parting them a little further until your pretty, wet lips parted with a nice, creamy sound. You turned your head away, embarrassed but Hobie found it quite lovely. You are hard and wet for him, your sweet, little cock firm behind the hood.

Hobie kissed your pelvis just above your t-dick, ending his journey to where you desired him the most. He glanced up at you and found your eyes cast away with what could only read as humiliation.

“C’mon, dove, look a’ me.” He kissed the tip of your dick and smiled as you shuddered with something of a pathetic moan. You willed yourself to look at him with timid eyes. Hobie kissed your tip again, his fingers pulling back your hood to give him more space to work. His tongue licked firm strokes between your soaked lips all the way up to your pretty cock which he licks then takes into his mouth.

He sucked on the engorged bundle of nerves, swollen and sensitive on his tongue. Hobie worships the way you cry a little, your back arching from the sheets, his tongue stroking lick after lick against the tip, each one sending jolts of pleasure throughout your heated body.

You placed one of your hands on the back of his head, not applying pressure but to give him a few encouraging scratches to his scalp. “Just like that, keep going.” Your body shows all its cards and you couldn't care in the slightest. Breathless moans and soft whimpers keep him going, keeps him sucking your pretty dick with his tongue occasionally lapping at your sweet little hole.

Hobie used his fingers to stroke between your pussy lips where you ached the most. It was easy to ease a finger in with how utterly soaked you were and with a few slow pumps, the second finger was not too far behind.

He took his time with you, unraveling you like a gift splayed out before him. He could rush, he could take what he needed but he wanted this to be slow, intimate. He needed to tell you just how much he worshiped his body of yours, how much he valued every piece of flesh you offered up to him. He needed to study you, inside and out.

Your hushed moans were beautiful and the whines the broke out between them were just the same. “My lil’ muse.” He hummed against your cock, kissing it and the flesh around it in an act of praise. His fingers worked in and out of you, curled in search of that gummy little ridge that would send you into orbit and make this all the better for you.

He knew he found it when you let out a nice, little, high-pitched moan and your whole body lept. Hobie chuckled softly, much to your dismay and rubbed you at your sweet spot right where you needed him.

“Why– fuck~ why are you always…so mean. L-laughing at me ‘n all.” You pant out, hips bucking against his soaked fingers, all your pretty, little parts rubbing against his knuckles.

“On the contrary, I think ‘m bein’ rather nice, don' you?” He kissed your belly, slowly making his way back up your body to find your lips again. “I only wanna be sweet wit’cha, luv.” His lips pecked yours once, twice, before he kissed you fully again. His fingers thrust into you, his thumb playing with your dick to keep you nice and stimulated. “You don't think ‘m bein’ sweet?”

You shook your head and he pressed his fingers into your sweet spot to make you gasp. “I-I think you’re the meanest person I know, Hobes.” You wrapped an arm around his neck to pull him in, your lips still stealing kisses from one another. “I think you’re mean peck ‘cause peck it’s your fingers inside me and not peck you.”

“I can change tha’. I can be so nice t’ya.”

You’re lucky he’s in his pajamas and not his entire getup. It’s easy to get him to pull himself out of his pants enough to reveal his length to you. He’s thick and long, nothing to make a passing statement at. He slips his fingers from your eager cunt and uses them to drag along the tip of his cock, spreading it down his length with a few sloppy strokes against his palm.

Hobie pulled you closer. You settled back against his pillows, whining a little when Hobie pulled his hand away from yours to brace himself against you. You toss your arms over his shoulders and around his neck. Your gaze is a bit more confident looking into his and Hobie kisses you softly.

You're dripping, trembling as he drags the tip of his thick cock between your soaked lips. He teased you, pressing the tip into your sopping entrance before pulling away. It coats him, your wetness, making it easier for him to slowly inch his way inside. He stretches you slowly and your nails sink into his back. You bury your face into his neck, muffling your moans.

His hands caress your body, holding you tight as if he craved that same warmth from you as well. His hips pressed flush against yours, his cock buried deep within you. He lets you adjust while he familiarizes himself with your tight cavern. Your walls hug him, imprinting every vein, every groove of him. Soft and welcoming like you've been waiting to invite him in since forever.

You two stare at each other, the warmth of one’s breath breezing over the other's supple skin. "Move." You encourage, nudging your nose against his. His hands tightened on your waist as he pulled his hips back until only the tip remained inside before surging them forward. He liked being soft with you, liked touching you like you were one of his drawings, like you would smudge if he pressed too hard.

You didn't mind slow or careful. It made you feel all that more special, like you were worth taking up that time where he could be doing other things. He kept his strokes paced, gentle. The soft slapping of skin mingles with your moans that fill the room.

"Hobie~" You claw at his back, leaving your mark on him in bright red lines that cover his skin. His cock filled you to the brim, pressing every point of pleasure along the way to his tip kissing your cervix. Hobie’s size was nothing to laugh at. He touched places never before discovered, his hips rutting into yours in firm, paced strokes.

He pressed his against the side of your head. Your shampoo was nice, lavender and vanilla he supposed. Hobie made a mental note to write that down in his sketchbook with all his other notes about you.

Hobie smelled like subtle cologne and natural musk. It's comforting, not overwhelming or violently invading your nose. You kiss his neck, along his sharp jaw, and over his prominent Adams Apple. Your teeth nip softly over his supple flesh, easily able to leave hickeys on his skin, smooth as paper.

Your moans are like music to his ears. High-pitched and uneven. With each thrust, he's rewarded with such a beautiful sound. You chew on your bottom lip in attempt to contain them but he doesn't like it. "Uh-uh, I wanna hear you. Don't deny me such a beautiful sound." He reaches up and pulls your lip from your teeth with his own. A spark.

Hobie took your hand with his much larger one and laced your fingers with his like before. He pinned your hand to the bed, rubbing off graphite onto your skin, his mark on you, his love on you. “Am I nice enough now?”

You nod, “so nice~”. You sighed out, pulling him in and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. “So good.” You murmured against his skin, sucking on that piece of flesh to calm yourself. His strokes were deep, solid, unquestionable in his dedication to his craft.

He kisses your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, then your lips, a innocent little kiss that belies the way he’s fucking you right now, his pelvis rubbing your dick with every roll of his hips.

His hand touches the side of your face, skimming it, holding it, worshiping it as if he were drawing. Your eyes fluttered softly, your lips parted to let out a shaky breath and your eyes admire him the way he admires you, like an artist looking at its masterpiece.

Hobie’s hand trails down the length of your body and reaches between your bodies to touch your dick. He strokes it between his fingers, smirking at the way you cry into the bend of his neck and take the time to bite. You sink your teeth into smooth muscle, tongue lavishing over smoother skin. You’ll undoubtedly lean your mark and he wouldn't have it any other way.

You were so sweet too, so sweet to tell him before you came in short, fast pants. You begged in soft “please”s for him to keep going. “Jus’ like that.” Your legs hooked over his slender hips to keep him in close.

