#this is just because i draw him pretty thick and him being very tall and also very thick isn't the vibe

[eregar]

my most controversial heinrix opinion is that i think he's short. there's no way he's taller than 5'9" to me. he's a guy who could get things down from the top shelf but you'd have to watch him go on his tippy toes to do so.

[whore-ibly-hot]

SO glad to see part 2 of the boarding school series. AAAHHH. I really wanna draw them... Do you have any set ideas for how they look, cuz I would love to draw them

I will literally piss myself if you do art of my boys. Somebody did art for my Joey oc once, and im still in recovery. Honestly, I'm pretty fast and loose with character descriptions but I'll drop a few I'm sure of!

Pez: Tall and a little plump, gentle giant, tan skin and really long black hair, he's half indigenous, and he's got a lil freckle on his chin.

Tyler: He's actually less like, hair dyed and pierced and hardcore alt looking simply because he's too poor for affording hardcore accessories and even box dye, so he's a dirty brunette with deep brown eyes from smoking. Kind of a shitty wolf cut, but it's mostly because he can't go to the barber, so it rotates between that and being shaved.

Joseph: dirty blonde, smaller than the other boys but gangly. Like, he's short, but what little of him there is is all arms and legs. And bony, so fucking bony.

Carter: Blonde, he can be smug and satisfied at times, but he's got these cold, empty blue eyes that kind of freak everyone out, and a permenatlt neutral expression. It's impossible to tell what's in his head.

Paul Burton: Clinically unenthusiastic, he's always got a coffee in hand and is looking like he'd rather drive himself off a cliff than be here. Kind of a stubble, but just cause he can't be bothered to shave. He has dorky, super thick glasses which are not chic? And he hates them but cannot see past his hands without them. Laid back clothing wise, his shitty Hawaiian t-shirts or coffee stained worn out buttons uo barely match school dress code. Brunette, very curly hair.

Joel Murphy: DAD BOD, he's got a dad bod and a beer belly. He's kind of ashamed of not being as good looking as he was in his prime, but for as rugged as he claims to be he takes great care of his Ned Flanders looking mustache and his hair. Also a brunette. He's also got some impressive tiddies, do that's a major plus.

[x-blue-spring-x]

Omg i dreamt that a random being came to me at night when I was in bed and started fooling around with my body. I kept my eyes closed because I was scared, but he was pretty good at it so I got horny and into it.

He started fucking me slowly but deep, with a long, smooth not too thick cock, and it was goooood. I started groping his body, because duh, and it kept changing between forms- from a super buff guy to something less human and more gelatinous??

Then he switched from my pussy to my ass, and to help the transition, some kind of soft and wet protrusion was rubbing my clit a lot like a tongue would, then he stayed in his buff form to fuck me like that. Omg it was amazing. He also asked me to look at him. Since he was staying in his muscley man mood, i looked and wasn’t quite sure what i was looking at, other than a buff dusty dark purple skinned monster. Whatever counted as a mouth came down and latched to my right nipple, sending me into overwhelming pleasure that i was simultaneously trying to escape and have more of.

I only wish i was able to stay in the dream longer to come. Alas, I woke up before that could happen. In any case, i kinda like to think thats how fucking a gentle sukuna would be like, except sukuna would have a thick monster cock obviously, and probably two of them.

Oh i just remembered! I was begging the monster to change his form to have two cocks! Imagine that, a cock for each hole, sukunas tummy tongue to play with your clit and grind on, and him trying to suck your soul out of your tit.

For some reason i felt like i had to share this with you.

I am so glad you shared this with me my bby! My first JJK ask I could cry!!

Here’s some very gentle Sukuna for you ❤️

He doesn’t come to you often, the king of curses, yet most nights you find yourself waiting for him.

Not a soul knows about your strange guest. Every shared breath is trapped between you and him in a silent lovers promise. The people in your village would be frightened, and admittedly you thought it was a sign of an impending apocalypse when you first saw him, stood at the end of your sleeping pad. Impossibly tall, four arms muscle bound and ringed with the blackest ink, his red eyes had gazed at you through the velvet darkness, seeking and searching for something unknown.

He smelt of death wrapped in a smile, cinders and ashes against the heaviest amber. Intoxicating, it made your head swim, all thoughts muddied and confused like the banks of a river after heavy rains. Perhaps that was part of his strange charm, the heady drunkenness you feel in his presence, enough arrogance to drown in and a wide mouth that curls across pointed, sharp teeth.

Still, the power he holds over you, over the lands your people farm daily, is enough to encourage you to spread your thighs for him. To give the monster softness, somewhere gentle to rest for a few hours before he disappears into the mists again. You would be lying if you said it was just that through. He’s insatiable, hungry and brimming with furious need, but beyond that there’s a curious softness displayed only to you and no other. For you are chosen, special above all humans. Marked in a way that leaves no room for argument.

Dreamlike, the low moon paints everything in a blue cast, cool and dappled through the thin walls of your room. The nights are drawing in, a chill settling over the forests and mountains surrounding the small place you know as home. Your breath is steady, a little tug of the sheets to cover your shoulder. Then you hear it, the creak of the wood under his heavy feet, a scent of smoke clinging to the midnight air.

Sitting up, you’re confronted by the full breadth of him, chest rising and falling rapidly with the promise of what’s to come. He tilts his head, cat like. Those duplicate crimson eyes blinking lazily at you, dark lashes fanned under them.

Quietly you shrink from under the soft cotton, inviting him closer without needing to speak. His nose twitches as he inhales, a smile curving across his broad mouth until his sharp teeth snare his bottom lip.

“So eager. Did you miss me?” Voice a low rumble, thunder purring beneath the surface of it, Sukuna regards you. There’s something burning in his face, a hunger that he’s never able to satisfy when it comes to you, so pliant and weak in his wide palms and under the bite of his canines.

Your response is a nod, shy and timid as it’s been months since you last welcomed him into your bed. The jet coloured markings across his body seem to grow darker, framing a jawline cut like glass. He lets out a low purr, padding towards your mattress while his stare narrows, taking in the flesh ripe for him, your body the only altar that’s ever seen a being like Sukuna sink to his knees. Your mouth meets his, hot and heavy, never the gentle soft kisses you expect from a moonlit visitor. His tongue flicks against yours almost at once, so greedy, wholly devoid of propriety or valour.

Sukuna pins your body beneath his vast one, lower arms making short work of your night clothes as he dominates your lips, sucking until they tingle and bruise under him. His upper hands find purchase in your hair, tugging your face closer still roughly, winding against your scalp until you let out a whine of protest.

When your eyes flutter open he’s watching you, both pairs zeroed in on your expression, as his broad lower palms grip the meat of your hips.

“Don’t be rough.” You whisper. It’s a strange feeling, understanding that no other could ever demand a thing from him without receiving instant death in result. He’s still holding your locks tightly, forcing your throat close to his grinning mouth. Sukuna doesn’t look angry, instead he seems faintly surprised, probably because the nature of your relationship has been mainly carnal as opposed to intellectual.

“I know no other way.”

His voice is husky, strained even. So carefully you run your own fingers across shoulders bound by ridged strength. He purrs again, this time lower and far more gentle.

You jump slightly as a droplet of saliva hits your stomach, threading its way along the skin of your navel. The mouth on his torso matches his grin, the huge tongue lolling and seeking out the hot scent of your tight cunt. Wantonly you angle your hips up to meet it, allowing it purchase on your mound until the wetness trickles lower and you whimper at the feeling.

Sukuna lets out a noise of fierce approval, rearing up to slot your pussy against his torso, watching the way his tongue immediately dives into the heat of your core, the thick muscle lathing unforgiving strokes along your seams.

“Fuck!” He exhales, lowered eyes closing briefly with ecstasy, pale pink hair bleached white in the low light. “My little human whore did miss me then.”

Always darkly possessive, Sukuna’s thick fingers bite harshly into your thighs, spreading you wide as his lower mouth traces circles on your clit. Gasping, you grip his forearms, feeling the tendons bunch and release beneath his skin. Lights start to pop under your eyes, knees shaking so violently it makes him laugh. A vicious chuckle without any shred of sympathy. Without warning his upper set of hands find your throat, tugging you upwards and into the safe embrace of his lower limbs. You moan at that, wrenched away from the pulse of his broad tongue, the spit mixing with your slick is so viscous it drenches the mat beneath you.

Sukuna lets a tsk out at your moans. Clicking his teeth as you struggle to collect yourself, so close and yet so far from the sweet release you’ve craved.

“On my cocks, or not at all.” Face to face his whirling stare glimmers, lids heavy with the need to sink inside you.

He spits onto one palm, wrapping an arm around you and probing your tight, puckered hole. Massaging and rubbing until he can slip one thick finger in and then two. Vaguely you realise he’s showing kindness in his own way, lessening the intensity of having to take one of his shafts without any preparation.

You can feel them, heavy and dripping with creamy pre-spend as they rest between your legs. Sukuna draws you up closer to him, binding your arms tight to your sides and sliding his cocks between your thighs, coating himself in wetness until a rasping groan leaves the back of his throat.

“So fucking drenched.” Briefly his tattooed forehead rests against yours, like he’s struggling to master himself. Then with no warning, he’s breaching your body, cocks probing and parting your sticky flesh until you almost feel them in your throat. It’s almost too much, you’re so full of him, his scent clinging to your skin and filling your nose like incense. You push backwards against his chest, asking for patience, for some distraction from the burning stretch of him.

“Shhh.” His mouth finds the shell of your ear, warm air making you shiver as he opens you up for himself. That vast mouth on his stomach finds your clit again and you keen, sympathetically rolling your hips as you seek the right amount of pressure to bring yourself down from the ledge of overstimulation. It doesn’t take long for you to grow bolder, digging your nails into his marked back, begging for a movement on his side that will send you tipping off the precipice of perfection.

“Beg me.” His coarse, deep voice sounds far away as he starts to meet your feeble thrusts with the power of his own hips. “Beg me to let you cum.”

“Pp-lease!” You stammer without pausing to think. “Please my lord!”

Sukuna groans into your hair, lower arms still holding you tightly while his weighty palm contracts around your throat. He’s fucking you now without holding back, sinking deep until you drench his balls, the tongue beneath his mouth moving ceaselessly.

“Milk my cocks then, remind me how a human whore does it! Now!”

The command of his voice is final, your body is well trained to it. You cum hard, shattering around him as you choke out a cry, voice box pressed hard under his fingers. He doesn’t let up in his rhythm, but you feel him throbbing inside you, both cocks pulsing as you constrict. The pain of his bite to your neck only fuels the fire, and you lose count of how long he’s been buried within your cunt and ass, filling you to the brim with his potent seed.

When morning comes, he’s gone again. Only leaving the lingering smell of charcoal on your sheets.

Maybe you dreamt it, but you’re sure you felt someone pressing sweet kisses over your collarbone in the early haze of morning. When you wake you’re tucked up tightly, like he’s made sure to protect you from the cold even in his absence. A dainty, blood red flower sits on your pillow, leaves vibrant against the snow white linen.

Perhaps not such a monster after all.

He’s a big softy.

[authormars]

Body Types

Obviously, I cannot draw. I'll just be describing what got them to look like that and (if people want) I'll do the side characters next.

Lucifer

The eldest is first. His height is 6'5. He's the second tallest of all the brothers (only beaten by Beel) and near constantly wears heels so he's normally around 6'7.

Lucifer himself is very naturally beautiful. Like, the embodiment of perfection, mainly because of the Father making him the most perfect angel ever.

He's beautiful, and somewhat fit because Diavolo sometimes drags him with him when he works out. Lucifer himself has more of a gymnast body type (and has the flexibility to match) His muscles aren't as prominent, but he's physically strong. He's about the 3rd strongest of all the brothers (in his own way, of course. Not all strength is the same, but he's about the 3rd strongest)

Mammon

Mammon is one of the shorter brothers, being 6'0 (and a half!! So he says) He's on the shorter half of the brothers, only being taller than Belphie and Asmo.

Mammon isn't ugly, but he falls more on the handsome spectrum than Asmo on the pretty (or sexy) spectrum or Lucifer on the perfection itself spectrum. He's handsome and we love him.

Mammon is a very fast demon and is always a top runner on the track team or basically any sport like that. So Mammon has a runner build. Thick thighs save lives, ya know? Mammon is the 2nd strongest of the family.

Leviathan

Levi is very close in height to Mammon. He's middle ground among his brothers. Levi is 6'1, sandwiched right between the tall ones and the small ones.

Levi falls on the pretty spectrum like Asmo, though not as high on it as Asmo. He's a gamer boy, but Asmo forces all of his brothers to have a skincare routine, so he looks good.

