#this was supposed to have a companion piece but

[pukefactory]

glisten my bby boy… can you do him x reader and you both are out 2 lunch? 🥺

Author’s Note

I took the liberty of setting this scene outside Gardenview’s walls to allow for more creative freedom and a better flow. A lunch date in the Gardenview cafeteria doesn’t exactly feel romantic, so instead, you’re both out on a coffee date! (Just ignore any continuity issues.)

-Rush

✧——⊹ ࣪ ˖ CAFÉ BREEZE ⊹ ࣪ ˖——✧

୭ Summary: You And Glisten Go On A Lunch Date To A Café

୭ Character(s): Glisten The Mirror (Dandy’s World)

୭ Reader pronouns: Not Specified

୭ Genre: Short Story, SFW

୭ Word Count: 400

୭ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

୭ Image Credits: @suk1nho on Pinterest

The sun shimmered over the cobblestone streets, bathing the quaint café patio in golden light. Glisten sat across from you, his golden frame gleaming under the midday glow, pink bow perfectly fluffed. He adjusted his reflection in a silver spoon, pursing his lips before grinning at you.

“Looking good!” he declared, turning the spoon from side to side. “But of course, I always do.”

You snorted into your drink. “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously charming, yes.” He gave a dramatic sigh, setting the spoon down. “But you already knew that.”

The café bustled with cheerful energy, the scent of fresh pastries drifting through the air. Your plate of sandwiches and Glisten’s neatly arranged platter of fruit tarts sat untouched for the moment. He was too busy reveling in his own presence, posing slightly so the light caught him just right.

“Are you going to eat, or just admire yourself all day?” you teased, popping a grape into your mouth.

He gasped, clutching his chest. “Me? Ignore the spotlight?” He picked up a tart, gesturing with it. “Oh, heavens, no! But I must maintain my image, darling.”

You rolled your eyes. “I think you’ll survive eating a pastry.”

Glisten pouted before dramatically nibbling the tart, his expression shifting to delight. “Oh! This is divine! Sweet, flaky—just like me!”

You laughed, shaking your head. Just as you were about to respond, a light breeze ruffled the tablecloth, and Glisten’s eyes widened.

“Oh no, oh no, oh no—” He scrambled to grab a napkin, dabbing at his face. “Is my blush smudged?! I simply cannot walk around looking anything less than perfect!”

You leaned over, inspecting him with exaggerated seriousness. “No smudges. Still flawless.”

He let out a dramatic sigh of relief. “Goodness, I make this whole thing look easy.” He then smiled at you, his usual confident glow dimming just slightly. “You always know just what to say, don’t you?”

You shrugged. “It’s a talent.”

Glisten chuckled, tapping his fingers against the table. “I suppose… having you here makes it even better.”

His words held something softer, more genuine, beneath the bravado. You smiled, warmth spreading through your chest.

“Well, lucky for you, I plan to stick around.”

Glisten beamed, his reflection catching the light just so. “Tada! The one and only Glisten… and their fabulous companion, here to dazzle this café!”

You clinked your glass against his. “Too dazzling, then.”

He laughed. “Too dazzling!”

Writing commissions are now open! I will create nearly any type of story, including OC x Canon or general imagine-style pieces. Please refer to the pricing details below.

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[aloonaram]

Got inspired to write for ORV so here’s a snippet of a fic im working on that kinda works on its own :)

Change is Not an Instance

(Spoilers for the Dark Castle arc ahead)

The first time the innocuous thought made its way into his mind, he was too busy using the last of his strength to shove his sword into Kim Dokja’s stomach to give it any time to process.

He’s beautiful.

It wasn’t an unusual line of thought. He’d always believed Kim Dokja to be attractive—long lashes, silken hair, slim waist—but there wasn’t anything more to it other than an appreciation of aesthetics. He’d found it strange when the other incarnations of Seoul had given him the title “Ugliest King,” but he figured it must’ve come down to preference or jealousy.