Your mind went hazy with the rush of your climax, your body tensed and rolled with the waves of it. That pretty pussy of your clamped down around Hobie’s full cock, stroking him in beautiful subtly pulses that coaxed him towards his own orgasm.

“Ya wan’ me to cum wit’cha, pretty boy?”

You nod and whine, nails sinking into the back of his neck. Your legs tuck in and pull his hips closer and oh those silky walls of your milked him so nice and thoroughly he couldn't help but to cum.

Hobie didn't mean to cum inside, didn't mean to sully your body with his spunk. He didn't want to ruin you, ruin the temple of your body but God, he couldn't help it and you weren't letting him move.

And oh, he didn't mean to get so sappy, didn't mean to lift your intertwined hands and kiss the back of yours as he came deep inside, hot cum rushing to fill you to the brim. He sighed with pleasure and contentment and looked you in the eyes. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, luv. My lil’ muse.”

He rolled over with you still holding on to him, slipping from his little sanctuary between your legs with a wet pop. He readjusted himself, made himself decent before kissing you on the head.

God, what would this mean for your friendship? Would this become a regular thing? Did this make you something more. You were too afraid to say anything in fear of ruining the quiet serenity of the moment.

“You got what you need for your drawing?” You ask innocently, as if he did all of this for some damn drawing. Hobie scoffed against your scalp and pulled away to look at you. “Yeah, but ‘m no’ in the mood to draw anymore. Jus’ lemme hold’ja, yeah, dove?”

You could let him do that.

[yourgentlegirlfriend]

HIHIHIIHI!!! i luv luv LUVVVV your writing!! you're one of my favorite writers on this app fidhuhgseuhsdfsifj ><

may i request some fluff (or smut; whichever you prefer!) with leon wherein the reader is an artist, and she has this lil notebook filled to the brim with sketches (whether that be normal sketches or... spicy ones) of leon but she hasn't shown leon the notebook BUT he ends up finding it and teasing her??

AND (if you DO write it as smut) WHAT IF READER DREW SOME SKETCHES OF SEX POSITIONS AND LEON USES THOSE POSITIONS WHE THEY HAVE SEX!?!??!?!?!? I'M GOING CRAZY OVER THIS THOUGHT RN DJFHSIDFUHIU

keep up the good work with all the writing you do!! you're an amazing writer, and i hope you have a great day :>

Hello my angels!! Thank you guys again for 400 followers im forever grateful for you guys. i was so fond of this little plot i HAD to write but it’s def not my best. Happy monday <3

DISCLAIMER: This is an 18+ blog! If you are underaged or don’t have an age indicator in your bio, please don’t interact!

AFAB Artistic reader x Pre Re4 Leon

Warnings: Leon’s a little tease. Mentions of ripping clothing, couch sex, Leon’s pretty soft in this :)

Word count: 3,050

Meeting Leon was just a lucky coincidence, almost four years ago now. The worst job you swore you’d ever had, but that changed once you met Leon. Instead of typing the files in the computer, your foot tapped against the marble flooring.

“That’s really good.. Do you draw often?”

You slammed your notebook shut, scared your boss had caught you again. Your eyes glanced up to the man peering over the desk, a tight gray t-shirt on and a pair of cargo pants.

“So sorry, sir. Are you here for training?”

Your fingers pressed against the keys of your desktop as you stared up at him, waiting for an answer. He looked like his ego had been beaten down when you didn’t reply to him, nodding his head at you.

“Yeah, um, Kennedy, Leon.”

You wrote his name down on the paper, handing him the small slip with a grin.

———-

She was new, I think. Her hair was pulled into that pretty bun, dazed as ever. Pretty pencil skirt and an off-white long sleeve. Beautiful handwriting, too, Leon’s thumb brushing over the slip in his hand, pulling out his wallet to shove the slip inside.

The next day he hoped you’d be sitting there, looking bored out of your mind. His arm pushed against the heavy glass door; he couldn’t help but smile seeing you at your desk. Why is he smiling?

“Busy day?”

Leon couldn't help but smile as you jumped in your seat, slamming the notebook shut- again. Your little smile tugged at your glossed lips as you held at the pen, scribbling his name.

“Goodbye, Leon.”

Your teasing voice made the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He grabbed the red slip in your hand, dragging the bag off your desk as he walked down the hall again.

——————

For days, even weeks after. Leon would always ensure he showed up early, fascinated by your presence and the way you scribbled his name on the notepad on your desk when he would say something to make you blush.

“Hey, so… remember that sushi restaurant I told you about?”

Leon’s first words as he walks up to the desk, placing his bag on your file as you roll your eyes, nodding up at him as you type something into the computer.

“What about it?”

You ask as you push your rolling chair back, waiting by the printer as it turns on. Your head leans back as you look at him. He looked handsome as ever today. His training was working, that’s for sure, his shoulders being so much broader and his arms becoming so defined with muscle.

“Well, today is my last day of training. Did you want to go out with me as a celebration?”

It wasn’t for celebration; Leon just finally had an excuse to ask you out. Spending almost three months talking to you and getting to know you, yet he has never asked you to dinner. Your face lit up as you rolled back to the computer, stapling the papers together and using it as an excuse to cover the bright red that invaded your cheeks.

“Sure- what time?”

You asked up to him, clearing your throat as your hand rubbed your cheek to make it seem like you weren’t blushing. Cute, Leon thought as his tongue brushed over his bottom lip.

“Seven? I can pick you up.”

Even offering to pick you up? Your heart was in your throat as you nodded shyly, smiling as you wrote your address on a sticky note and handed it to him.

“I’ll be ready.”

You handed him his pass along with the sticky note of your address, his eyes reading over the number over and over before he smiled at you, tapping your desk a few times and walking down the hall as he does every single day.

———-

Why so shaky? The knocking on your door echoed through your living room, your hands brushing through your hair again as you did a small circle in your mirror.

You thanked god you wore heels, quickly glancing through the peephole to see Leon. He made your heart jump just by standing there. You swore he looked you up and down when you opened the door- but this was one-sided. You were so in love with him. Your coworkers make fun of you when you’re on your break, eyes following him from the expansive open training rooms.

Obsession was a strong word- but even you could admit it was getting to the point of obsession. You hoped after he left the facility, you wouldn’t have to see him again, especially since it was his last day, but he just had to ask you to dinner, didn’t he?

“Are you ready?”

Leon asked as he looked around your apartment, scanning all the books on your shelf. You wanted to say yes, but your hand reached up, your eyebrows frowning as you noticed you weren’t wearing the necklace your brother had gotten you.

“Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be back.”