Levi may be pretty, but he is not fit. Once again, he's a gamer boy and an anime nerd who barely leaves his room. He's scrawny and barely works out (besides maybe a game like beat saber) Probably one of the weakest brothers, maybe only beats Belphie

Satan

Ah, Satan. The cat boy, furry, literally every childhood best friend love interest in every romance novel. He's among the taller three brothers. He is 6'3 (and a half) and hates that Lucifer is taller than him.

Satan also falls on the pretty spectrum, but also the handsome spectrum. He's very cute, but also sort of average at the same time. (Don't question it okay)

Satan is on the Fangol team, but he's not very strong. He's a quarterback on the non-varsity team, so he's got a good throwing arm, but certainly not the best. Unlike Beel, he'd rather use his time reading over working out. The 5th strongest brother.

Asmodeus

Asmo is on the shorter half of the brothers (obviously) and is actually the shortest. He just doesn't seem like it because, like Luci, he wears heels all the time. Asmo is 5'9 normally and around 5'11-6'0 in heels.

As stated previously, Asmo falls on the pretty and sexy spectrum. He's not as perfect as Lucifer is, but he shows off far more (and takes better care of himself), so he's generally considered the prettier of the two by the public.

Asmo is similar to Lucifer in how his body type is. He's strong everywhere because he's... you know... the Avatar of Lust? He's always contorting his body in weird, freaky ways. Asmo is the 4th strongest

Beelzebub

Ah, the hunk. Beel is the tallest of the seven brothers, standing at a 6'9 in his human form (just two inches shorter than Diavolo himself!)

Beel falls under the handsome spectrum (though we can all agree he's pretty cute). He just has that strong, manly look to him. He has the jawline and the muscles, so he's pretty high on the handsome spectrum.

We've all seen Beel's physique in game. He's built like a fucking truck. He plays Fangol and is one of the best players on the Varsity team. He's constantly working out. Due to all of this, Beel gets awarded the award of strongest brother.

Belphegor

The sleepy seventh born. Belphie is on the shorter end of the brothers, being only 5'11. When he slouches (which he often is) he's around Asmo's height.

Belphie falls under the pretty spectrum, though lower than Levi on it because he doesn't do a proper skincare routine.

Belphie doesn't work out and doesn't play games that force him to work out like Levi. The only times he ever moves his body is when Beel makes him. By far the weakest brother.

Thank you for all the support I receive on these. Let me know if you want a part two with the undateables

(and if you do if someone could please tell me how tf I link a second part to this)

Feel free to ask for stories or headcanons with my ask box. I know I don't post many stories here, but that's because I haven't written any fanfiction in basically a month (yippee writing slump)

[itsdrawingmen]

I saw a dunmeshi art where they lined up the characters in their underwear, and got brainworms from it. I'm not really good at painted studies, it turns out, or maybe it just didn't work right now, but I like how the drawing came out. It was an excercise in different bodies, and I think they’re all neat.

Some headcanons and musings:

Zen has boobs, tits even, but that's canon, and all the time I was drawing him I was thinking about that selfie from his album where he's wearing a half-buttoned white shirt and his cleavage is visible. I am looking at him respectfully (not really, I am looking at him like this:

He's shaved everywhere, and he wears very plain, neutral-coloured underwear. His normal state is being pretty meaty, but he doesn’t like himself that way. He’s often dried out for his roles.

Yoosung is narrow-chested, thin, covered in moles, and comparatively kinda hairy — not by my European standards, but compared to the others here. He doesn't care about shaving, for himself or anyone else. He often wears funky boxers, and has sort of got a collection. Even when it's not funky-printed, his underwear is usually bright-coloured. He's cringe, but he's free. Also, not pictured, but he’s often covered in hickeys, normally from the chest up. Not gonna say who leaves them, but anyone who knows me even a little can take a wild guess 👀

Jaehee is wide in the hips and big-breasted. Her underwear is normally mismatched, because she doesn't care. The only thing she cares about is that it doesn't show through her clothes. In the canon timeline, she usually wears those thick stiff heavily padded bras that smooth everything out, and then over the course of the postcanon she gradually switches to softer cups. She's sedentary, often stressed, and doesn't eat well, so she's not really thin. She has acne on her face, neck, back, chest, and shoulders. She shaves because she’s too used to it, but she gradually gets more relaxed about it.

Next up is Joori Nam, the MC. She's a big, tall young woman, quite heavy and strong. She likes to show off her edgy and feisty personality in clothes and underwear, and she's also pretty expressive and energetic in gestures. She's depressed and a self-harmer. She barely shaves, only where is absolutely necessary to look ‘presentable’ for work. Otherwise, she can’t be assed.

The Chois are emaciated and scarred. They've both got some mild pectus excavatum. The Mother Choi used to stub cigarettes on them, and Saeran has got it worse.

Saeyoung is slightly more muscular and slightly less scarred. He has knobby square fingers, and nails bitten to almost nothing. He's also an active self-harmer. He's missing several toenails. All of his underwear is a little baggy on him.

Saeran is even thinner and less muscular. He has a lot of piercings, and his tattoo is blacked out into a full sleeve. He has barely any body hair at all. He is pretty much covered in cigarette burn scars, as well as scars from being whipped with cables, and several deep and crooked scars from gashes made with glass bottles.

Jumin, without his PR team, can't pose for shit. He is good at doing what they tell him, and he looks fine when photographed candidly, but as soon as he starts posing on his own, he just looks awkward and stiff. He has a weird case of CEO-body, where he's fit, but also weirdly soft in unexpected places (namely, his chest and arms). He shaves because it's 'hygienic'. He also wears briefs. Sorry, to me he looks like someone who wears briefs.

Jihyun is normally pretty toned, but after the whole ordeal with Rika and having to cover for her he has gained some weight and gotten soft. He has a long torso and wider hips and a bit of a belly. He hunches his back a lot, and picks at the skin of his fingers.

Rika is slender and dancerly, and very traditionally feminine. She’s small and graceful, not muscular, but soft, with smooth porcelain skin. She wears lingerie, always matching, always beautiful, and pretty much only owns thongs and tanga. Somehow, despite always looking up at people, she can easily make you feel like she’s looking down at you.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

🫧 ━━ JOHNNY UTAH X CHUBBY F READER IMAGINE𓈒

𓈒part I 𓈒cheeky Johnny

𓈒inspo: @tedsbogusworld’s 🤖

━━ you are bodhi’s little sister

━━ just trying to make it through college while working part-time at the aquarium

━━ your parents aren’t around anymore, so you’ve been taking care of your older brother (paying the bills and rent with tuition money, stocking the fridge, dragging him in from the yard where he’s passed out in a puddle of beer and vomit in the cool waking sunset)

━━ your big brother throws the wildest parties ; you avoid them at all costs, shut yourself in your room, hide away at the beach, stay late at work. it’s just not your scene

━━ plus, his friends aren’t nice, especially not when they’ve been drinking, and being surrounded by tall, athletic bodies in tight swimsuits is detrimental to your baggy clothed, short, chubby self esteem

one night, you get home super late, but the party is still raging. Spilled cans of liquor on your floor, an unattended bonfire that you have to put out with the hose - we’re in a drought for chist’s sake, have some common decency, bodhi.

bodhi catches you in the kitchen, much to your scowling dismay, and has someone he wants you to meet. you’re really not in the mood for his antics tonight - he’s so drunk and high he can barely keep two feet parallel with the ground - so you basically tell him to fuck off

but, bodhi is super bad at respecting boundaries. it inflates when he’s under influence. he’s got you face to face with a brand new partygoer before you have a chance to run

“hey.” big white grin, tawny skin, heavy dark eyes. you have to crane your neck to look at his face.

the music is almost too loud for you to catch bodhi’s next infuriating line. “told ya she was cute, johnny. she’s all yours.”

you basically freak out on him, shove his shoulder and start yelling and cursing and drawing attention.

you’ve spent years taking care of him, not asking for a cent from his party fund, putting up with his bullshit, and you’re so fucking tired of him making fun of you just because you’re not a skinny surfing meat head. after you rip him a new asshole, you storm off.

you could go to your room, but that would mean shouldering through a crowd, so you opt for a long walk on the pier instead.

as you’re watching the dark ocean waves crash and spray against support beams, you feel a hand on your shoulder. you turn around, ready to fight, but it’s just bodhi’s new friend.

lowering your fist and replacing it with a scowl, you turn back around to face the open sea and ignore mr. tall dark and handsome.

“hey.” he leans on the railing beside you, accidentally scrapes his forearm on a barnacle and starts bleeding. “ah, fuck.”

“you’ve never been to a beach town, huh?” his arm is in your hand and you’re using your old tshirt to wipe the trickling red from his skin.

he smiles at you, boyishly, gives this coy bat of thick lashes that makes your tummy uneasy. you hope he doesn’t notice the abrupt way you let his arm flop. little tickly crabs crawl over your skin as you turn away.

“got a bandaid?”

“you’ll live.”

“ouch. hey, I think we got off on the wrong foot. i’m johnny, just moved here.”

“hullo, johnny just moved here, i’m not interested in company.”

he seems way too amused by your venom, lets loose a little chuckle. “you’re not very friendly, are you?”

“not to bodhi’s cult, no.”

“man, what is your problem?” he shakes his head and kicks dried salt. “you have the hots for me or something?”

stiffened shoulders, shrinking posture, eyes unable to hold his own. it’s all the info he needs. he gets a big grin that makes you want to jump right off the pier and let the angry water swallow you up.

“oh, yeah?” he tugs his bottom lip into the toothy smile, nudges your shoulder. “listen, just cuz i’m pretty doesn’t mean i’m a dickwad.”

“yeah, it does.” you think you’re insulting him, but really what you’ve just done is confirmed that you do think he’s pretty - the quiet, thick quiver in your voice doesn’t help your case.

“thanks, sweetheart.”

now you have a better idea - push him off the pier. instead, you walk away.

“oh, she’s adorable.”

[ssentimentals]

f1 pairings as famous love tropes: charles leclerc x carlos sainz

love at first sight (fashion designer!AU)

'birds started singing and heaven fell down upon us the moment my eyes landed on you'

charles is panicking. he is also frustrated, but as of right now panic holds a bigger proportion in the overall share of his feelings. he is late and charles leclerc is never late. all final sketches for his spring-summer collection are ready except one final piece, the grand finale as charles likes to call it. frustration gnaws at his mind because whole collection apart from that final piece was ready and done in the first week - his short vacation in spain inspired him more than he would've thought. he locked himself up in his studio and let beauty come out of the drawings and god, he's never been prouder. every single piece of this collection reminds him of a gentle breeze, warm sea waves, pastel colored flowers on the beach. it's beautiful, it's wonderful and it's incomplete. charles might just kill someone.

loud groan makes everyone look up and he hastily throws last three sketches into the bin, wanting to set the whole thing on fire. clock on the wall almost mocks him, reminds him that he has only five hours left but five hours are not enough for perfection to be created and charles refuses to settle for anything less than perfect.

'go home, everyone.' charles announces, trying to keep anger out of his voice. it's no one's fault but his that collection is unfinished, anyway. 'you can finish your work tomorrow.'

at first no one moves, but when charles pointedly goes back to drawing ignoring everyone, his workers quickly free his studio, flocking one by one until only pierre stays. 'i decided that you could use some inspiration,' he starts, coming closer. 'so i invited several models to stop by.'

charles scoffs, not looking up. 'stupid idea. faces do not inspire me.'

'but those are models! you'll have to make a fitting check on some anways.' pierre tries. 'just be nice, yeah? i'll leave now, but like five of them should come now and oh, i prepared all the docs for the guy from audit, he should also be here shortly.' pierre reaches out and squeezes charles's shoulder lovingly. 'don't stress, calamar. you got this.'