It was, however, the first time he meant it beyond just physical features.

Wings sprouted from Kim Dokja’s back, torn from the party members attempts to keep him grounded. Horns curved alongside his head, just as red as the blood dripping down his sword. Black veins crawled up his neck, framing his face and highlighting the strange red glow within his eyes. But what truly stood out—what forced that little innocuous thought to pierce his mind—was Kim Dokja’s smile. It was small and wrinkled from pain at the edges; blood coated his lips like a hellish gloss. But beyond it all, it was satisfied. As if his death were a job well done. It didn’t reach his eyes, clouded by pain and blood dripping from his lashes, but it did reach Yoo Joonghyuk. Its grip was as soft as the smile but as strong as its owners will to sacrifice anything and everything for the sake of the company.

A part of him—no, a majority of him—was furious with Kim Dokja. He’d had it all planned; was ready to regress knowing Kim Dokja could lead their companions to the end. But he should’ve known that fool would have something up his sleeve, he’d always been strangely adamant about keeping Yoo Joonghyuk alive in this turn. In doing so, he’d left his friends and his newfound incarnation behind with only the fragile promise that he’d somehow come back.

And yet, as an end more final than death pulled Kim Dokja apart at the seams, he looked to Yoo Joonghyuk and offered that satisfied smile.

“Let’s meet again, Yoo Joonghyuk.”

Despite its connotations, the statement felt final, a conclusion to the uniquely singular story that was Kim Dokja. In that, he’d felt a sense of understanding so deep and so piercing, he’d almost forgotten the rest of the company’s presence.

To regress meant to have hope even in the face of finality—and as a regressor, he’d come accustomed to this relationship between hope and hopelessness. They were the supposed angel and demon upon his shoulders as he awoke in his next turn, louder than even the noisiest of constellations.

He realized then, as Kim Dokja’s very being was stripped from arms, piece by piece—line by line—that Kim Dokja had wanted to stay, he wanted to come back. Despite being faced with the constellations’ wrath, Kim Dokja had hope in the face of hopelessness. And that was more beautiful than any physical feature he could imagine.

Kim Dokja told him once to stay; to continue this life despite his perceived failures because life had no value when death became constant and meaningless.

I want to tell him to stay. That if I must continue this turn to preserve the value of life then he must preserve the value of his life by staying.

[kesopan]

warmth in the cold

[courfee]

I'm back with the pretty boys facing each other

[bacchuschucklefuck]

it's hans trapp! from drawfee! hans trapp the straw crab!

[azaracyy]

love is hell

[dearcharliefnafcomic]

LITTLE PLASTICINE KINGER

He brings me such joy :)

He was supposed to be accompanied by a Pomni but I used all my white on him. That’s alright though, he deserves it <3

[artekai]

Look who's stealing whose evil master plan because he's never had a single idea of his own

[warrior-of-storms]

Current To-Do List (tangled threads edition)

Finish second draft of Investigation chapter 3 (then send it off to the beta(s))

Finish chapters 2 & 3 of if it would only get it through to you

Finish/edit Nobody's Son, Nobody's Daughter

Finish flip the record and start over

Plot/draft X-Men story

Plot/draft the WandaVision/Billy, Tommy, & America story

Visual timeline?

Patrol playlists

[blushouyo]

couldnt gale have been kind to me and told me he was about to explode when I had the patient and nice party of wyll and karlach??? did he really have to do it when im with lae zel and astarion??

[binch-i-might-be]

brainstorming a Foundations of Decay tattoo concept rn. I'm thinking,,,,, anatomical heart maybe. Insect. blood & flowers. any suggestions?

[amouress16]

Iterator and Slugcat OC concepts I’ve had sitting around for a little while ft my first ever pixel art attempts

[cartooncarcass]

[teojira]

[Click Click Boom] [Shadow x Reader short stories]

Summary: You're set to be Shadow's companion to keep an eye on him and keep him in line, a courtesy from the goverment for him saving the world with Sonic and the others.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Can be read as platonic or romantic! Shadow/reader romance is implied though! You're human in this, age is vague but you're meant to be in your 20s.