He couldn’t help but watch you walk down your hallway, fingers tapping at your sides like at work. Snoopy, maybe. His eyes darted down to the notebook on your coffee table. It’s the one you always have on your desk. Light purple with random stickers all over the front and back. His fingers traced over where your name was carved before he looked down to the hall to check if he was clear to look through it. The first few pages are drawings of the statues at work, the plants, yourself, and your glossy lips. His eyebrows frowned at the empty pages, going on for almost five before he finally saw it. His name was written in your pretty cursive; below was the soft sketch of his face, his handsome smile, and the small indent in his chin. Sketch after sketch of him leaning over your desk with the cheekiest smile.

The next page sketches his lips, his tongue darting out slightly through the corner in one and pressed together in another. Sketches of the way his eyes sparkle next to them.

His slender fingers traced the page looking at the sketches of his arms, some with his knife in his hand, some just holding a water bottle. He peeped his head down the corner of the hallway again, hearing the echo of your voice on the phone. His fingers moved before his eyes as he flipped the page, his cheeks flushing a deep red at the sketches of his hands rubbing up your waist. Now he was paying attention, graphics of his fingers in your mouth, your legs thrown over his shoulders, his head thrown back, and his Adam’s apple more than prominent.

“Leon?”

You stuttered, your heart pounding against your chest. Your breath feels so caught in your throat, your eyes staring at his hands holding the spine of your notebook. You blink into reality, snatching the notebook from him as you firmly have it against your chest.

“Why.. would you go through my things..”

You laughed, embarrassed, as Leon stared at you. His presence was now super overwhelming. He just.. stared at you. Great, now he hates me? He thinks I’m so weird…

“Why’d you just leave it out?”

What? Jesus fucking Christ, what?

“It’s my apartment; what do you mean..”

You laugh bitterly as you push the notebook onto your shelf, your hands slightly shaking.

“I didn’t draw any of that. I left it at work for a few days, so maybe it was stolen or something.”

There we go. Perfect excuse. Leon’s feet shuffled till he was standing beside you, pulling the notebook off the shelf next to you.

“Alright, that’s understandable. If they aren’t yours, you wouldn’t mind me looking through them again.”

Your face flooded with embarrassment. Your back turned to him as your eyes squeezed shut at the sound of him flipping through the pages.

Leon felt his pants grow tighter at the sketch of your pretty folds wrapped around his cock, then the illustrations of just your pussy made his cock grow painfully harder, your eyes shifting between the notebook and the bookshelf. There were pages after pages of just Leon and you, sometimes just Leon, small notes here and there. The last page is a sketch of the two of you hugging and a small note

“Seven, Leon’s sushi place”

Leon, yet again, closed the notebook, laying it on the shelf as you held your arms, sighing at his silence. His hand rubbed your arm softly, taking your hand in his. He rocked behind you, resting his cheek on the side of your head.

“Cmon’ let’s go eat.”

———-

The drive back to your apartment was so silent. Your head spun as you looked out the window, admiring the pretty night sky. Leon’s handheld at your thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles on your smooth skin. Biting at your nails nervously, your head turns to Leon. Why did he have to be so handsome? Hand gripping the steering wheel, hair perfectly rested against his cheek. The white button-down he wore fit him so perfectly. He believed you, right? You felt guilt in your heart, thinking about how you sat at your desk, legs crossed so close together at the thought of Leon fucking you stupid. It’s not everyday you meet a man like him. You craved him, but you would never tell him that. Leon’s car stopped, your daydreaming stopping as he pulled his keys and shoved them in his pocket. What a gentleman, he opens your door for you, holding his hand out. Your hand grabbed at his as you stepped out, holding your purse to your side as you whispered a small thank you to him as you reached for your keys.

The two of you stopped in front of your door, your heart starting to ache at the thought of never seeing him at work again, all the conversations you guys have had. The silence was uncomfortable now; you looked up at Leon with a slight frown before you reached up and brought him in for a tight hug, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as he hugged you back.

“I’m going to miss seeing you every day.”

You laugh into his shoulder. He laughs back in response as he pulls away from the hug, your hand reaching to unlock your door as he watches you. You step inside your dark apartment, looking at him from the door with a gentle smile still on your face.

“I’ll call you, I promise.”

Leon speaks as he watches you stand against the door frame.

“Bye.”

“Bye, Leon.”

The door slams. Why are you going to cry? Is it because he thought you were a massive creep? You held onto the wall as you kicked off your heels, sighing in frustration as you threw your purse to the ground. Your body jumped at the pounding at the door. Though you were taught better, you swung it open. Leon stood his hands on his hips, staring at the ground.

“Le-“

Leon pushed his way into your apartment, his perfect hands cradling your face as he smashed his lips into yours. Your feet struggled to keep up with him moving you back into your living room. Where did this come from? His hands hungrily gripped at your hips, your thighs hitting the arm of your couch. Leon's head dipped down your neck, pressing his tongue to the softness of your skin.

“Leon, wait..”

Your eyes flutter open as you reach down, grabbing his face. Leon stared up at you, his breathing labored.

“What happened?”

Your thumb rubbed across his cheek as he stood, pulling you in closer to him.

“You think I don’t want you? Do you know how hard it was not to bend you over this couch after flipping through that notebook?”

He grumbled as he turned you around, pressing his palm up your back as he bent you against the arm of your sofa. Your back arched in response as you looked back at him with red cheeks.

“Every word I've ever said to you makes you blush like that, you know.”

He’s right. But it’s hard not to blush when he compliments your every detail. Leon’s fingers dragged the zipper down your back, his lips following. So much softer than you had imagined. He stood again, tugging at your sleeves, smiling at your bare back. You gasped as you heard a slight tearing, your head flying back to see Leon had ripped your dress. Leon chuckled as the fabric of your dress dropped to the ground, his hands brushing over your hips.

“I’ve always loved watching you grab papers, your hips swaying.”

Leon smirks against your shoulder, his lips pressing against your neck again, your breathing shaky as he sucks at your skin. His pretty lips leave red patches all over your skin that will later be small purple markings that’ll be so prominent. Leon lifts himself, grabbing you to lie on your sofa, smiling down at you as his fingers work at unbuttoning his shirt.

It all felt like a dream, Leon’s shirt dropping to your floor as he tugged his dress pants down his legs. Hypnotized by him, the way his arms flex when he comes to hover over you, his hands holding at your thighs as he drags you further down the couch, his lips pressing against yours again. Leon’s lips ghosted over your skin as he stared at you through hooded eyes. Your eyes roll slightly when his fingers press over your clothed clit, rubbing small circles into you as he licks over your chest, leaving his marks on you there too. Your hips buck into his hand, a laugh coming from his lips as he pulls back, staring down at you as he pushes your panties aside, his fingers slipping into you with ease. Your mouth hangs open slightly as you stare at him.

“So wet.. all for me?”

Leon’s voice was so husky, so different than it usually was; you couldn’t help but let out a moan as his fingers dragged over your walls, your body lifting onto your shoulder as you looked down, your hips tilting up slightly to watch his fingers push in and out of you. The feeling was intoxicating, your head throwing back as he used his other hand to rub at your clit.

“You like watching? Watching how greedy this little pussy is..”