'i don't.' charles cuts out, sighing. 'just go and don't forget to bring me something for dinner.'

pierre scoffs and mutters something about being used but charles is already focused on the drawing. twirling pencil with his fingers, he tries to imagine which look would fit the most for closing the show. his head is usually full of ideas but right now it's empty and only irrelevant memories from vacation spring up, carrying nothing helpful to his case. it's like he used up all of his creativity, which in itself is a very depressing thought; charles thinks it's time to add desperation to his mix of feelings. his eyes move from one sketch to another over and over again, hoping that answer is somewhere there. what is it that he's missing? which piece, which color combination, which-

'um, pardon? i came to-'

'what?!' charles barks out loudly at the interruption. fuck, he was getting somewhere, who dared to interrupt him now? 'what-'

oh. charles blinks at the sight of a tall man in front of him. he blinks again for good measure, just to make sure that his eyes are not playing tricks with him because he had too much caffeine. man in front of him looks like he stepped out of some editorial magazine with his stylishly combed dark hair and big brown eyes. charles is not a stranger to pretty faces; being a fashion designer somehow made him immune to shiny outer appereance of models and celebrities. his breath doesn't get knocked down, his pulse doesn't thrum and his heart doesn't beat faster from an objectively attractive face. it never did, anyway. until right now.

charles takes two steps closer, needing to inspect further. gorgeous tanned skin, plush lips, strong nose, thick neck. there's a bit of stubble on his jawline, which only accentuates how sharp it is. simple blue linen shirt hugs him nicely, stretches over his broad shoulders and only makes his skin tone look even more alluring with the contrast of light color on a tanned body. first two buttons undone are enough to make him look less formal but still not overly casual; peak of collarbones doesn't go unnoticed either. tucked in a fitted pair of straight jeans that make his legs look like they stretch for miles, hugging his thighs just a little to tease the shape - this man looks like -

'god,' charles whispers, awe unhidden in his voice. 'my god.'

perfect dark eyebrow rises up at this. 'i came for-'

'pierre told me,' charles interrupts, stepping even closer. 'you just need to stay here and not move, okay? just don't move.'

charles rushes back, grabs his sketchbook and starts working. 'what's your name?' he asks absentmindedly, chewing on his pencil.

'carlos.' thick accent sips through the cracks.

'perfect,' charles whispers, not looking up. 'absolutely perfect.'

carlos looks like sea. like when you stare at it and in the distance it's almost glowing from the sunlight reflected on it. carlos looks like lazy sunday afternoon, when you have nothing to do and nowhere to be, when your own company is your sole entertainment and that is enough. carlos looks like he is number one. it's in the way he is obviously sun's favorite boy from the way his skin is sunkissed all over; it's in the way god took it's time to make him the way he is to show people that perfection exists. carlos looks soft. his hair, his lips, his eyes - all is soft. god, especially his eyes. charles pauses and looks up, breath hitching at the way carlos is already looking back at him. non artistic people would've called those eyes 'doe eyes' or 'bambi eyes' but thankfully charles is an artist and he knows what those eyes really are. they are love. they are expressive even when their owner stays silent, they are talking and the stories they tell send a thrill down charles's spine. he feels it all - the breath knocked out, pulse thrumming, heart beating twice as fast thing. he stares like a masochist because it's painful to stare, charles doesn't think he should have a right to do so for free, but looking away feels criminal. carlos stares back, anyway. he doesn't say anything and he doesn't have to, his eyes talk for him. they are curious, swimming with possibilities and questions - charles wants to answer them all, wants to grab him by the hand and tell him that everything is possible, he will make it become possible for him.

'where are you from?' charles breaks the silence, looking down at his sketch and continuing his work.

'spain. madrid, specifically.'

god, of course this embodiement of a sun is from spain, from a region where sun shines with all the love and gentleness on its' people. it's so fitting, too. charles can easily picture carlos there, can see how he'll fight right in with all the incredible architecture and colorful nature and- that's it. that's the key. his final piece. charles works without breathing, overtaken by his vision - a modern piece, the kind which looks good for a stroll on the bustling madrid street and fits a nice time in nature. a perfect balance, one that attracts attention not because it's loud but because it's so confident. like carlos. huh, so much for 'faces do not inspire me'.

'from which agency you are?' charles asks, moving to another sketch. he needs to check angles but now that he's got an idea, everything else will come to him easier. 'you can start stripping now, i'll do the color check. i think terracota will look amazing on you, let me check if we have any samples left.'

he stands up to go check fabrics but stops, when carlos just stares back at him, unmoving. he opens his mouth to ask what's wrong, when someone knocks and several guys enter one by one. 'hello,' one of them starts. 'we are here for fit check. pierre sent us.'

charles frowns. charles is also not stupid so he connects dots quickly enough to realize that carlos is- 'you are the audit guy,' he breathes out and carlos offers a small smile in response. 'holy shit.'

'i'm flattered you thought that i am one of those guys,' carlos tilts his head to the side of newcomers. 'they are models, no?' charles nods and he chuckles, shaking his head. 'nice. thanks, i guess.'

'i'm so sorry,' charles mutters, feeling heat rising to his cheeks. god, blush doesn't suit him, can he not blush right now?

'you caught me off guard there with your stripping part,' carlos comments and his voice is so smooth and melodic, charles never wants him to stop talking. 'i was going to say that you could've at least asked me out to dinner first.'

charles stares at carlos with eyebrows pushed up his hairline. what is happening right now? throat clearance from waiting guys brings him out of his thoughts though and he quickly asks them to wait outside for few minutes, needing to stay alone with carlos. he finds docs that pierre left for him and comes closer, holding them tightly. this close scent of carlos's cologne makes his head spin a little: it's a wave of ocean at first but with a twist of something sweeter, darker, which pulls you in. charles feels like he's about to drown.

'those are for me?' carlos asks, pointing at the docs. 'from pierre, right?'

charles nods and doesn't make a move to hand them to carlos. carlos is also not taking them and they are stuck at this staring contest, which is ridiculous but how can charles let him go? his muse, his final piece? 'you are it,' he lets out, holding eye contact with carlos, which is not an easy thing when having carlos's eyes on him feels electric. 'my- i needed my final piece. i have it now, i know how it'll look. i drew it just now, you are-'

'can i see?' carlos interrupts.

charles doesn't show his unfinished sketches to anyone. he also doesn't fall head over heels for guys from audit but this day is full of firsts, apparently. carlos stands by his side when charles hands him his sketchbook and the way his eyes trace every single detail of the lines make charles feel giddy. he waits impatiently, practically buzzing with energy by the time carlos returns him the sketchbook.

'it's beautiful,' he says and his tone is different. it's softer than before, filled with honey, honesty and promise. 'very, very pretty.'

charles almost says something idiotic like not as pretty as you but thankfully he still has head to mouth filter. he bites his lower lip and feels a surge of power in the way carlos immediately looks down, the way those eyes instantly zero on this action. his eyes are always talking even when he doesn't; his eyes are love and right now charles's own hunger is reflected in them. kiss me charles want to whisper. you can take me right now and i will succumb to you the way artists succumb to their muses, wholeheartedly and inevitably.

'what's your name?' carlos asks and if there's a slight drop in his voice, none of them mention it.

'charles.' his own name feels foreign on his tongue. 'leclerc.'

carlos hums, tracing lovingly charles's face with his eyes. 'leave those docs here, charles. i need an excuse to come here again.'

there's no way that carlos doesn't hear loud beating of his heart. heat blooms in the short space between them and charles wants. god, how much he wants. he nods, not trusting his voice not to crack if he speaks.

'i will come tomorrow,' carlos says and there it is, the promise that charles heard so clearly in his tone. 'when you will not have five handsome models waiting to strip for you. when will that be?'

'come today,' charles lets out, not caring if he's acting desperate. 'after eight.'

carlos doesn't seem to think that he's desperate. fire in his eyes ignites and oh, he wants, too. he looks at charles like he wants to forget that he's on work and that there are people waiting for him outside of the door; he looks at charles like charles wants him to look at him. oh, this is wonderful.

'after eight.' carlos agrees and it's a promise again. sweet like honey.

charles stays under some spell for few minutes after carlos is gone and it takes a loud 'shall we start?' from a model to kickstart his brain again. he quickly fishes out his phone and sends pierre text message: 'audit guy dropped by. final piece is ready. do not come to bring me dinner, do not come at all' and takes a deep breath. time to work.

a/n: my love ode for carlos and his eyes is done, please take it and hold it with care :') come to my inbox with suggestions of which other pairings i should write for! - nini

my other formula 1 writings are here

my seventeen writings are here

[loud-sound]

(part 1 of part 2!!)

for shits n giggles, i tried my hand at redesigning dr stone characters (read: three)

i have too many emotions when it comes to this show's character design lmao. a vicious hate-love of the century

a couple of my process notes if anyone's interested: (vague spoilers up to season 3 of the anime)

there's a criminal lack of skin tones that i immediately wanted to take advantage of; and before Certain People start saying race-swapping; none is happening here, it's all just taking account of tanning and sunburns. sunscreen is a thing of the past here and a lot of time is spent outdoors in order to gather food

dramatic shifts in skin tones from what's given at birth happen pretty frequently in real life even with A/C and sunscreen; a huge missed opportunity to play with this in the color department methinks, but here we are (don't even get me started on the massive range of skin tones in east asian genetics alone)

so i played around a bit with contrast, nothing outlandish aside from giving Kohaku noticeable sunburns and freckles from (1) having caucasian blood in her to begin with and (2) not having access to any of the skin products our moderners would have

that being said, realism in the clothing color department was just about entirely thrown out the window. the blue dyes we know about are nowhere (naturally) near Japan, and here Ishigami village is in canon with deep navy on every villager; Inagaki and Boichi decided realism specifically here wasn't as important as color symbolism (which i personally think was a good creative decision), so cut me some slack-

so for colors it was just my personal taste on streamlining the palettes-

Gen in particular i thought would benefit from exposed shoulders without taking away how he needs bigger sleeves to hide shit up there. a lot of the guys have plain shirts and sleeves or just go shirtless entirely and i felt like it'd be fun to have him wear something in between to really push the magician/entertainer vibe

hairstyles were changed mostly to be easier to draw and to make their silhouettes just a bit easier to distinguish from each other. (hair colors were untouched except for Kohaku, purely because i have a personal preference for the more natural blonde color than any actual design significance lmao)

partial exception for Kohaku, cuz it annoyed me that the other characters say she has super thick, unruly hair...but then her hair is drawn no differently from everyone else's 💀

didn't wanna play into the stereotype of naturally curly hair being seen as something to be fixed (especially within the context of a makeover-), so i tried to imply chronically unbrushed hairdsjfsdf

can you tell from how many bullets are here about Kohaku how i feel about her design? last thing: body types.

Gen is supposed to be significantly tall, Kohaku is one of the strongest characters while being one of the shortest; it is very hard to tell that from their designs alone. it's mostly just the limitations of Boichi's art style,,,proportions that's i'm aware is nitpicky, but i wanted to show it here anyway 💀💀💀

smth smth disclaimer about subjectivitydsfsdfsd-

uhhhh, congrats for reading all that, have some silhouettes!

[wwillywonka]

when you're writing heaven on their minds, what version of willy is in your mind? is it depp wonka or wilder wonka? I know for sure it's not chalamet wonka. or maybe the musical ones? borle or snook?

hi anon! thanks so much for the question!<3

i try to emulate this in heaven on their minds by the very fact that i include bits and pieces from all versions of canon, but my willy is very much an amalgamation of every willy. and when i say every, i mean every, which is why i reward myself (with the self-awareness of its pomposity) with the Wonka Expert title - because i don't consider just one willy wonka to be The willy wonka; they're all him and he cannot exist without every piece of himself.

in terms of physical appearance, i've shared my art of him on here (and on my instagram @/corduroycyborg), and those drawings are about as close as i can get to portraying how he looks in my mind: tall but too thin for his height, mid-length thick curly chocolate-coloured (ha!) hair that he straightens within an inch of its life, deep set electric purple eyes that can increase or decrease in saturation depending on his mood, nose like a rabbit's, perfect teeth and painted nails and gold jewellery and always a thick layer of makeup to hide his insecurities. i also go back and forth a lot in my head about his race considering i myself am mixed asian and pretty much project everything about myself on him. but i like to keep it ambiguous to make him an accessible character for all readers, an intentional choice that plays into the themes in hotm of him feeling like he isn't a person without the media and his fans telling him who he is. hotm (my) willy is definitely more based on 2005 because that is my favorite version (and because i am hopelessly, unfortunately attracted to twink johnny depp for no reason) but also because i feel like that movie does the best job of externalising his inner self through his appearance. wilder wonka is classic, of course, but i've always thought, even as a kid, that he just looks too damn nice, is too charismatic. wilder wonka, while definitely mad (the boat scene>>>), is just a big ol' teddy bear. his hair looks so soft, and the way he picks up charlie and twirls him around is so 🥺🥺🥺. gene wilder himself said that he wanted his wonka to look trustworthy so that he could focus on making his personality unpredictable, which i appreciate and think works well in the 1971 movie - but willy is supposed to be antisocial and scary and off-putting. it makes him so much more interesting to me. the original book describes him as bright and colorful, yes, but also as someone charlie immediately wants to unpack, to study, to understand. and the way wilder wonka doesn't even wear gloves...!! that's a hugely essential part of willy's character and his adversity to the outside world, and it just isn't present in what is typically considered the "best" version.

in chapter 7, i describe willy lounging in a oscar wilde-esque fashion, with a floral robe and lipstick and a french bob. i know this is technically me stretching the femininity of depp wonka perhaps a little too far, but it's my own special charm i've built around the character in the past many years of him being my favorite character of all time. perhaps it's just me being really bisexual and projecting my particular type and relationship with gender onto him; i accept that and own it. i will forcibly feminize my blorbos all i want and that is my right. now, to address gareth snook wonka. tbh the worst wonka look besides the unspeakable tom and jerry movie. THAT BEING SAID, uk tour willy is probably my favorite portrayal of the character ever. he's unpredictable, he's scary, and his attractiveness and charms are so unexpected but make so much sense in the most surprising ways - snook wonka is cunty, i'll say it. mix his personality with depp and that's MY willy!!!

and yeah, definitely no chalamet wonka. i literally don't think about him at all while writing the character unless i'm considering how noodle fits into the story. and i've said this before but i don't care for borle wonka even though i know he's a fan favorite. sorry lol.