Disclaimer: Shadow is an adult, and as for the furry debate, he's literally an adult who can consent and is sentient, don't like? Don't read!

A/N: I've literally been obsessed with this fucker since I was a literal child and it's the first time I've written for him!! The trailer yas me going insane. This is written well before the movie has come out, literally all I got to work with is Shadow in the trailer and the bits and pieces of info I psychoanalized so I don't wanna hear shit about it not being accurate tbh, this is self indulgent!!

Shadow isn't the worst task you've been assigned, you both are more akin to awkward roommates more than anything.

I'm talking randomly lingering in the corners of the room, his bright red eyes glowing and they always seemed to be locked right onto you.

You screamed the first dozen times, but now you just glare at the black hedgehog and spit out a "fuck you." and go about your business.

He'll never admit that it brings him infinite amusement, it's hard to tell, but the huff he lets out is evidence enough.

Shadow will never admit he cares for you, he loses everyone he cares for, and humans don't live that long. It's terrifying to think about how much he's come to like you.

He's not nearly as slick as he thinks he is.

You're sitting down at the dinner table, typing away on your laptop, editing the mission report from the other day when Shadow makes his way towards you. Sending him a nod in his direction, you don't think of anything when he moves in close.

A huge slam takes you off guard though, jumping damn near out of your skin as you twist your head to look at him.

"What the fuck-"

"Take it."

It's one of Shadow's guns, his emblem being engraved along the stock.

"What? No, I have guns." You raise an eyebrow at the hog, his face is perfectly still, eyes locking onto yours as he waits for you to grab the heckler.

"Your guns are worthless, you need something better."

"Well excuse me, I so happen to like my guns." You try and joke back, but the offense is taken.

Shadow rolls his eyes so hard you're scared that he's gonna blind himself. Jutting his chin towards the table once more to get your focus back onto it.

"If you have one of mine, I know you're safe." He doesn't elaborate. Not that he needs to.

"...Thank you, Shad."

All you get is a grunt in response, and he's on his way back to his room.

Gingerly picking up the weapon, you take in how pristine it is, a thumb caressing your small initials that you missed on the other side of the stock.

With Shadow saving the world, the reeking of havoc makes it to where he's limited to what he is allowed to do in the public eye.

Not that he listens, he isn't supposed to be out after curfew. But to be fair, it is extremely hard to keep a teleporting hedgehog confined to a meager two-story house.

You can hear him teleport above you, he's on the roofs of the nearby building, leering down at you.

It was a small errand you were on, simply stocking up on the essentials for the house.

Namely, snacks for Shadow, he doesn't ask for a lot other than coffee beans and Doritos.

You are choosing to ignore the fact that he eats the coffee beans straight up, the crunch echoes through your head and it sends a shudder down your spine.

He was adamant against you leaving the house this late, standing in front of the front door.

"No."

"Fuck you mean no?"

"I said no."

"....I don't listen to men."

And you weaved around him to leave the house, ignoring his shout of disapproval.

That leads you both to here now, you pretending you don't see him trailing you from the rooftops as you walk your way back home from the small shopping center.

You feign surprise when he opens the house door for you, begrudgingly sticking a hand out to help you with your bags.

"Oh! Thank you my knight in shining armor~"

"Shut it."

He's never told you his birthday, which you can understand, living for 50 years and not having your family around must be hard. No matter how he may fake that it doesn't bother him.

That doesn't stop you, not in the slightest really. You damn near kick him out of the house for the day, shoving him over to Tom and Maddie's house so he can be with the others. Despite how much he protested.

"I don't want to go over there. Not with that blue fake."

"You don't really have a choice bub, I need you out of the house."

"I don't understand why I have to-"

"Keep arguing with me and I will make it a point to not buy you shit next grocery trip."

It's an empty threat, but he grunts nonetheless.

"...."

"That's what I thought."