Leon couldn’t help but moan himself as you tightened around his fingers, his eyes staring down at you, sucking in his fingers. He groans as he tugs his boxers down, a whine leaving your lips at the feeling of his fingers no longer filling you. His hands grab at the back of your knees, holding them with one of his larger hands as his other hand grabs ahold of his cock, which was painfully hard. His lips parted slightly as he pressed himself into you, his grip around your leg tightening at the feeling of you squeezing him. He was so thick, so much bigger than what you could handle, a whimper leaving your lips as he pushed himself into you more. His hand drops your legs resting against his waist as he leans over you, grabbing at your jaw to pull you into a sloppy kiss, his tongue pressing into your bottom lip as he fully bottoms himself into you, causing you to gasp into his mouth. Leon let out a soft whimper as he leaned up, holding at your thighs as he rocked into you. You looked so beautiful finally lying below him; he had waited for this too fucking long.

“You look so fucking beautiful taking me like this..”

Leon groans down at you as your hands reach for his shoulders, pulling him back down to press his chest against yours as his speed increases. His face comforts your shoulder as your hands grab at his back, your nails scraping at his back as he lifts your hips, the new angle making him hit that perfect spot.

“I- Leon!”

Leon nodded his head as he looked down at you, forehead glistening with his sweat and his hair sticking to his skin.

“I know, baby, I know.”

He knew because you were gripping him so tightly, he was fighting his hardest not to let himself go inside of you, his thrusts becoming sloppy as he watched you squirm beneath him, warmth flooding your stomach and your breaths increasing as he pushed his palm into your stomach. Random babbles leave your lips as your arm comes up, covering your face as you cum around him, your walls fluttering against him, causing a loud groan to escape his lips as he pulls himself out of you, moving your hand from your stomach as his cum splatters all over your soft skin.

You two stare at each other, catching your breath. His arms reach forward, moving your arm from your flushed face.

“There you are.”

He mumbles as he kisses you softly, standing up and reaching down to pull up his boxers. He’s gone for almost two minutes, yet you’re still lying on the couch, eyes studying the ceiling.

“You organize your laundry room weirdly.”

Leon’s voice makes you tilt your head, watching him walk back into the living room. He leans over, wiping your stomach with the small rag in his hand, your lips tugging into a smile as you reach forward, touching his face. He peers down at you, smiling back as he helps you sit up, his fingers pushing your hair behind your shoulders.

“You want a shower?”

He asks softly as he sits beside you and wraps his arm around you as you lean your head against his shoulder.

“I just want to be with you.”

You mumble, your eyes closing as you wrap your arms around his waist.

“I’m not leaving anytime soon; I think you’re stuck with me.”

Leon speaks as he lifts your chin, kissing your forehead softly before he stands up, lifting you over his shoulder, causing a loud squeal to leave your lips as he taps the skin of your thighs with a smile.

“Let’s shower. Then you can show me more drawings, yeah?”

[the-travelling-witch]

hello miss witch, i have a question for you if you don't mind c:

i've read about that sweet ask left by the snowflake anon and then the compliments (?) from another anon about that work with scara ending up late because of morning kisses and cuddles

this actually had me wondering how would the anemo boys react to a sudden sneak attack consisting in kisses all over their faces, no spot/inch left untouched

if you need an example, this one: aether is minding his own business, maybe sketching a new tattoo idea, or drawing for fun, or doing whatever maybe while sitting, and his sweet lil partner comes behind him, engulfing him in a warm hug before leaving numerous (very numerous, almost too many one could say) kisses and smooches all over his face, so many that no inch is left untouched: cheeks, cheekbones, eyes, forehead, temples, nose, lips as the final touch, before stopping satisfied and go back to whatever this partner was doing before this sudden love shower, their lover boy probably short circuited by this

no need to answer at all or for all the boys if you don't feel like it, it was just a curiosity that came to mind c:

have a nice day, miss witch

hi there, i never mind asks about the modern au, i just might not answer requests for drabbles immediately bc i need to be in the right mood to write more than a few paragraphs for a specific scenario :>

i won’t write for all of them bc i have a lot of requests for the modern au (and that’s considering i don’t actually take requests) but modern! aether needs more love <3

warning: a little suggestive at the end (or you could just get your mind out of the gutter hshsh)

holly's modern au masterlist || holly’s modern au tag

Aether’s sketchbook lay discarded on the coffee table, having to make room for you to scoot into the place it previously occupied. With his hands now free to hold you, you could easily rest your head on your boyfriend’s slowly rising and falling chest.

Catching up on a show you were watching together, your hands were tangled in the ends of Aether’s long hair, the blond strands soft but still showing some of the colour that had washed out over time. 

When the show hit a bit of a sag in tension and nothing really happened to move the plot further, your gaze landed on the empty mugs in front of you and you untangled your legs from Aether’s to push yourself up.

But your decision to grab new drinks was delayed as you glanced down at your boyfriend underneath you, looking ethereal with his golden hair splayed around him like a molten halo, his bright eyes focusing on you at your movement.

“Hm, what are you-“

His breath hitched as you leant down to plant a soft kiss against his temple, his skin warm and smooth against your lips. Not able to resist, you trailed more kisses over his temple, all over his cheeks dimpling with his smile, his melodic giggles floating through your living room until you reached the corner of his mouth.

You attacked his nose next, simultaneously pushing the loose strands of his hair behind his ear with the hand not used to support yourself, just so you could flutter a swarm of butterfly kisses over his pierced ears.

The skin underneath the pad of your thumb grew steadily hotter as you caressed the arch of his cheekbone, your lips busy mapping out the path from behind his ears, over his jaw and down his throat. 

By now his heart beat was thumping faster against your chest than before and you know Aether was trying to control his breathing, only to be betrayed by his own shaky exhale. He swallowed hard as you lingered over the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder, before continuing south as far as the collar of his shirt would let you.

As you sat up on your knees between his legs, you studied your boyfriend’s flushed face, seeing how his brain tried to catch up to what happened just now, his fingers twitching without his arms complying to bring them any closer to you.

“I’m getting up to get new drinks, of course,” you cheekily answered his previous question, moving to unfold your legs from underneath yourself and slinging them over the edge of the couch. 

Aether mumbled something under his breath as you stood up and you urged him to repeat himself, louder this time. There was more clarity in his eyes when you looked back at him, subconsciously licking his lips.

“I said, didn’t you forget somewhere?” The question was airy in the delicate atmosphere, as if any more force could shatter the bubble you found yourself in, where only him and you existed.

Pretending to contemplate for a moment, you agreed with a grin but didn’t bend down over his mouth. Instead you quickly lifted the hem of his shirt and your lips made contact with the cool metal of his belly button piercing, giving it more attention than the others before. With your hand splayed on his warm stomach, you could feel the sharp intake of air under your colder fingertips and you followed his skin relentlessly before letting up with a smirk.

Satisfied with the state you left your boyfriend in, you turned towards the kitchen to actually fetch new drinks but the action left Aether outside your field of vision. 