TLDR: 93% depp, 6% snook, 4% dahl, and 2% wilder. ("but that's 105%!" yes.)

((p.s. the artist who appears most on the big unpublished playlist i have for him is lana del rey. if that helps paint a picture🎀🍫🐇🍒).

[pumpkinspice-prouvaire]

Hello!!! I just finished your zombie apocalypse fic a while ago, Crack of Dawn, All is Gone? Needless to say it was spectacular, the ending is just so good. I was wondering if you could describe the physical appearances of the 4 of them a bit in detail? I really want to draw fanart hehe.

You're an amazing author! All of your fics are so good :D

omg hiiii!!! Thank u so much for this and for all of your lovely comments on my fics. I've been having kind of a challenging few weeks and seeing a barrage of new comments from you was always a lil bright spot in the middle of The HorrorsTM, so thank you for that 🥹🥹🥹 I can't promise my physical descriptions will be any good, but they're here anyway!

Enjolras, I actually have a clear faceclaim for for this fic, which is the model Michael Lockley! So yah, tall and thin, big dark eyes, very very pretty

Given that they're twins in this fic, as long as Cosette looks kind of similar to Enjolras, you're good! I think the main difference is that her hair is a darker blond than Enjolras', and that she wears it in long braids instead of natural.

Appearance-wise, my Grantaire is always similar to George Blagden. I was here since 2012 you can't ask me to change my ways now. I think the main difference is that he's short and stocky, with big broad shoulders and chest. Also he has a big thick black beard, good for him.

Marius I picture as being tall and gangly, like a baby giraffe who doesn't quite know how to manage all its limbs in unison yet. He's pale, freckly, and has lots of red hair and big brown eyes with not a single thought behind them. Also dimples. Because I can.

Given it's a zombie apocolypse fic, they'll all be fairly scrunkly and messy, like realistically all the guys are gonna have a good amount of facial hair, not just Grantaire! Up to you if you wanna include that though, I certainly didn't when I was picturing them lmao

Thank u again for the ask, tag me if you ever do end up posting fanart I would absolutely love to see it <3 <3 <3

[unlikelysaintdelele]

I love remembering I have OCs for video games. The full game isn’t out yet, but the demo has me foaming at the mouth for more. So here are the girls and some brief descriptions~

They’ll develop more when the full game comes out.

The Unnamed: Samara

Romance: Ais, Kuras

She’s usually very patient and kind, but after finding out her blessing was actually a curse, her faith has been rattled. She’s snappy if pushed and a lil on edge. She felt very drawn to Kuras (something about him felt familiar) and Ais (the hive mind thing reminded her of the lies the temple told her about her curse, but it felt very different), distrustful of Leander (too charming), and doesn’t care too much about Vere (strong sense of danger). She finds Mhin amusing at best, rude at worst, and is only slightly taller than them. She likes baking, gardening, art, and languages (she liked being able to talk to everyone who visited the temple). She dislikes… bitter food and drinks ig.

She has rather average coloring and height, but she is by no means an average beauty. brown hair with deep waves and big brown eyes. I can’t out of my head that she has these soft pouty princess peach lips. I feel like kids would see her at the temple and think she’s a princess from a fairytale.

The Alchemist: Adrienne

Romance: Leander, Mhin

Tall, lithe, and long ass hair. Around four inches taller than Mhin, lol. She’s a bit reserved and may or may not trust a lil too easily. It’s a bit questionable because, despite being wary at first, Leander very easily won her over, there’s no way she’d get anywhere near Vere or Ais if she can help it. Mostly Vere. Being able to read Leander’s magic definitely helped. As for Mhin, their shared goal is what draws her to them, and she finds Mhin pretty. She really likes pretty clothing (and jewelry and shoes and faces) and history books. She dislikes ill-fitting or mismatched clothing, getting dirty, and not knowing.

Midnight black hair, it’s thick and well cared for. Since she’s a spellcaster, I wanted her to look magical as well, so I gave her violet eyes. I also imagine her tanned, around Vere and Elyon’s shade.

The Hound: Tori

Romance: Vere

Ngl, I liked Vere upon meeting him, but then I died when I followed him out the tavern so I noped out of that rq. I felt he deserved love nonetheless but the two other girls already have personalities that would avoid him at all costs. So Vere gets a big tiddie bimbo who is lowkey a muscle mommy. I say lowkey because she was kind of a runt when she was younger, always smaller than other kids her age, and she never quite grew out of that. She worked hard to earn her strength and takes pride in her scars. Anyways, Leander and Kuras’ charity doesn’t sit well with her and she just finds Mhin annoying. Ais is just funny to her and she’s a horndog for Vere. Suffocating between his thighs would be a good death. She likes fighting, money, and a certain red-haired demon.

She’s got a strawberry blonde hair situation that she keeps a little below chin length. Her eyes are green-blue, they look greener under direct lighting but are often mistaken for dark blue since she’s usually wearing a hood or in shadow. I like to imagine her with a bunch of freckles.

Side note: in my mind, Adrienne and Tori aren’t nearly as rattled by what happened in their backstories since they were raised to question and never fully trust what they first see. Adrienne because of her thorough education and Tori because she was literally raised by criminals. Samara was taught to trust, to not question, so her world was really turned upside down in her backstory. Tori is hurt but isn’t too surprised, more annoyed. Adrienne is… confused but powering through. She really looked up to her teacher, and would probably feel very broken up about it if she let herself, but she is too disciplined and determined to let herself get distracted by betrayal. Especially when she’s so close to a cure. Samara is just going a lil crazy but it’s good for her.

[imaginedreamwrite]

Picture Number 1 is giving Thick Thighs save Lives vibes.

City girl visits the stables to see the boys but can’t find them. She sees this beautiful horse and starts talking to it and walking forward. The boys walk in and start getting nervous and trying to get her away because the horse tends to have an attitude but she gets near and the horse loves her. Very Snow White-ish 😂

“Boys are off property and outside doing work,” Becca addresses you before you can even get your boots on, sending the directive with a kind of smirk like she knows what you’re going to go before you do it.

“I’m going for a walk, not a…” you bite the inside of your cheek, teeth tugging at the skin that was nothing more than a bad and nervous habit, “…I’m not going to have sex-”

“Save a horse-” Becca chortled, teasing you and even continuing to speak even after you’d left the house and slammed the door.

You stepped off the porch and listened to the gravel crunch beneath your boots that Ari bought you after your first riding disaster. The first time you’d been on a horse, your foot slipped through the stirrup due to a lack of heeled boot, and your toe hit the horse at an odd angle. While your mount hadn’t bucked you off or got spooked enough to run, it had prompted Ari to buy you boots.

The on-site vet was concerned about you, and the horses well-being, and had returned the next day with a brand new pair.

“Save a horse ride a cowboy.” You scoffed and stepped through the open door of the barn, watching the few horses inside either pay you no mind or watching you carefully.

You’d been in the barn with Becca a handful of times before, and of course with Ari, Bucky, Hal & Steve. Being here on your own was a different experience, being here on your own had given you a different perspective of the structure that was a safe place for their horses.

“You’re new,” you crooned at the horse you hadn’t seen before, its plain black and white face peeking over the stall door, “when did you get here?”

Of the horses that were kept inside, you’d ridden one and helped groom the others but the third you’d never seen before. It was beautiful and solid, tall and appeared healthy although seemed to be unsure of yourself.

“You’re so pretty,” you reached for the horse, keeping your hand flat and almost completed unexpecting to have have its nose pushed into your palm, “okay, you want attention. I get it.”

“Baby!” A voice from the other side of the stall hadn’t deterred you from stroking your hand down the horses’ cheek and neck, slowly familiarizing yourself with the gorgeous animal.

“Bucky-”

“Baby, that horse is-” He stepped toward you, just moving enough to draw the horses’ ire.

You were mildly stunned when the horses’ ears had been pinned to its head, turning from you toward Bucky. You stepped back, watching the horse snap its teeth as if it was trying to bite Bucky. It was clear the horse didn’t like him, although when its attention was back on you the horse was pleasant and charming.

“-a beast.”

“Beast? No.” You cooed at the horse, laughing under your breath when it nodded its head and neighed in response to your voice and petting. “You’re not a beast, you’re a beautiful baby. You’re a baby.”

“Its not a baby-“ Bucky took another step toward you, stirring more ire from the horse, and Bucky had stumbled back it kicked the door with force, ears pinned.

“You’re beautiful.” You addressed the horse with nothing but tenderness, smoothing your hand down its neck. “Bucky’s just mean.”

“Clearly he has a favourite.” Ari’s voice came from behind Bucky, the two of them watching you and the horse with no name, one of them was prideful and the other cautious.

“Good, she can have the beast.”

[nonasemporium]

on the direction of colorism as an intentional narrative device in tlt:

(sources pending, I will eventually annotate a copy of the texts and I may choose to grace the internet with specific quotes and a more purposeful examination, but I am not that kind nor prepared right now)

easy source right now, as previously mentioned:

cavaliers are often described as darker than necromancers. yes, one could make the point correlate instead to the draining of life, the representation of death in them, etc. but it's not only on the basis of 'this person is an ashen version of the other,' it will also be related to the base, or seem greater than it, even if they're related, even if they're both white.

examples now under a cut to save your dash some space:

take the twins, where it IS the same base: coronabeth, even, who is not a necromancer nor a cavalier (despite her best efforts) is not only referenced as a more lively tone than ianthe, but legitimately golden, olive-toned, tanned rather than not washed out. also even with hair color, we can see the twins have some shade of gold (coronabeth's actually gold, ianthe's implied to be a lot more washed out) and naberius has brown hair. (when white people are involved, which all three are stated to be imagined as) often-times hair color can have meaning correlating to this ironically.

colum is silas' nephew, and described with tans and yellows, tan-skinned, jaundiced, 'weatherbeaten', brown hair in contrast with all the whites and paleness of silas. again, both white, both relatives, and yet his cavalier is specifically noted to be darker in various manners--both hair and skin.

and personally I love pointing out white-on-white colorism because it's incredibly bizarre and shows the levels of which whiteness is built and maintained on is incredibly fragile and arbitrary.

now outside of that we have our nonwhite cousins, Palamedes and Camilla. Even within the text there's an acknowledgement and focus, despite also putting them both as piles of gray, in what's darker in Camilla and lighter in Palamedes.

"Crouching in front of the hatch was a rangy, underfed young man: he was wrapped in a grey cloak and the light glinted on the spectacles slipping down his nose. Standing next to him holding a big wedge of broken sculpture and the flashlight was a tall, equally grey-wrappered figure with a scabbard outlined at her hip. She had hair of an indeterminate darkness, cut blunt at her chin. Up close, he was gaunt and ordinary-looking, except for the eyes. His spectacles were set with lenses so thick they could make spaceflight grade, and through these his eyes were a perfectly lambent grey: unflecked, unmurked, even and clear. He had the eyes of a very beautiful person, and the head of someone with resting bitch face."

and in the separate description:

Palamedes: "medium brown hair cut short and with no particular thought for aesthetics, dresses just in greys, eyes particularly lovely clear grey."

Camilla: "has very dark cold-brown hair – chin-length, straight and with a fringe – dark eyes. She’s compact and has lots of lean muscle,"

also the specific statement of: "and I imagine her of being Middle Eastern extraction, though due to Sixth House parameters both will be fairly mixed. They’re actually second cousins, so there ought to be a faint resemblance."

I could get into this more but I will not, I'm going to move forward.

I'll come back around to second house, I promise, but I'm going to move forward with four house. I'm just going to take the quote from the post:

"Both Isaac and Jeannemary are around fourteen and have pretty much the same body shape still: Jeannemary is semi-muscular and has lots of corners, Isaac is skinnier. Both are natural brunettes, though Isaac has bleached hair (orange, fauxhawk) and Jeannemary is described as having curly hair. Both have multiple ear piercings and eyeliner and the visual is somewhat Glassons storecard punk. Both have dark brown eyes. Jeannemary has a somewhat dusty, fierce, monochromatic appearance (brown hair, brown skin), and I imagine her as Māori. Isaac I imagined as NZ Chinese."