When he finally gets home from his long and admittedly overstimulating day with the Wachowskis, he's ready to recharge in his room.

He teleports through the house door, sighing and rubbing at his temples as he moves to kick off his shoes, knowing that if he doesn't, you'd chastise him for not doing so.

Something about tracking dirt and rocket fuel into the carpet.

Whatever.

After trying to massage his brain through his fur, he opens his eyes up to see a colorful banner strung across the mantle.

'Happy birthday!' It screams, in its disgustingly neon color palette.

Shadow wracks his brain for any information of it being your birthday, he knows for a fact it isn't today. A friend you're throwing a party for? Well, that makes no sense, he knows very well you don't have many friends, especially any that you'd invite your house up for.

You're antisocial to a fault, not that he has absolutely any room to talk.

He hears you before he sees you, turning the corner into the living room, carrying some balloons in your hands. A stupid little party hat on your head.

"Shadow! What are you doing back so early?"

Kicking off the last shoe, he stands at his full height, staring into your eyes with a shrug.

"I wasn't aware I had a time."

"....fair enough, anyways, fuck, goddamnit. Stay here. Okay?"

And you're off, running into the kitchen, his ears flick at the slamming of the fridge door, followed by the cabinets being no doubt, hip nudging it shut way too forcefully.

He's awkwardly standing there still until you yell for him to come in.

Shadow has half a mind to ignore you and go into his room, but curiosity kills the cat, so he takes in a deep breath and makes his way to you.

He finds you sitting at the little kitchenette, a nervous smile spread across your lips as you gesture to the plate in front of you.

The smell is apparent, it's a coffee cupcake.

The hedgehog feels his ears flick again, staring down at the desert, then trailing his eyes back to meet your own. Wordlessly asking you what was going on.

"You've never told me your birthday, but it's been a year since you've been here, with me. After the whole trying to destroy the world shit. So since you won't tell me, we can kinda treat this as it?" You keep rambling, eyes flitting around the room, very clearly nervous as to his reaction.

Shadow doesn't say anything, or move even. Just staring down at the cupcake.

It looks amateurish, the frosting is lopsided, and the toppings on it look messy. But you made it for him. You even added a big black "1" candle in the center.

He doesn't know what to say, he can feel heat rush through his body, rushing to his ears and his face, and his fur feels constricting.

What the fuck.

What the actual fuck.

You go to open your mouth again, no doubt to apologize, but he beats you to it.

Moving to scoop up the treat, he gently sniffs it before taking a cautionary bite.

A beat passes between the two of you.

"...it's good."

Shadow does his best to ignore the smile that blooms across your face, not wanting to remember just how pretty he finds you like this.

Disgusting.

Shadow doesn't like touch, you know it, he knows it, and everyone knows it. He's threatened to break Sonic's wrist for even so much as patting the older hedgehog on the back. Baring his sharper fangs and hissing out to not touch him ever.

He avoids group hugs from Team Sonic, avoids Tom and Maddie like the plague, dodging every invitation to be a part of the family, it makes him sick to think about it.

With you, it's a little different.

You're not like them, you don't push him to change, you don't have a problem with how closed off he is, giving him space, never once pushing his very strict boundaries.

Something churns in his chest at the sound of you crying in your room, you probably think you're being incognito, holding a pillow to your face to drown out your sobs.

The internal debate is heavy, Shadow used to be able to comfort, to provide warmth, but he hasn't done so in years. Flashes of memories where he would comfort Maria on her bad health days, letting her run her fingers over his quills, to lend an ear to Gerald when he was frustrated about treatments not working.

It's not to say he is replacing you in their place, but it's scary. To open himself up like that again. He can feel his anxiety rising as he goes over the pros and cons of crossing this line. Eyes squeeze shut forcefully as he tells himself he doesn't care about you, that you're an adult, and you don't need to be babied.

His ears twitch when a pathetic little whimper drops from your lips, and his resolve cracks.

You don't look up when he makes his way in, too stuck in your bubble.