So, when his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, a surprised gasp left your lips and you were quickly spun back towards your couch and flipped over to have your back meet the couch cushions.

Perhaps with your boyfriend now hovering over you and his blond hair tickling the side of your face, it was a good moment to remember how unassumingly agile he was.

There was a competitive sparkle in his eyes as a grin playfully curled around his lips and you closed your eyes when he leant down to mirror your actions. But instead of starting from your temple like you did, the featherlight touch of his soft lips against your earlobe sent a shiver down your spine as he whispered to you.

“It’s my turn now, beautiful.”

© the-travelling-witch 2023 - do not repost, translate, copy or edit

if you like my content, reblogs, comments and asks are always much appreciated ♡

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modern au: @r0ttenhearts @bananasquash @hoshiwitch

[or0ch1maru]

kakuzu brainrot is real and it’s happening

can i ask for some hcs of him with a fem s/o that’s not only just as tall and intimidating as him, but also has a huge scar around her face?? :3

please and thank u !!! <333

hello bby :3 of course you can ^.^ I’m loving all the kakuzu asks I’m getting. Thank y’all for that. He my lil baby🥺 let’s get into it🫵🏻

•

-many people have shied away from you. Especially the boys and men growing up. Leaving you inexperienced in relationships.

-but that all changes when Kakuzu joins the picture. He loves you. He loves your height, the way people are scared off by you. Lastly, he adores the hell outta your scar and how you don’t try to hide it

-you never were one to be insecure, and if so, it’ll only last 5 minutes before you’ve moved on to something else.

-but with Kakuzu, you’ve never felt insecure or doubting your looks. He may be more of a silent lover, but his actions always show and prove how much this man is truly head over heels for you

-in bed, or any chance he gets, even if that means standing/sitting beside you during a meeting with the other members, you’ll find him trailing a finger over the scar on your face

-rubbing his calloused thumb over your chin and cheek before switching to his pointer finger, grazing where the scar tissue continues up and over your temple

-whenever Kakuzu wants you to look at him, he uses his entire hand. Thumb under your chin while the rest of his fingers and palm practically swallow the side of your face. Turning your head to meet his gaze, which softens the second your eyes meet his

-pulling down his mask to leave a path of kisses along the scar before planting a deep kiss against your lips

-“gotta remind you how beautiful you are woman” he’d mutter in between kisses

-two things you were completely unaware of is the picture of you that Kakuzu keeps in his wallet and how he asked his two artistic team mates to sketch a drawing of you to keep in his bed side table

-you happened to find it by accident when looking for your keys. Bursting into tears when you spotted it. Only for Kakuzu to walk in and find you, worrying, thinking something was wrong until he approached you

-sketch in hand as you turned to look at him with nothing but adoration in your gaze

-you placed the paper on the bed before wrapping your arms around him, nuzzling your face into his neck. Feeling his large arms wrap around your frame as he pulled you even closer into him

-“what? Is my girl surprised that I love her?” He’d mutter as a soft joke. Knowing your past and how he’s the only one who’s ever looked your way

-both his hands cupping the sides of your head, his thumbs sitting at the base of your chin. Tilting your head back so he can look at you

-“no tears woman” he’d start softly, only using this tone with you. “Gotta have somethin’ to look at when you’re not home” he’d reassure.

-giving your forehead a soft kiss before moving down to your lips

-he may hate everyone, have a deep love for money, but you, you are truly number one in his heart and he’d die for you

•

[faegoddessog]

Stroke Yourself For Me

A/N: Soooo, I've been dipping my toes into digital art this week... Decided to whip this up today to go along with this little window into the fuckery that is my mind. I'm still learning (though I've done sketch art my whole life) Yes I used (several) reference pictures. I fear some of the values may be off, and of course I see all that is wrong with it... but I'll never tell. lol!

As always, if you'd like me to add you to my tags list, let me know!

Summary: Just a little moment when introvert time becomes exhibitionist time.

Warnings: Mature Material 18+, Masturbation, Mess, lil' bit'o praise, Fingering, PiV

It had begun just cuddling on the couch. Just quiet time. He was reading on his 

kindle, thumbing through the pages. She had sat down a foot from him, her own tablet in hand. She knew he needed introvert time and didn't want to interrupt. She just wanted to be near him.  Without looking up, he opened one arm towards her in the universal invitation for snuggle time. 

She slid under his arm and into his chest. Once settled, she let out a big sigh of contentment, he kissed the top of her head. 

It was like that for a while, until she came to the dirty part of her story. She was so sucked in, that she didn't realize she was muttering little oh’s and mmm’s of appreciation. 

Without letting on, Austin started reading over her shoulder. His fingertips unconsciously caressing her upper arm. His keen fingers that he could hold in just such a way as to look delicate, as though water were dripping off the tips. There were countless photo shoots of him, but none of them showed the reality. Not one gave away  just how strong and persistent those long fingers could be.

It wasn’t until he shifted, adjusting to give his dick just a little more room, that she noticed his e-reader was laying face down on the cushions. 

She turned to look at him. His eyebrow twitched and his jaw tightened, fire kindled in his eyes  She twisted in his lap to reach his mouth with her own. He had pulled her in hungrily. 

Now, she matches his desire easily, running her hand down the old tshirt that covered his chest, then up under it. He reaches over his head, and grabs the back of his shirt. It momentarily divides their face as the fabric passes between them.

Just the heat of his skin under her hand is another level.  She plays at the hairs of his chest and his hand roams down to the curve of her lower back. His mouth is on hers again, devouring, demanding. His tongue is just that little bit extra in her mouth. As he pulls back, in ebb, she sucks that rich of his lip in, the tip of her tongue flicking along the fullness. 

Lower, lower, lower her hand wanders as his glides around the curve of her ass.

She runs a finger along his waistband, teasing his skin with her fingernail. The muscles of his stomach tighten in and attempt to pull away from her ticklish touch. He smiles against her lips, humming out a tiny laugh. She can feel his sweet little cupid’s bow twitching against her lips. She pulls back to look at him, her pupils dark  with want.

“Sorry, didn't mean to tickle.” her voice comes out sultry and low. 

“S’ok,” he purrs out, capturing the beauty that is his bottom lip in his teeth. 

He wants her, wants everything to do with her, He’s so fucking in love with this woman. He’d endure anything for her, from her. He’s about to tell her this, when  her tongue rims her rosy pink lips and he loses all train of thought. What she could do with that tongue, he knew, was pure sorcery.

She leans in, pulls his lip out from under his teeth with her thumb and flicks her tongue against it in little kitten licks. All just a minor distraction from her hand as it continues to explore the rim of pants. She tugs at the button of his jeans, but her angle doesn't lend itself to ease of movement.

In one swift snap of his fingers, he slips the round brass stud from its capture, his zipper follows suit and he exhales at the sudden space his now hard cock is afforded. 