I italicized Isaac, the necromancer, and bolded Jeannemary, the cavalier, very purposefully, with times their descriptions lined up both bolded and italicized.

I want to give a very short detour onto why I feel like pointing out/drawing attention to times and ways the bodytypes are brought up, because I feel like also it can be easily missed. Bodytypes/muscle/etc have certain ties into racialization, this also ties into class (obviously). I have a lot of personal trauma with this, with the equation of these things and history of them with athletic ability, how that has also been utilized, both as a tool to refer to certain groups as more capable of violence and of receiving violence (as well as labor), it gets complicated and I feel like these allusions to the class structure within TLT either purposefully or subconsciously brings these correlations up.

When reading about the use of a physically stronger, darker featured person that you will, at the end, literally consume to take into you aspects of their strength and to keep as a pool of resource for yourself after you have essentially 'spent' them in the process of your own uplifting, after the 10,000 years of John purposefully leading and shifting the society itself to favor and replicate certain structures based off especially the roman empire and catholicism, I wish I could more succinctly put into words why to me that so clearly correlates to both racism and colorism, but I am very limited in communication despite my best efforts so instead I'm putting this forward and hope those reading have the comprehension skills and knowledge to at least begin to consider the parallels.

Also, in regards to race and colorism, there are specific histories, especially in specific colonial powers, towards indigenous groups that should be taken into consideration when discussing how features may be engaged with.

okay! sorry for that foray now we're moving to the fifth house:

Magnus is a curly-haired, medium built Samoan man, Abigail is a white woman with long, glossy dark hair. She is beautifully and tastefully dressed, and he wears well-tailored and not very flashy outfits.

Because I'm self-indulgent, I do still like seeing black Abigail headcanons and art, which I suppose takes away from some of my points, but not really, because this will circle back to being about how white people interact with these narratives and descriptions within fandom and not about how sometimes people of color might indulge themselves with characters they relate to, that remind them of loved ones, or represent some other self-indulgence.

In seventh house, we have "Dulcinae" and Protesilaus.

Protesilaus: "massive, buff, and also sort of sickly and indistinct-looking in his colouring – he is described as being made up mainly of muddy, ashen browns. Think Greek warrior, but with no vibrant colouring. Biggest on cast, even bigger than Colum Ash. Imagined him as mixed Pasifika."

I have opinions on how men of color overall are discussed in the text and through word of god but I'm going to be very brave and move forward.

"Dulcinae": "a girlish woman who looks extremely fragile and sickly, like a neurasthenic Victorian maiden. Eyes should be extremely blue. Hair is light brown in long curls; skin is pale. Pretty in a frivolous, invalid way. Gives the impression of being slight. Outfits should be gauzy and nightgownish. Imagined her as Pakeha/white."

and now we'll come to the second house:

"The only ones who seemed even vaguely compos mentis were the Second House: as it turned out, they had been the ones to call Teacher to the access hatch, and now they sat ramrod-straight and resplendent in their Second-styled Cohort uniforms, all scarlet and white. They both affected the same tightly-braided hairstyle and the same amount of extremely gilt braid, and also the same serious-business expression, and they could be told apart by one having a rapier and one quite a lot of pips at her collar."

"Captain Judith Deuteros and Lieutenant Marta Dyas are alike in posture, bearing and extremely crisp military uniform (think a cross between US Navy whites and the Regency navy). Unlike every single other necromancer on the cast, Judith never wears necromancer robes, but is dressed in the exact same way as Marta. Judith is somewhat less completely scrawny than other necromancers on the cast, though she should be less built than Marta is; Judith is imposing, solemn-faced and reflective, Marta is more keen-eyed and restless. I imagined both as Tongan."

Here we have a cav/necro pair that is largely described similarly, with the exception being a more understandable difference in build, although while Judith is reflective and imposing, Marta is keen-eyed and restless. Both in the text and the added description give a lot of overlap. Gideon rarely makes an attempt to discern them in GtN.

but what about John/Alecto? what about Gideon/Pyrrha?

and we don't even know about the other lyctors!

okay. see, this is where we're going to get a little more complicated and part of where I'm making an argument it might be narratively intentioned.

John is Māori. He is a man of color, and he is coming from a society where he was racialized. Specifically, at least as a general consensus, his "faceclaim" in a sense is Taika Waititi.

Anyway, without getting into every facet of how I think the series engages with and addresses men of color, because that scope starts getting out of this specific topic and into a different one, I want to state that I think it actually further represents themes of colorism.

John makes himself God. He makes himself god and to him that becomes some strange performance of western civilization roman empire 2.0 space imperialism planet consumption speedrun mixed w New Catholocism or whatever, but where there's a PERFORMANCE of equality where there actually isn't. Just like I argue John not ONLY makes new classes with necromancers and cavaliers (I'm not even getting into everything else with this), but ALSO he did not in fact shatter gender oppression, he just shifted it and patted himself on the ass for it.

YES it is queernormative and as a queer man himself, it makes sense this would be important to him, just like it makes sense for it to be important to him that race manifest very differently (go pretty unacknowledged really) across his New Roman Empire in Space. But he has his own limits and biases and I would argue both colorism and misogyny are present for him.

He chose to make Alecto the way he did. And he had all of his own reasons for it, but surely it can also be noted how linked those reasons can be to both colorism and misogyny as well. I know he made her a specific barbie that had specific history to him, but does this barbie and his choice in her also highlight his priorities, just as blatantly as his choice of empire?

I need Alecto to come out so I can finalize some of these concepts, but it is still colorism for a man of color, especially one wounded by rejection (as we see in Nona) to see power in dominating a white woman. To see a SUBVERSION in the act of it. I think John sees a lot of things as subversion without seriously considering the levels he's actually engaging in. I think John is shallow.

Which brings me also to G1deon and Pyrrha. I think John had some concepts around their dynamics, their relationship, in their interactions that was in these same lines. I think John saw G1deon a specific way, I think he passively compared himself (including how he discusses it in Nona, again), I think the way he engaged with G1deon did now show solidarity or equality (G1deon was also an engineer!) but showed superiority on John's end. Also he made G1deon how he did before he crafted his 10,000 year old weird empire. If I could put it into words more eloquently, I would, but I feel like John saw triumph in G1deon being Pyrrha's necromancer and I also think he then delegated him to "attack dog" for himself (as we see in Harrow the Ninth especially!!!)

I genuinely think 100% that regardless of if G1deon is racialized as black (I think he is personally), he is meant to be darker and racialized more than John was. And I think John subconsciously compares that! I think it is instead further evidence towards narrative on colorism, including the way he's separate from Mercymorn and Augustine through HtN.

This is without getting into Pyrrha as a cop, but I feel like I've used a lot of words already.

I'll get into this more sometime in the future, perhaps even after Alecto when I am free to vomit out all the various concepts I have with a better understanding of where it's building (as an autist, w my specific type anyway, I do struggle with feeling secure in theorizing until I have rest of the content) but ANYWAY.

Long post, mostly about the appearance of Harrow and Gideon.

And before I get into it, I need to put at least two notes:

Trying to find the link for where she stated Erana James is a good fancast for Harrow, but I don't know if I can get a link for that which is frustrating. If anyone has a link or recording of that specific statement, I would appreciate it. **Edit: [thank you to my wife for the links, duckduckgo hates bad bitches who are impatient with poor search results]

But for reference, Erana James:

(winter shade?)

and then go ahead and give a little sunshine:

Personally, in my head I see Nona as out more, skin less covered, more likely to take in sunshine (?), but it is also weird space technicalities so maybe she has less sunlight than Harrow even if Harrow is covered head to toe constantly. Either way, I feel like this is the typical range, with acknowledgement of how skin, especially melanated skin, fluctuates depending on exposure to sun.

edit: adding a couple more for further reference

[smileysuh]

hazed

🌙 staring. Mingyu & Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. tensions have been high for a while, but an edible becomes the catalyst to a trio’d ascension to cloud 9, being a little hazy has never felt so good

cw/ tw. size kink, alcohol/weed consumption, man handling, dirty talk, switch!Mingyu, dom!Wonwoo, oral (f/m receiving), slight choking, face grinding, fingering, overstim, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k

🍭 aus. collage au, stoner au, best friends to lovers

☀️ mlist + an. weed is legal in Canada and that's all I'm gonna say about that 😂

Just as Mingyu’s starting to think ‘that edible was useless,’ the cookie he’d split with you and Wonwoo begins to take effect.

At first, it feels like warm hands running over his shoulders, prompting him to sink a little further into the couch. Then, the sufficiently stoned man notices the fuzzies dancing on the outskirts of his vision, and when he chases them - Netflix all but forgotten for a moment - the fuzzies become little light spirits that tip toe away, skittering and toying with him-

Smiling to himself, Mingyu turns to check on you and Wonwoo, eager to see if either of you are feeling it like he is-

You’re sitting between the two larger males, your head resting on Wonwoo’s shoulder while you discuss movie genres and scroll through Netflix.  

Mingyu loves sitting next to you. Loves the way his body dwarfs yours no matter what the situation- and he’s never more aware of it than when he’s high.

His eyes slide down your arms leisurely before landing on your thighs.

You’re in little sleeping shorts, and it’s times like these that he really appreciates them. 

Mingyu licks his lips, the haziness created by the weed is making him very narrow minded. He sees things he wants, and he wants them immediately- His eyes dart towards the kitchen - the munchies setting in - and he remembers the food available:

Oreos, birthday cake flavour because Wonwoo thought it would be funny.

Chips, Mingyu can’t remember if they’re out of Ruffles or not-

Beer. Yum.

Mingyu stands up abruptly, and it draws your attention, two sets of curious eyes moving to the lumbering giant.

“Beer,” Mingyu tells you, shuffling over to the kitchen with a one track mind and a body that teeters as it moves.

You and Wonwoo watch him for a few moments, simply assessing his state.

The weed is starting to hit you too, and ‘Wow,’ you think, as you drag your eyes up and down your friend’s form, ‘Mingyu is looking especially tall and thick today.’ 

He looks so good in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, shoulders broad and on display even whilst hidden under fabric.

Wonwoo notices the way you look at Mingyu, and he doesn’t mind.

Mingyu is gorgeous- and Wonwoo’s lived with his best friend long enough to know that most girls find the dude ‘irresistible’.

Mingyu is completely oblivious to his spectators as he leans down to look into the fridge, picking out a green bottle of lager.

He returns to the living room with more speed than his initial move to the fridge, and he turns to situate himself in the corner of the couch so he can look at you and Wonwoo; “Movies?” Mingyu asks.

You and Wonwoo give him a rundown on your choices, and as you watch Wonwoo speak, your eyes seem to focus in on his lips.

He’s so pretty, especially when he’s fresh from a shower like he is right now. He’s been allowing his hair to grow out lately, and there are little curly tufts here and there that make you want to reach out and tug on them- he looks like the perfect domestic arts major, despite the prestigious business degree he’s currently working on. 

You swallow thickly, realizing how thirsty you are.

Turning to look at Mingyu again, you gently take the beer bottle from him, smiling when he gives in immediately to the unspoken request. 

“You can finish it,” he says, as there’s only about a quarter of the bottle left- he must have been thirsty too.

You take your time while drinking, knowing that it would be really easy to spill this all over yourself-

Two pairs of eyes are on you.

Careful to finish up the bottle and get every last drop, you tilt it higher, tongue testing the rim for a second when you hit the glass to your teeth in your haze-

Both men are now pressed into their respective corners, with you in the center of the couch and the center of the attention.

Now finished your drink, you hand the bottle back to Mingyu, seeing the look on his face, and your skin flushes hot from the attention. 

“What?” you ask, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Mingyu watches the action and then his eyes lift to meet yours, expression suddenly very serious- 

“I’m hungry.”

It’s a very odd shift, but you’re so eager to get out of this newly claustrophobic situation, feeling very on the spot- “Do you want Oreos?” you ask while rising to your feet.

“Not Oreos,” Mingyu grabs you with two large hands that ensnare you by the waist to pull you back to the couch-

You’re shocked at first, landing against Mingyu’s broad chest, his warm body keeping you cradled nicely, and you blink while looking into his deep, pretty brown eyes. 

Then you think of his words, repeating them, “Not Oreos?”

Wonwoo chuckles from his corner of the couch, “Smooth.”

But his words barely register, because one of Mingyu’s hands is on your throat, thumb teasing under your jaw, holding you where he wants you while his lips press against yours.

The kiss is sloppy, and Mingyu is eager, teeth clashing against yours for a moment before he adjusts; your friend pulls you to be straddling his hips, and thats when he finds control.

You can sense the shift in the man under you when his hands prompt you to grind down on him, and even through the lip biting and little whines, your attention is drawn to the feeling of him between your legs- 

You pull away from the kiss, and Mingyu grins up at you from under lazy eye lids. 

“Wanna eat you,” he hums, lips attaching to your neck, tongue tasting the skin; teasing. 

You thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, turning your head to look at Wonwoo, who is frozen on his side of the couch. His eyes are alert and he winks at you, flashing a soft smile to match his friend’s that has you swallowing thickly.

“Enjoying the view?” you ask, words coming out more shaky and slurred than you intended; the weed has you seeing stars, and Mingyu’s lips on your neck aren't making thinking any easier. 

Wonwoo hums a sound of affirmation and you watch him get more comfortable in his seat, a deep sigh of contentment leaving his lips. It’s obvious he has nowhere to be and no plans to speed things up.

The business major seems happy with just watching… and you kind of love it.

You turn your attention down to Mingyu, who is still sucking on your collarbones with a fevered greediness. When you rut your hips against him, Mingyu groans, fingers digging into your hips before releasing again.

“Thought you wanted to eat,” you tease.

Mingyu adjusts you quickly for a stoner.

Somehow, he wraps you in one arm and manages to stand and throw you on the couch. He clammers down to his knees less than elegantly, but the way his eyes light up as he pushes your legs open and drags you to the side of the cushion makes up for it. 

“Off,” he says, eyes fixed on your core, which is hidden by the sleeping shorts he’s now toying with, tugging at the fabric. 

You lift your hips, and the shorts are torn from your body, leaving you in underwear and a hoodie. When you settle again, the first thing your friend does is push your legs open, swallowing thickly while taking in the panties sticking to your hot core.

“Mingyu-” you begin to close your legs, starting to feel embarrassed and a little unsure of yourself- 

Are you being hasty? Are you really about to fuck your best friend? Are you going to fuck both of them?

“I just-” Mingyu frowns and then brings both his hands up in front of his face, making something like a ripping gesture- 

“He needs help taking your panties off,” Wonwoo says with a laugh, he’s always been able to translate ‘Mingyu gestures’ into words.

You nearly melt; “Are you serious?”

“I don’t want to rip them, but they’re in my way,” Mingyu whines, pouting and pushing his face into your thigh. “Take them off.”

“Push them to the side,” Wonwoo suggests. “Unless you’re not that hungry.”

“I am,” Mingyu says immediately, glaring at Wonwoo. “Starving,” he draws out the word and nuzzles his face against your thigh, nipping at your skin.

“Prove it,” Wonwoo responds, “or maybe I’ll start to think I want it more.”

You groan at his words, hips shifting up, attention focused on the man between your legs “Mingyu- please-”

His big eyes look up at you, and he presses a sloppy kiss to your inner thigh, “do you like it when Wonwoo Hyung talks about wanting you too?” 

A sound of affirmation leaves your lips but you can’t find it within yourself to speak, too overwhelmed by Mingyu between your legs and his hair tickling your skin when he presses another kiss even closer to your heat- 

You take your hoodie off-

“Are we sure we should be doing this?” Wonwoo asks suddenly, and it makes both you and Mingyu look at him with confused expressions at the change of pace. “I mean,” Wonwoo shifts closer, looking you in the eyes, “we’ve both wanted you for a while, but I don’t want you doing this just because you’re high.” He cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing your cheekbone, “I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow-”

“Wonwoo, shut up,” you can’t help but laugh a little at his words, “of course I want you both-”

“You do?” Mingyu nips at your thigh again and Wonwoo releases your face to allow you to look down at the man still kneeling on the carpet.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “Come on- you guys have to know how hot you are- and you’re two of the nicest guys I’ve ever met-”

“So why haven’t you fucked us yet?” Mingyu groans needily, hooking his hands under your thighs so he can drag you to the edge of the sofa, eyes looking up into your own. 

“Why haven’t you fucked me yet?” you ask- only to let out a squeal of surprise when Mingyu buries his face into your panty covered core like - well - a mad man. 

“I’ve been trying-” Mingyu mumbles, words vibrating into your wet heat and making your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“We’ve both been trying to broach this with you for a while,” Wonwoo admits, fingers trailing over your collarbone thoughtfully, “but every time I flirt with you, you brush it off.”

“Because you tease me!” you say in shock, realizing, for the first time, that when Wonwoo had said things like ‘someone is looking cute today’ he hadn’t been making a jab at you? 

“I don’t tease,” Wonwoo insists, even as his digit traces the swell of your breast, “you just never believe me when I compliment you.”

Mingyu is getting tired of the talking, and he puts his mouth to better use, pulling your panties to the side before diving into your core with his tongue. 

You immediately grab at Mingyu’s pretty curls, a gasp of ecstasy escaping you at the feeling of pillowy lips now suctioning at your clit-

“And Mingyu’s been acting the part of boyfriend for months,” Wonwoo says, looking down at where his best friend is lapping at your core and making enjoyable grunting noises as if he’s a starved animal finally having food after a long winter- “the piggy back rides, giving you his jacket-”

“He’s just-” your voice catches as Mingyu pushes a finger into your core, “he’s just nice like that-”

“Baby,” long, cold fingers encircle your throat, and Wonwoo prompts you to look him in the eye when he says, “nobody is just nice like that.” 

It’s the most you can do to let out a small needy sound before you’re removing one hand from Mingyu’s hair to thread it through Wonwoo’s instead, pulling his lips to your own. 

You’re shocked by the differences in the way each man has pressed his lips to yours- Wonwoo kisses you like a man who knows what he wants, a man savouring the moment, even as you let out whimpers of need-

“You’re really worked up, huh?” Wonwoo chuckles against your lips, and you nod, tugging at his hair again in an effort to drag him back to you. 

It feels amazing to have both of their mouths on you at once- and Wonwoo’s kisses become rougher the more needy you get, his body responding to your growing insatiability-

“Wonwoo-” you whimper when you feel your orgasm building, Mingyu’s mouth working lewdly and noisily at your clit-

“You gonna cum for us?” he asks. The hand encircling your neck pushes you back slightly so he can asses your face, and then your friend’s fingers release you, skimming down your chest and stomach- 

Mingyu presses his tongue into your hole, allowing Wonwoo room to play with your clit, and two digits begin rubbing wet circles there-

One of your hands stays in Mingyu’s hair, keeping his face where you want it, and the other latches onto the front of Wonwoo’s shirt. 

“Come on baby,” Wonwoo breathes, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck while he continues to work you closer and closer to the edge- “Mingyu wants a taste, he’s been thinking about it for months.”

The thought that your best friends have been lusting for you for months is the last bit of praise you need to be pushed into pleasure, and a gasp tumbles from your lips, chest arching while you grind down on Mingyu’s face, eager to ride this out-

“Fuck-” you gasp as business major next to you continues his assault on your throbbing clit, “Wonwoo-” your best friend slurps at your cunt and your thighs shake by his ears- “Mingyu!” 

The man between your legs groans loudly, fingers digging into your skin to keep you anchored while you’re worked through a mind blowing orgasm.

And when you’re done, Mingyu removes his mouth from your core with a loud pop of suction, groaning before diving back in with his tongue momentarily- 

“You taste like candy,” he tells you before finally pulling away from your entrance and standing- he looks down at you with blown pupils, and for a brief time, nobody does anything, the three of you simply exist, breathing and taking in the moment.

“We should go to the bedroom,” Wonwoo suggests finally, fingers finding your collarbone again and dancing across your skin, “unless you want to watch a movie.”

You’re shocked at how Wonwoo always stays so controlled- even while high, he’s an eloquent protector, the person who’s always making sure everyone’s needs are accounted for-

“Bedroom,” you respond, and the next thing you know, Mingyu is picking you up from the couch to take you there himself.

Oddly enough, the two of you end up in Wonwoo’s room, and you’re tossed onto familiar sheets, with the familiar smell of Wonwoo puffing up to greet you, and the familiar vibe of a comfortable place you’ve been in a hundred times before.

Mingyu collapses next to you, laying on his side and propping his head up with a hand. 

“You know the way you drank the rest of my beer?” he asks, while tracing the lines Wonwoo had been so enraptured by earlier, pointer grazing over your collarbone lightly-

“Yeah?”

“Can you drink me like that?” 

You’re up an straddling his waist within seconds, pressing kisses to his face while saying, “of course I can!” quickly beginning your decent-

“Fuck- is this real?” Mingyu asks, lifting his hips so he can wiggle out of his sweatpants while you pull his hoodie up-

“I think so- unless I’m the one dreaming,” you respond, enjoying each new sliver of skin revealed on the body that’s been tantalizing you for months- Mingyu works out, and you trace the lines of effort across his abdomen.

“We can’t both be dreaming,” Mingyu decides, grabbing a pillow to prop under his head so he can watch you as finally reach the area he needs you most-

“Do you two want me to take a picture as proof?” 

Wonwoo’s teasing makes your heart flip in your chest, and you look over your shoulder at him while playing with the waistband of Mingyu’s briefs. “Are you going to join us?” you ask.

“If you’ll let me,” the business major responds, one knee on the foot of the bed before he joins you on the mattress, taking the spot right behind you. His hands graze over your ass, toying with the fabric of your panties, which Mingyu hadn’t bothered to take off earlier. “What do you want me to do to you, pretty girl?”

“You know what I want,” you groan in frustration, turning to look back at your own task at hand: getting Mingyu’s painfully hard cock out of it’s confines. 

“I wanna hear you say it,” Wonwoo’s hands massage at your ass, and you let out a pleasurable sigh at the feeling, resting your head down against Mingyu’s abdomen to take a breath and recollect yourself.

“I want you to fuck me,” you say, and Mingyu shivers beneath you, from your words, or the feeling of them on his sensitive skin, you’re not sure. 

“Yeah?” Wonwoo hooks his fingers in your panties and drags them down your legs. Cool air washes over your heated core, and now it’s your turn to shiver- “Want me to fuck you here?” two of Wonwoo’s digits dip into your entrance and you let out a mewling sound, squeezing Mingyu’s cock through his briefs-

“Fuck-” Mingyu pushes his hips up, not enjoying the way you’re both being toyed with-

“Please-” you groan, wiggling your ass in an effort to tantalize the man behind you while unwrapping your own present-

With one motion, you pull Mingyu’s briefs down, and his long member all but slaps up against his lower abdomen. Your friend gasps at the cold air on his hot skin, and you’re quick to wrap your hand around his length, swirling your tongue around the head of his obnoxiously large cock-

“Shit-” you’re a little worried about Mingyu and the swear words that tumble past his lips while your own wrap around his girth, and the hand that grabs at the back of your head is needy, a little rough too-

“Don’t break her,” Wonwoo warns behind you when you gag around a dick that’s much too big for your small mouth, “you always forget your own strength, especially when you’re high.”

A memory of Mingyu accidentally breaking in the bathroom door at a party while high flashes through your mind, and you groan around his cock, turned on by how large and strong the man below you is-

“She just feels so good-” Mingyu moans, throwing his head back into the duvet while forcing his hips down- “baby, you feel so good-”

Another happy sound leaves you at the pet name, and more swear words escape Mingyu’s pretty lips- 

Wonwoo’s fingers are removed from your pussy, and you take Mingyu out of your mouth to protest- just as Wonwoo guides himself into your wet core.

Without Mingyu stuffed in your mouth, your moan at the new intrusion rings loud and clear, and you rest your head down against Mingyu’s thigh, closing your eyes as you enjoy the feeling of Wonwoo slowly pushing into you.

“Oh my god-” you gasp, toes curling from pleasure while you continue to pump Mingyu’s cock. 

“Feels good?” Wonwoo asks, two cool hands settling on your hips, and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Feels so good-” you respond, kitten licking at Mingyu’s cock-

“Fuck-” Mingyu’s hips rut up, and you immediately rush to give him your attention again, placing him back in your mouth like your favourite lollypop, and suckling on him for all you’re worth-

“Holy shit-” he continues to cuss, and he thrashes a little under you, abdomen tensing when he sits up abruptly to tear his hoodie and shirt off, leaving him bare to the room. Mingyu’s skin is flushed a pretty shade of pink, and his large hands find the back of your head, prompting you to take him deeper into your throat again- 

“Gyu, if you’re going to cum, you have to ask permission to do it in her mouth,” Wonwoo clicks his tongue in a way that’s almost condescending- and you moan a little at his words, realizing - like he had - that Mingyu is achingly close to coming undone-

“God-” fingers tense in your hair, and Mingyu pulls you off his length, “can I cum in your mouth? Please?”