She cups him gently through his briefs as her tongue continues to make promises to his mouth that she may or may not keep. 

His groan, low in his throat, is everything to her. She loves him beyond words  and  would do nearly anything to hear that sound rumble in his chest. The sound of desire, of straight up need. His need for her.

Together, they free his cock, exposing it to the cooler air. He hisses as a stray hair he must have missed is caught in the zipper. 

“You ok?” her concern written on her face.

“Oh yeah” he rubs at the sting. She catches his movement out of the corner of  her eye.

“MMMM,” her eyes narrow as an idea forms in her wicked brain. 

Together, they work his pants down just enough to keep the toothed metal away from his sensitive flesh. 

She takes in the sight of him, shirtless, pants only partly on, freckles sprinkled over the surface of him, like kisses from Ra. She walks her lips over her favorite ones;  left pec, the three that slant across his midline like Orion’s Belt, and the darkest one down and to the left from his belly button. The last conveniently near the tip of his cock. 

The fact that when he was freed and hard like this, he could drip precum just above his belly button always made her wet. In fact there was a dewy drop threatening to fall right now. She slowly laps along the tip once, twice.  

The breathy ‘oh’ that falls out of his mouth makes her hips pulse forward.

Yes, when she first laid eyes on his natural asset, she had been nervous. It was just… big. He had seen the look on her face and luckily, he knew just what to do, how to handle her. He had worked her so sweetly and thoroughly with tongue and fingers that she begged him for it. When he entered her slowly, deliberately, she had rocketed straight up and was bounding over the precipice of her orgasm within a handful of strokes. 

Anytime she lays her eyes on it now, her Pavlovian inner walls prick with heated blood flow. It turns out that he fits perfectly into her cunt.

His hand alights at his base.Holding his big cock gently away from his belly between thumb and forefinger, offering himself up to her in whatever form she wanted to take him.

It was hot, in fact, everything about him was heat itself. 

Now, she trails her fingers lightly up his magnificent shaft.The grin on his face at her touch was all the encouragement she needed. 

She pitches forward, dominating his mouth. Her hand wraps around his and pulls it onto his shaft. 

“Stroke yourself for me,” she says against his lips. Before he can protest, she produces a bottle, seemingly from thin air. Clear liquid dribbles in a line along his shaft and over his tip. 

He freezes as the cool sliquid drips onto his fingers and skin. This was not what he had in mind. In fact, he had never done it in front of her, or anyone for that matter. 

“C’mon baby, show me how you work that gorgeous cock,” she murmurs in his ear, sensing his hesitation.

Her sultry voice, her hot breath on his skin, the way her hips press against his leg leaves no space for the embarrassment that was trying to surface.   

“Please, Sugah”  she slips ever so slightly into a prettily demanding southern accent. The one that always gets her what she wants, the one that has come to drive him wild. 

“I- I don’t usually use this hand,” his mind trying to hold the two opposing thoughts of wanting to yet not. 

“Hmm, quite the dilemma then huh, cuz that’s the one that’s messy and this other one is busy bein’ all ‘round me.” She snuggles deeper into the crook of his arm. 

He tries moving the muddled hand. It feels awkward to him, like he’s never touched himself before. 

“I don’t know baby, it’s … I’m…” he stutters, those high cheekbones flushing as he breathes out what could almost be a petulant sigh. 

“You can do it,” she encourages, “we are in no hurry my love, just close your eyes and find what feels good.” She trails her fingers over the ridges of his abs. 

He nods, licking over his bottom lip before trapping it with his top teeth again. He shuts his eyes. He starts with his thumb and first two fingers, slowly up and down his now slick shaft. Short strokes become longer ones as his hand finds a metaphorical footing.

Her fingertips trace down to his legs, her nails scratch light lines up his thigh. He moans as even through the jean material, the sensation adds to his pleasure. His hand starts to grip, fisting up and down his cock. 

She watches the muscles of his forearm pop as he pauses now and then edging himself just a bit. His eyes are still screwed up tight, little lines forming between them on his forehead. The way his lips fall apart is just delicious. 

“Fuck, baby, you are so hot, I love watching you pleasure yourself,” the murmur in his ear spurring him on. More lube drips from the bottle onto his tip, then into her hand. Her palm gently cups around his balls.

“Oh fuck yeah,” it comes out more breath than vibration as his eyelids flutter. The tips of his fingers dig into her back as she massages his sac. 

The tension travels outward: squirming hips, wave of motion up his arched spine, his chin tilted up. All of it before his abs tighten and curl him in. She can tell his body just wants to fuck, primal and instinctual.  

His strokes move short and fast over his head, then long and slow over his whole length. 

Little fretful moans begin to escape him, like he’s begging for permission to cum, even though he’s in total control. 

“That's it.  You gon’ cum for me?” Her voice drips over him like honey as she drapes her leg over his. 

“Uh huh,” comes his simpering reply.

She starts to tongue the nipple nearest her, sucking in the tiny nub, grazing it with her teeth the way she knows he likes it. 

His whimpering moans are like music to her ears. His glutes flex, his feet try to find purchase, his body is shaking.

“God, it’s so sexy,” she says more to herself than him. Her pussy squelches in her panties as she presses against him, desperate for friction against his thigh. 

His edgy , percussive sounds give way to deep grunts. His hand stills as his hips jut forcefully forward, fucking his length up into the ring of his fist. 

She can feel his testes tighten to his body. 

“Let me hear you sugar.” She extends one wet finger behind his balls doing her best to stay light and steady in the storm of his passion. His hip thrusts rub the pad of her finger across his tight little pucker. It is his total undoing. 

Long, loud growls accompany the strain of his hips and gnashing of his teeth. His pelvis tucks and his abs are rock hard.

White cream spurts from his tip, a milky line from his sternal notch to his belly button and back again. He seethes, air hissing in and out from between clenched jaw.

“Good boy, that’s what I want,” she rises. In one motion she straddles his chest, skirt hiked and rubs her cotton panties on his cum covered chest. She’s not even thinking right now, her need is cardinal. 

His hand is still on his cock, arm trapped under her leg. He never thought someone riding his chest would be so fucking hot. 

Still panting, his other hand wiggles its way under the sticky fabric. His fingers find the wettest pussy he ever felt. The fact that his jerking off is what has her clit drowning like this is not lost on him.

She drives back onto his fingers, leaning forward over him to let him get deeper. Her tits jiggle under her shirt. She lifts it and feeds him one of her nipples. He eagerly suckles, just like she likes. 

“MM, can you get deeper?” she moans, 

“You want my dick, it’s still hard,” his voice is low and sultry around her nipple.

She doesn’t answer, not verbally at least. Her body says it all as she scoots back and  he pulls the sodden cotton aside as though he’s done it a thousand times. She gyrates her hips, seating his tip. 

 When she finally slides back. They both groan loudly; he at the warm heat enveloping him, she at being so utterly and perfectly filled. 