“Uh huh!” you respond with sounds of affirmation, too enraptured in the moment and in the feeling of being their needy little cock whore to even speak proper words- 

Instead, you wrap your mouth around Mingyu again, gripping the base of his length to pump what you can’t fit past your lips-

“Holy fuck-” Mingyu groans loudly, one hand grabbing at the sheets-

“Keep sucking baby,” fingers dig into your hips and Wonwoo’s words make your pussy throb around his cock, which continues to glide in and out of your wet heat, “I wanna see you giving him everything you have.”

There’s something about Wonwoo being the watcher, the one in control, that makes this whole drug fuelled sin scene feel much dirtier in the best of ways-

You can give up any thoughts or worries, can give in to the primal instinct that has you sucking on Mingyu like a life line while Wonwoo continues to rail you from the back- because Wonwoo has everything handled.

You’re not sure who cums first, you or Mingyu, but you pussy clamps onto Wonwoo with a vice grip at the same time your senses explode with a manly muskiness that courses down your throat. 

Fingers dig into your hips, and the sound of throaty moans and skin on skin carries you through the wonderful, lusty haze that comes with a stoned orgasm. 

You do your best to continue working Mingyu with your mouth until he’s gasping and whining, pulling you off his cock forcefully- 

Opening your eyes to look up at your friend, you get an amazing view of taught muscles and flushed skin-

Likewise, Mingyu is enthralled by the fucked out expression on your face, the saliva coated lips and the spit bridge connecting your mouth to the head of his cock, which is still aching with need-

Behind you, Wonwoo lets out a grunt, thrusts faltering, and it’s enough to clue Mingyu into the fact that his hyung has finished too. 

In the wake of pleasure, the three of you need a moment of recuperation, and in those quiet moments, where all that can be heard is heavy breathing, Mingyu feels most at peace. 

There’s no judgement, no complications, no worries about one position being more sexy than the other, or if someone has a few love handles- all that matters to Mingyu is the heat of his skin where you’re touching him, and the feeling of your breath as it stirs goosebumps to the surface of his thighs-

Mingyu swallows thickly, eyes trailing over your form while blood begins to rush down to his cock again- 

He’d gotten one thing checked off his bucket list: finding out what you taste like, and now, he’s eager to get another dream scenario completed: he wants to feel your velvety walls wrapped tight around his cock while he fucks you into Oblivion- 

And as he watches you and Wonwoo adjust, your own arm raising with pleasured goosebumps after the brush of Wonwoo’s fingers across your shoulder, Mingyu knows his night is just beginning…

✘ thanks for reading :) ✘ Please find the teaser for the accompanying patreon exclusive extension of this fic below :)  ✘  if you liked this fic, you might also enjoy ‘Hit’ with stoner!vernon

✘ [extension synopsis]: you wake up after a wonderful night with your two best friends- except one of them is feeling a little off, and you’re determined to show him you have space in your heart for more than just Mingyu

✘ [warnings]: oral (m receiving), dirty talk, pet names, exhibitionism, deep throating, mentions of somnophilia/threesomes, etc…

✘ [pairing]: Wonwoo x afab!reader ✘ [word count]: 1.5k - 250 words shown in teaser ✘ [genre]: 18+ smut

You’ve woken up in Wonwoo’s bed before, but never like this; never nude, and wrapped in a tight embrace, Mingyu’s small snores sounding in your ear with each sleepy breath he takes. 

Usually, when you pass out here after getting too drunk or high or just too tired to go home, you wake up to Wonwoo laying flat on his back on his designated side of the bed, but today, he’s not there. 

You frown at the loss of one of your friends, even as Mingyu adjusts behind you, nuzzling into the back of your neck-

You’ve spent the night here enough to know that Mingyu needs much more sleep than his elder roommate, and with the shock of waking up Wonwoo-less, there’s not a chance in the world that you’ll be drifting back to dreamland any time soon. 

The process of getting out of the bed without waking Mingyu is tedious, but you accomplish it after a few minutes of slow inching until you’re completely out of his grasp.

Once free, you find your clothes, which had been scattered around the night before, and you get dressed. Your eyes linger on Mingyu, who had now rolled onto his back, an annoyed expression on his sleeping face, hand grabbing at the sheets-

You feel a little bad that you’d left him, and he’s obviously missing you- even if it’s just his body reacting to the loss of your heat, but you’re determined to find Wonwoo. 

✘ To read the full 1.5k oneshot, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here

✘ if you enjoyed my work, and can’t become a Patron, but would still like to support me,  please consider sending me a tip for my work through here or here :) ✘ m.list 

© smileysuh — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any fic, reaction, or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

[hella1975]

hella can u give me a visual description of some of ur ocs for toab i need to draw them

anon is facing the classic dilemma of taob readers since the dawn of time (august 2020) and for once im gonna actually do something about it so i present unto you, artists of tumblr dot com, an exhaustive rundown of taob oc descriptions:

kanut: i feel like kanut is one whose appearance is pretty solidified now. he has white hair that falls down to the base of his back that he typically pulls back into a half-knot, with a short white beard. go grandpa go. he's described as generally having a 'rough' 'sea-faring' apperance bc he's one of those people that really doesnt give a fuck about appearance especially when it has nothing to do with his healing, so while he wears the typical water tribe clothing, he'll usually have his sleeves rolled up or stains on his tunic etc. he has blue eyes and isn't very muscled because he stays out of all combat due to being the healer, but he's one of the taller tribesmen. he has those scars on his hands that cover his palms and knuckles and quite sharp features.

chena: COLOSSAL freak of a man. like i wanted him to be comically large seeing as i was working with a kids show universe where shit like that happens, so zuko literally just stands past this man's ELBOW. fucking giganotosaurus rex. he's incredibly broad and muscled as well as just tall, very thick-necked and beefy face. like it's v important to me that chena's muscle isn't the streamlined, airbrushed kind; he's a total beefcake. he's COVERED in scars like he has a specific slit in his eyebrow that needs to be mentioned bc ZUKO GAVE IT HIM but aside that honestly go ham with the scars. his eyes are grey but more of a blueish grey, and he has dark brown hair that he does quite detailed braids in to pull back out of his face and fall down his back.

tomkin: he's v skinny/lanky and trying very hard to look bigger than he is. he wears his dark brown hair in a warrior's wolf tail and effectively looks like an older, less-burdened-by-The-Horrors version of sokka. he does tend to style the braid part of his wolftail to come out of his hair a little though instead of lying flat bc he thinks it makes him look taller (it doesn't). his eyes are a very light blue.

nanook: he has shoulder-length hair that's a light brown colour but ive realised some people mean 'nearly blonde' when they say light brown whereas i just meant 'not nearly black' like a lot of the other warriors. he wears a bead on one of the front strands and it usually falls so that it's sitting by his jaw. nanook is the tallest of the tom nook & ko trio and he's pretty toned but more in a 'has actually grown into himself' kind of way than a 'seasoned warrior' kind of way. he has a round face and generally looks very steady and calm. he has a birthmark on his hand (between his thumb and forefinger) that looks like a wave and he wears ivory bracelets on each wrist.

aput: IDC WHAT YOU DO WITH APUT BUT KNOW HE'S HOT. HE IS THE FIT ONE OF THE SWT. HE'S THEIR CASANOVA. MAKE HIM ATTRACTIVE OR DIE BY MY BLADE. he has black hair that falls to around shoulder length and he doesnt usually style it in any way, and he's the second burliest in the group. he's got a much more lean muscle than chena and it makes him quicker, so fighting-wise those two are almost evenly matched (chena just wins out though. pure aggression will get you everywhere). aput has a sharp jaw and deep blue eyes

tulok: he's the smallest of the adults and has brown hair that falls to the middle of his back. he usually just braided it back or wore it in a style very similar to korra's with the blue ribbons, but since shuhon prison he's been wearing it in an earth kingdom braid. he's easily the most put together of the group bc he has a real thing for keeping clean and tidy, so his clothes are always pristine and his personal grooming is always up to date.

tovah: she's incredibly tall and lithe with sleek, black hair that falls to her hips that she wears in a PERFECT ponytail like not a HAIR out of place. she's all sharp angles and narrowed green eyes and she tends to wear earth kingdom uniform. her skin is tanned and she doesn't visibly carry any weapons on her unless she's undercover in the army and they're military-issued.

some references from beautiful fanart i have the absolute pleasure of being gifted! i wish i could put every bit of art ever made for my ocs here but im going mainly off whose showed up first when going through the tag and also any that i think just Really Captured how i personally see the character in my mind:

this portrait of kanut by @pyro-bee

atla-style tovah by @lordrei

tom nook (+ zuko) by @gloomybirdie

tovah elle woods supremacy by @herebutnotpresent

another pyro-bee kanut by @pyro-bee

tovah character sheet by @herebutnotpresent (this one is SUPER helpful)

and tons more under the 'taob art' tag if it helps!

[downrightembarassing]

Little Liar

Aka Disguised as a man, you join the Ravagers. It’s all going well until the Captain finds out.

Dub-con/non-con, F/M, reader insert filth.

I wanted to write Yondu more like how he is in the first movie, definitely not a nice guy and willing to take pretty much whatever he wants. Consent isn’t a thing so be warned. Reader enjoys it eventually.

———————————————————————

It was going well. No one suspected a thing.

You’d been a rookie crew member on the Elector for two weeks now, slowly getting the hang of shipboard life. It wasn’t easy work, and the crew was hell of newbies, but you kept your head down and ignored the men for the most part. At first they teased, but that got old quick enough and you’re pretty much ignored unless someone’s shouting an order at you. Rookies were expected to be seen and not heard, you weren’t allowed to develop a personality until you got your flames. Two of the other new crew members you’d been hired with had spent extended stays in the brig for mouthing off and you had no wish to join them. Staying quiet and unnoticed suited you just fine, most of the men didn’t even know your name and couldn’t pick you out of a lineup.

These qualities were essential given the fact you’re a woman.

A woman so desperate to get off the trash heap plant she was dumped on she signed up with a Ravager crew. An all male crew. Who didn’t allow women onboard.

The ruse ended up being relatively easy. Bind your breasts, tuck your hair up, wear extra baggy maroon leathers, and embrace the thick layer of filth that covered the ship and the Ravagers themselves. Get your work done quickly and efficiently, don’t mess up, stay away when everyone’s drinking, and draw no attention to yourself. Survive a couple months like this and disappear the next time the ship puts into a promising looking city.

Slowly walking back to your bunk, basically a pile of rags in the darkest corner of the barracks, you groan. The original coating of dirt and grease had been easy, just enough smeared in the right places to sharpen up the feminine curves of your face. It had fooled the recruiter and gotten you through the interview with the first mate. Now you’re covered in it, the coating on your skin feels so thick it could crack and flake off in layers. You’ve never felt so disgusting.

Checking your wrist holo, you see it’s late. Cleaning gun barrels had taken a lot longer than expected and it’s well past the normal time you’d turn it. You grimace, the job had taken so long because one of your fellow rookies was back in the brig again. He’d vomited after a night of drinking and splashed some on the first mate’s boots. He was going to be in there a long time.

You grimace again. The first mate…and the Captain. Two men you’ve gone out of your way to avoid. First mate Kraglin Obfonteri is tall, lean, tattooed, and has the sharp eyes of a predator. His calculating gaze would see through your disguise, you’re sure of it. And the Captain…

Captain Yondu Udonta is the last man on the ship you want to take an interest in you. You’ve seen him striding through his ship, shouting orders, and once landing back in the hangar from a mission with blood splashed on his boots. He is ruthless, any sign of disrespect is punished harshly. The crew respect him, but it’s a respect completely based in fear. Strong, solidly built, and carries himself with an air of authority no one ignores. In your short time on this ship he hadn’t used his Yakka arrow, but the crew whispered stories around their drinks of its devastating abilities. His piercing red eyes miss nothing and you’re thankful he doesn’t have time for rookies.

Worrying about the Captain while wandering takes you past a communal shower block. You’re SO filthy….it’s really late…..you haven’t seen another soul…��.most of the crew prefers to stay disgusting anyway…..your steps slow. A quick, very quick, shower couldn’t hurt. There’s enough grime on your leathers to disguise your face again once you’re done. Decision made you check the hallway once more, and duck inside.

The showers, like the rest of the ship, are filthy. Peeking past mildewed curtains you choose a stall furthest from the door and marginally cleaner than most. For added safety you step inside, aiming the nozzle against the wall, and strip quickly. Hanging your leathers on the curtain rod, you place your boots outside. Socks and undergarments can be washed while I’m in here, you reason, so they get draped over the dials. Breathing a sigh of contentment you turn the water on hot and step under. Just a quick shower….no one will notice.

Eyes closed and head under the stream of water you don’t hear heavy boots stride into the bathroom. You don’t hear the gruff voice wonder who the hell is showering at this time of night.