Always tag me: @purejasmine, @slowsweetlove, @richardslady121, @austinbutlerslovers, @tadpoleteef, @allittakesisoneflight

"I've been tagged by you before Lumiere!": @thisworldisntrealhoney,  @1nho,  @megangovier, @briaandthephantoms, @andro-inherdreamworld @callumsgirl @blombardo  @fefeisastar @hacunamy @nestito702 @denised916 @jayydep @r0m4nitcl0v3r @heyidc03, @secondchild-2, @flander42 @natural-born-rebel-spirit @lecosymood @kathrynzaragoza @bsunshinexo @jayydep @ifyouloveweedletsgosmoke

[trimalchiooframshackle]

CW; BLOOD/GORE thumbs up emoji

when i said he could be a zombie i meant it btw (not canon unless i feel like it) so just a lil sketch :P its not great but whatevs

[grubus]

@tgcf-official it's not proper lore but here's a lil aesthetic moodboard I made for the first part of SYoNR. *thumbs up*

it's just fun to make moodboards dude!!!! Gotta capture the childhood vibes!!!!! this would basically be from before the Haircut Incident.

the LOVELY sketch of LBH and SY is made by @lady-dysnomia the art may be AFTER the magical hair moment but like lookit how pretty it is how could I not include it???

[aalissy]

Soulmate Markers

Just a short fluffy lil soulmate AU for today's chapter :). I hope you like it! I love writing my fluffy Adrienette hehe. Plus, I always loveee writing soulmate AU's. Lemme know what you think <3

AO3

Adrien lay flat on his stomach in bed, a smile slowly stretching across his lips as he watched Marinette’s doodles come to life on his own arm. He delicately traced over the little flowers and stars that she had drawn, breathing out in awe. 

Every day he was grateful that he had found her. That very first day when he crashed into her and found that the little sketches she doodled on her arm matched the ones his soulmate had drawn on his own arm was everything.  

After finding each other, the two could barely stop writing little notes and messages to each other. Most of the time it was Adrien teasing Marinette that she was late. Again.

He shot a longing glance over at Plagg, wishing he could transform and head over to see her. But, alas, his kwami was passed out on the pillow next to him, snoring as dreams of cheese were surely filling his head.

Not wanting to disturb Plagg, Adrien quickly grabbed for a pen, scribbling on his unmarked arm.

You seem to be doodling instead of working on our physics homework there, Mari.

He bit his lip to stifle the large smile as the doodles suddenly ceased. There was a slight pause before his arm began to tingle as Marinette began to write back.

How do you know I haven’t already finished it yet and am taking a much-needed break?

Adrien snorted at the idea of Marinette having already finished all of her homework. Usually, she waited until the last minute for the classes she disliked the most.

Do you mean besides the fact that I also haven’t finished the whole assignment yet? 

He took a short pause, letting Marinette read the words that he had scrawled across the inside of his wrist before he struck an even bigger point.

Or, how about the fact that you haven’t stopped doodling since we left school? Did you have time to even start the physics homework yet?

Shush you! I’ve only just gotten home! I don’t need to worry about the homework yet.

Marinette's protestations were met with a playful chuckle from Adrien. He knew her procrastination tactics well. There was a brief enough break from her scribblings that Adrien felt a twinge of sadness in his chest. It hadn’t even been five minutes yet and already he missed talking to her. He couldn’t imagine what life would be like if they didn’t have this constant method of communication.

Soon, though, the tingle on his forearm appeared again and Adrien eagerly stared down at the words that were slowly appearing.

Have you gotten the answer to number 3 yet?

Hold on!

Springing up out of bed, he raced over to his desk. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out the piece of scratch paper that he was using to solve the equations. 

Together, they began working on the problems, their minds synchronizing as they tackled the physics problems. Adrien marveled at Marinette's ability to grasp concepts quickly, her work clear and concise even as they used their arms to describe the answers they were getting. Quickly, with both of them working together, the two finished their homework.

Great work, Mari! 

Can I go back to doodling now, teacher?

Only if you keep doodling on your arm so that I can see.

Adrien could only imagine the light pink tinge that would light up her cheeks and for about the millionth time he wished he was with her so he could see it. This time, no reply of words came from Marinette. Instead, just as he requested, a trail of doodles began to replace over the words that they had previously written to each other.

He sighed happily, rubbing his thumb over the tiny images that were blooming along his arm. His father was certainly going to yell at him about his soulmate's pictures again. Something about how it tainted his perfect skin, but Adrien didn’t care. Not with the way Marinette was currently sketching a tiny heart with the letters A + M scratched into it.

Adrien beamed before he gave a series of happy cackles. Every day he sincerely wondered how he had gotten so lucky. His soulmate was the best one of them all and no one could ever... would ever get in the way of that.

[thedragonagelesbian]

@isayashai replied to your post “I should write smthing......”:

kyr x sosiel sketching/painting fic 👁 ? cyrus x halsin cuddles? 👀

​wahhhhhhhhhhhh thank you <33333 yes much to consider.. it's not a full fic, but you inspired me to write a lil something for kyr & sosiel!!

Wrong. And wrong again. Paper crumpled, charcoal smudged, one hand heavy and aching, the other still a fist wrapped around the ghost of Graham's collar, both trembling in the wick-thin light of the guttering candle.

Another sketch. Another scowl. Tore the page from his sketchbook, tossed it aside, and tried again.

Grapes on the vine turned to strips of whipped, peeling skin.

"Sosiel..." Eyes like his own that he could not recognize no matter how many times he drew them, dredging warmth up from the recesses of his memories only for it to turn cold at the tips of his fingers. Again, again, again, he had to get it right-- "Sosiel."

Kyr's voice was sharper the second time, but it was his hands that broke Sosiel from his stupor, palms cool against the fever pitch of his cheeks. Sosiel blinked, and suddenly he was in the study again. In his body. Sore from base of his skull to his knuckles to the pit of his empty stomach, stiff even in his thoughts as he looked up at the Knight Commander.

"What is all this?"

Sosiel realized for the first time that he had destroyed half his sketchbook in one sitting, desk and floor alike littered with his failed attempts.

He shuddered.

"A foolish endeavor, nothing more."

Kyr glanced down at the last thing Sosiel had drawn: a man whose smile had become a snarl despite his every effort.

"Your brother?"

"Trever..." Sosiel couldn't say his name in anything other than a whisper, the kind of frightened prayer that came at the end of the world. "A-as best I can remember him, but I can't... I see him so clearly in my mind's eye, as the good, kind man I knew him to be, and yet every time I try to draw him, the image is distorted. As if my hand knows that it is a lie. And now when I try to think of him, it all blurs together. Everything that the Hellknight told us, all that vile cruelty taints my memories."

He spoke faster and faster, as if trying to catch up to that memory of Trever before it slipped from his fingers entirely, words and images spilling.

"If I forget him now," tears bleeding together, suddenly slow, "the only thing left will be a monster."

And Kyr. Aeon. Judge. A dhampir fit for hating other monsters. Would do his duty if they found him.