You don’t hear the increasing statements of annoyance at how much water you’re wasting.

——-

You meant it to be a quick shower, you really did, but the hot water cascading over your body, the relief from the bands around your breasts, just the general feeling of being clean is pure bliss. Just one more minute you tell yourself, counting down from 60.

At 10 seconds to go the shower curtain rips open with such force half the rings break.

At 9 seconds to go a deep rough voice growls “that’s long e’nough.”

At 8 seconds to go a large blue hand wraps around your throat, pulling your body from under the warm water and into the cold room.

At 5 seconds to go you’re slammed back against the wall, dazed as your head cracks against the tile.

At exactly one second to go you open your eyes, staring straight into the furious red glare of the Captain.

“And who in the FUCK are you” he snarls.

Panic shoots through you, adrenaline coursing and clearing the haze from that solid crack into the tile. Name. NAME. Shit what name did I give them. You feel the blue fingers tighten around your throat.

“Cade” you croak out “Cade Fruze, Sir”

“Cade’s ah rookie on this ship girlie, I ain’t seen none of these on him” as Yondu smacks your left breast with his spare hand “try again.”

“I AM Cade” you gasp.

He leans forward, his face inches from yours as he twists his lips in a snarl. “I ain’t a patient man Sugar…”

“I….I….am” as you try to force air into your lungs “I needed a ride off planet.”

His massive hand tightens more. “So ya lied tah me?”

You nod as best you can around the bruising pressure on your throat. It can’t hurt to tell the truth, you think, I’m dead anyway.

“Don’t like bein’ lied ta” he rasps loosening his grip slightly, allowing you a lungful of air “don’t let liars on mah ship. So ya better have a damn good reason.”

Your words come out in a rush, coughing slightly around the brutal treatment to your throat. “Sir…I’m sorry….I needed to get off that planet and your crew was the only way out.” He still looks furious but you continue. “I signed up as a man, dressed up as a man, no other way.”

Yondu leans back but keeps you pinned against the tile with his strong arm. His eyes travel up and down your bared body, lingering on your chest before studying your face.

You avert your eyes and attempt to cover your nakedness with your hands and arms. You can almost feel the heat of his gaze sliding over you as you shiver.

He growls.

“None a that now, I’m tha Capt’n an tha Capt’n wants ta see.”

He releases your throat in favor of pinning both arms above your head with one large blue hand. You gasp in a lungful of air, certain there will be bruises in the morning. Your eyes are tightly closed, just waiting for him move. If the punishment for puking on the first mate’s boots is a week in the brig, you can’t imagine what lying to the Captain will be.

A warm calloused hand grabs your breast and begins kneading the supple tissue.

With a sharp intake of breath you snap your eyes open. Yondu is now closer, his large leather clad body appearing even more massive compared to your wet and trembling frame. His eyes narrow as a predatory grin spreads across his face.

“…s..sir?” you gasp out, knees weak and your trembling increases.

He ignores the question. His hand massages your breasts, one after the other. His other hand continues to hold your arms captive. Red eyes bore holes in your body as he continues his exploration. Pinching and tweaking your nipples he watches as they slowly pebble from the abuse. Running his hand lower he almost gently caresses your stomach, past your hip and grabs a firm handful of your ass.

Your mind is complete chaos. He’s going to fuck you. His hands feel good. You definitely don’t want this. It’s been so long since anyone’s touched you. He’s a Ravager, dangerous as hell. His hands feel SO good. Definitely don’t. Don’t want this?

Oblivious to the thoughts crashing through your panicked mind, Yondu pulls your hips closer with the hand gripping your ass. He brushes his groin against your own and a tiny moan escapes your lips. That felt good too. He is obviously hard and the touch sends a spark of heat to your sex.

At the sound you make he pulls back, a wicked smirk on his face. He reaches down and undoes his belt with one hand.

You watch with wide eyes as the leather slips free, metal buckle softly chiming. He releases your captive arms, turning your around so your face is pressed into the cold tile, and roughly pulls your arms behind your back.

You feel the leather, warm from the proximity to his body, wrap around your forearms. He cinches the belt tight.

You can feel the warmth radiating off his body as he leans in, hot breath washing across the back of your neck.

“Ya got two options girlie. One, I take ya down ta tha brig ‘cause that’s where lil’ liars like ya go. Two, ya let me have sum…” he runs his tongue across his jagged teeth “…fun and let this whole mess go away.”

You take a deep shuddering breath.

“Option 2.” You breathe out.

“Good choice darlin’” as he allows his hands to continue to roam your naked body “turn ‘round an walk to tha sink.”

Meekly you obey. Several steps later youre facing the sinks. It’s one of the typical communal ones, several bowls with flat countertops between. A large scratched mirror runs the entire expanse. He lines you up against one of the flat spaces and shoves you foreword until your stomach and chest are flat on the surface, cheek against the cold stone, hips digging in to the sharp corner.

“Spread ya legs.”

You comply, embarrassment coursing through you as you expose yourself to him.

He nudges your leg with his knee. “Wider.”

You spread as wide as you can, face flushing red.

“Wider!” He barks, knocking your legs into the desired position with his boots.

It’s uncomfortable. Your legs are spread so wide your tiptoes are the only things supporting you, your hips are pressed painfully into the harsh stone of the sink, and your arms are useless, bound behind your back.

“Better.” He growls, as you feel his hands begin to fondle your ass again. You close your eyes, bracing for when he forces himself into your body.

His hands move closer and closer to your center, dragging out the discomfort of your awkward position. He drags a knuckle up your slit, and you flinch. His hands freeze.

“Ya ain’t wet girlie.” You hear a pop.

Something wet, firm, and warm begins circling your clit. You inhale sharply.

One hand on your ass, Yondu begins to stroke your clit gently. You open your eyes and can see his reflection in the mirror remove his thumb, lick it, and return to his ministrations. His speed and pressure are perfect, slowly increasing.

Despite the situation you can feel your body responding to his touch. The warmth in your core spreads as you lean slightly into the sensations. He brushes a knuckle against your entrance and grunts in satisfaction when he feels wetness starting to form. Gathering the beginnings of your arousal on his thumb he slicks your clit and presses harder.

A whimper slips through your lips and your back arches slightly. The warm rough pad of his thumb feels divine on your sex.

Yondu is watching your reactions. As soon as your hips lift he removes his thumb and knuckles your slit again, spreading moisture along his index finger before slowly pushing it inside. You’re wet enough when he slides in to the third knuckle without resistance.

“Don’t cha move sugar.” He warns.

His thick finger begins to slowly, oh so slowly, pump in and out. He returns his thumb to your clit and applies light pressure. You can feel heat building in your core and your head spins with the realization this dangerous man is going to finger you to climax on a bathroom sink.

Yondu increases the speed on his index finger, feeling your walls start to shudder. Breathy little moans escape around your clenched teeth as you try and control your body’s reaction. Tremors run through your thighs and you scoot one leg closer to your center for more leverage.

Immediately the digit making you feel so good is removed, and cracks across your ass. You yelp, feeling searing heat from his hand.

“I told ya not ta move.”

“Sorry.” You pant.

Anther crack, more heat on your cheek.

“Sorry.” You swallow. “Sir.”

“Atta girl.” He rumbles behind you.

Two thick fingers slide slowly back into you. You’re wet enough where he needs no preparation for the second digit. He pumps faster this time, twisting his hand slightly. You’re breathing is rapid, whimpers and moans pouring from your lips. It doesn’t take nearly as long before your body begins to tingle and your moans take on a higher pitch. As before he returns his thumb to your clit and you begin to topple off the edge into oblivion.

Yondu removes his hand again. You shake, feeling the loss of sensation acutely, but you don’t move.

“That’s it sugar.”

You look at his reflection in the mirror. There’s a cocky smirk on his face as he spreads his fingers, watching the evidence of your arousal drip down his knuckles. He meets your eyes as he licks his finger.

——-

Unfortunately the Captain is a professional at torture. You’re an absolute mess.

Your pussy is THROBBING. There’s a slick coating your inner thighs and dripping down on to the sink to puddle under your stomach. Sweat pools everywhere else on your body. The position he forced your legs into has your muscles screaming and your ass is beet red. Each movement earns you another slap.

Yondu is behind you, watching your reactions closely. Three digits are buried knuckle deep in your soaked entrance. His other hand is curled around his thick cock, stroking himself in time with his thrusting fingers.

An animalistic moan was forced from your lungs when he had pulled his cock out, so lost in your arousal you couldn’t form words. He had simply smirked and began pleasuring himself while you whined.

Now you watch him as best you can from your angle, desperate for him to sink that large rigged member into your soaked pussy. You’d long since forgotten your fear of the man, the situation your in, and how dangerous he is. The continuous orgasm denial has driven every thought from your mind except the desire to be utterly and completely wrecked by him.

Your walls start to clench on his fingers as you feel your body attempting to reach climax again. Yondu pulls his fingers out, using your juices to slick his leaking cock.

“..p…please.” You gasp out.

“Please what sugar?”

“Sir….please”

“Tell me what ‘cha want. Ah don’t speak slut.”

His insult falls on deaf ears. He can call you anything he wants as long as it lets you finally climax.

“Fuck. Sir. Please…please fuck me.”

“An why should ah do that?”

“I can’t…I need it. I need to cum. PLEASE!”

The last word is torn from your throat in a desperate moan. You feel like you’re losing your mind after denial on denial.

“Well….since ya ask’d so nice….”

Yondu situates himself behind you, one hand grasping your sore ass and the other lining himself up with your dripping entrance. Slowly, torturously slowly, he pushes the head of his cock in.

He continues with one smooth stroke until he’s fully seated inside you. The feeling of fullness, the stretch, the achingly hard cock filling you up makes the edges of your vision flicker black. You would do anything, say anything in this moment to keep him there. You would sell your soul to him if he’d just rock his hips.

He doesn’t rock his hips.

Instead he fists a handful of your hair, arching your head back towards him as he leans towards your ear.

“Wanna know ah secret darlin’?” He smiles, gold caps on his jagged teeth flashing “I knew ya was a girl tha day ya walk’d on mah ship.”

Your body tenses beneath him. He lays more on his weight across your back, pulls out halfway, and slams back into you. Your cry echos through the room, such a small movement setting every single nerve alight.

“Figured I could use a personal cock-sleeve. Been waitin’ tah catch ya alone”

“Thank you…ah….thank you…fuck.” You moan out. Yondu’s words make you clench as the prospect of this happening again.

He pulls out and slams in again.

“Ya perfect.”

And again.

“So wet.”

And again.

“Fuckin’ ah so fuckin’ TIGHT.”

You’re drunk on the feeling of him moving inside you. Whimpers pour from your lips as he rocks himself in and out, pushing every thought from your head. Pressure mounts and mounts in your core as his movements speed up.

His hand leaves your ass in favor of gripping his leather belt still wrapped around your forearms. Tightening his hands he sets a punishing pace, positioning his cock in and out of your dripping sex.

The pain in your hips from the countertop, the ache in your legs from the awkward position, all of it fades away. The feeling of Yondu’s cock, the weight of him as he pounds himself in deeper and deeper into you are all that matter. Every stroke pushes you closer and closer to climax and the sounds tearing out of your throat are reaching higher and higher volumes.

“Say mah name when ya cum” He growls above you, pushing you into the hard surface beneath you. “This whole damn ship’s gonna know ya mine.”

Three hard pounds later and you’re cumming, oh god you’re cumming. Pleasure explodes through your core as your vision goes black for a moment. Your entire body convulses as white hot fire runs down and back up every nerve ending.

“Yondu fuck AH YONDU!” You scream while wet heat gushes down your thighs and pools under your stomach.

He slows his pace, almost stroking as he draws out your orgasm longer than you thought possible. Twitches rack you and you slump boneless onto the cold counter.

A sharp tug from the hand tangled in your hair brings you back to reality. Yondu is still moving inside you, watching his cock move in and out of your soaked pussy. His eyes snap up to meet yours.

“Git on yer knees girlie.”

You slide off the counter, knees hitting the hard tile. Cool air flows between your thighs, drying the sticky mess he created. Unconsciously you open your mouth, tongue sticking out, looking up at the Centarian above you. He is stroking himself fast, pumping his fist around his cock slick with your juices.

Grunting and cursing he cums, ropes of pale blue semen coating your face and chest. It’s warm, the bit that lands on your tongue has a tangy flavor.

You’re utterly and completely wrecked, fucked senseless by the man who’s cum is coating you. He reaches behind you and undoes the belt, tucking himself away as he admires the mess he made.

“Git yerself cleaned up, be at mah quarters in 20 minutes.” He snarls at you and walks out of the bathroom.

——-