And would that not be justice?

"It will not be the only thing." There was something in Kyr's voice. A slight, hesitant quiver against his usual dry deliberation. "Remember what Halaseliax told us: as long as someone is alive, they can still change. Trever still has that. Will always have that. The possibility for redemption."

Whatever Sosiel had been expecting Kyr to say to comfort him--perhaps nothing at all, perhaps his wounds were not worth tending, made to be borne alone--it was not that.

Not after Kyr had warred with himself so bitterly just to let one cultist leave Terendelev's lair.

Sosiel looked up at him through watery eyes. "Do you really believe that?"

Surely you of all people must believe that we can all change for the better.

I have not changed.

"Yes." Kyr's thumb traced the tears along Sosiel's cheekbone. "I am trying to. Believe. In this, in second chances and salvation and choosing to be better. We will give Trever that chance when we find him."

These sketches--messy, brutal, unforgiving toward subject and artist alike--had made for poor worship of Shelyn. As, it seemed, did most of Sosiel's drawings these days, dwelling on the mutated flesh of Areelu's lab and the Ivory Sanctum. Whatever faith he still nurtured, a seedling of beauty tucked away, preserved but hidden, it flourished now. Not as any fruit or flower, something that would inevitably spoil and rot, but evergreen, pine needles all the more beautiful for the snow their boughs supported.

"Thank you..." Sosiel's voice broke with his body, unable to sit upright any longer. He crushed himself against Kyr instead, too feverish for his usual worries about impropriety. Instinctive, safe, hopeful as he nuzzled the other man's chest. Listened to that death-slow pulse beneath his shuddering. "Thank you, thank you."

It took a moment--it always did--but Kyr wrapped his arms around him and held him tight. "You're welcome."

[bara-izu]

Do you have any advice for doing comics? Like do you plan them out before hand or let the story develop itself as you go?

I do mostly plan, but sometimes the scene changes as panels are drawn out! Personally i try to keep it loose but with a general idea of a start and finish, like, whats the main thing i want to get across-

This might get long so lemme break this up :D

My comics usually start with dialogue exchanges or a specific interaction (object or person), which i then branch out from- i try and thumbnail these ideas down asap, just really shitty sketches so i can move chop and change their positions as i see fit~

Lil behind the scenes of some of my recent ones with their crappy thumbs (which i admit sometimes have more charm then the finished but alas, we roll)

For longer comics i will write a script out eg.

H (awkwardly looking away): Sorry... i just, have a lot on my mind... and well.... in it A (a faked smile, monotone voice): Ha. Ha. funny.

For me, i do try and think about the scenes as if they were storyboards for a film rather than comics... (hence why most of my panels are just uninteresting long boxes) so i use a lot of cinematography approaches to the framing (close ups, establishing shots ect) The other main thing you're then going to want to think about is:

Leaving enough room for speech bubbles (i'm bad at this, but this is why we script beforehand)

Arranging your speech bubbles to lead the reader around your art

The first thing people will look at is the speech bubbles in a panel. While 'leading lines' are a great way to help guide you in the right direction to read, having the bubbles arranged in a way that leads the eye is also useful!

(this is from my upcoming story 'Be Gay Do Crime', this is however a scrapped version of the prologue which is currently being editted)

Pacing is also incredibly important! And i dont just mean the scene itself- but also the way the dialogue is presented! For example:

Breaking up the speech bubbles puts pauses between the sentence, spaces out the way a character speaks and gives them a bit more personality. (of course you don't have to break everything up into 2 word boxes, this is just an example)

If there is anything i've missed, let me know- this is the main bits i could think of off the top of my head! i hope it helps!

[kirchefuchs]

ann found my ask and made me do my hw huhu

BUT ANYWAY

no rant tonight (it's 9pm in my area) lol– just felt like coming over here cuz ✨burnout✨

how r u doin, Ceres? :D? Anything on your mind as you're reading this?

[I also request a good ol patpat on the head for Lux hehe lil guy deserves it <33 /p]

— 🅰️non || 05/07/2023 [PS: Happy #Speak Your Language day!! Nais ko sa iyo ang pinakamahusay na swerte :D!!]

I just woke up so no thoughts, head empty. But I do have this spare sketch of Stanley giving human Lux a lil kiss on the cheek *sleepy thumbs up*

[echonvoid]

Ninja go art dump of shit I didn’t post back in 2022

Most of these are just character sketches from when I was first trying clip studio out.

Pics in order from top left over:

1) glowy lava arms cole with newly found baby wu. Because I adore children and dad cole and lava cole are both great. So of course I did both

2) slightly pissed lightning Jay, that or he’s happy, I don’t really remember. And fun fact, in this headcanon/au/rewrite, Jay is bigender and/or genderqueer. They’re still figuring this shit out.

3) full body emo genderless lloyd. Has both oni and dragon traits, but they’re apart of their natural physical form. So all the traits you see here are non-optional. Pronouns: they/them

4) lloyd heads! Sweet baby boi! They desperately need therapy. And they unlocked their oni form back in March of the Oni. The purple eye is just something they were born with too. Purple eyes are relatively common among the oni

5) the Lilly Griefstriker family tree. God I love how they handled coles mom and her sickness and badassery. Lilly was goddamn fantastic. Anyway here she was a mixed race kid from between the Geckles and Munce from a small tribe from further down the mines near where the Upply lived. The tribe was killed by a cave in so she fled towards the surface and was met with hostility. So she ran off and was eventually adopted by the dude who’s canonically her dad. She trains and becomes the earth master and goes and frees her people from the dragon. She also helped the only woman there who was kind to her in the beginning while she was giving birth to Gleck (his vibe gave off much younger sibling or cousin vibes). After she killed the dragon she left again because she couldn’t take the hatred between the clans. She would come visit ever couple of months and eventually gave Gleck that locket. And then she has a kid and dies of a horrible chronic sickness that she suffered from for about 10yrs. Oh yeah cole and CJ are there too! Cole definitely takes after his dad but still has a lot of Lilly in him. And CJ is baby Wu. Except he is a full reincarnation/rebirth and so he ages like a normal kid. And totally is, he’s lil Cole Jr. Cole and Jay are his main parents, but everyone else is still around to help out and help guard and protect him. He’s like 7-9ish here.

6) fun sketch dump of all the gender

7) and last but not least, Cole Golems. Cole sustained severe injuries after the fall, to the point the earth completely cocooned him to help the healing process along (which was definitely Lilly’s doing). During which, his consciousness transferred to these handsome rock bois. He had to mime to wear his body was at which nobody got till after MOTO was finished and done. And during clean up someone found his slowly healing/slowly fading body. Fun fact: he has to use mobility aides for the rest of his life! He got real good beating the shit out of people with his crutches. CJ loves wheelchair rides

Well, that was more of an infodump than I thought it was gonna be, but holy fuck my poor thumbs. Carpal tunnel be damned I must share the hyperfixation