Startling a little when two, much stronger and larger hands grab at your own, peeling them away from the pillow. Your puffy bloodshot eyes looking at the hedgehog in front of you, his face set as it usually is, stoic. But his eyes are different, and his body language is different, when has he ever looked at you so softly? It's jarring.

Oh, he's moving closer. Okay. Weird.

"Shadow? Uh, I'm ok-"

You try and lie, it's a pitiful attempt. Your voice is scratchy and the tear tracks down your cheeks aren't helping your plight.

"No, you're not."

He shuts you down immediately, hands sliding up your arms to drag you into him.

The instant your bodies touch, you feel a fresh wave of tears well up in your eyes again.

Shadow has you resting against him, your head resting on him as he wraps himself loosely in your arms, giving you the space to move away if you so choose.

It's the first time he's allowed you to hug him, the first time he's ever initiated contact with someone in years. A fact that you both are well aware of.

A sob works its way up your throat, immediately tightening your grip on the hedgehog, curling into him as you shake.

Shadow doesn't say anything, doesn't make fun of you as snot pours from your nose, doesn't point out that your mascara and eyeliner are getting everywhere, just sits there and lets you cling onto him like he's your only lifeline.

He thinks that this is okay, he's strong enough for you both, and you don't need to worry when he's here.

[grugruel]

Blue Eyes

Paurings: young!silco x f!reader

MDNI/NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Silco has a crush, and after bumping into her in the mines, you're invited to the last drop.

At the end of the night, you find yourself hand in hand with Silco, leading him to your home.

Wordcount: 3.2

Warnings: pinv sex, mirror sex, fingering, body worship, petnames, creampie, tiny bit of cockwarming, praise, mutual pinging, overstimulation, edging? There might be more.

AN: I want him, It's not a joke anymore. It never was, just hand him over riot.

Thump. "Oph!-" her vision darkened, the helmet suddenly thrust over her eyes. Annoyance bubbled up inside her as she pushed the headgear back with a huff. But then, her vision filled with blue, and everything on her mind trickled out of her.

Frozen, they stared at one other. "Apologies," a striking man mumbled beneath his breath.

"You'll have to excuse him." A big hand gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze, the sudden touch pulling her back to reality. She looked up only to realise their awkward collision had a witness, a big burly man with a pickaxe slung over his shoulder. "Always in the clouds this one," he chuckled and shook the blue eyed man's shoulder.

She gave him a tight-lipped smile before her gaze fell back to his companion, face stinging.

It was her fault. She'd been reading the report and not paying attention to what was ahead of her, resulting in this poor, unsuspecting man as the object of collision.

He was taller than her, and a few pieces of hair hung loose from his tie-back, framing his dirtied face. Soot and dust covered his sharp features, but amidst it all were two beautiful pale blue eyes. A faint sense of recognition hung over. She she'd seen the men before.

She shook her head prematurely, lips straining to keep up with her thoughts. "No, no. It was my fault. I didn't look where I was going." Her cheeks were heating. She could only imagine the blush staining her face, inconveniencing her further.

Blue eyes exhaled a silent laugh, lips curving into a silly smirk. He seemed to be relieved the girl had not taken offense. "I should've been paying attention."

"It's fine," she mouthed to him and smiled, feeling her face heat further. Hastily, she turned her gaze toward the ground, insitent on avoiding any further embaressment.

"Have we met before?" The bigger man asked. "I recognize you."

"Well," she gestured toward the cramped tunnel that the three found themselves in, deep below the surface. "We seem to be colleagues."

"Aye, that we do," he chuckled, scratching the back of his head in thought. "But that's not-" he began, suddenly interrupted by a nudge from the blue-eyed man. The two exchanged a few looks between them in a rather clear attempt of secret communication.

She looked at them suspiciously. "No, I believe you're right, I've seen you boys somewhere, but not here. That I think I'd remember," she said, noting their polar opposite appearances.

The slim man scoffed playfully, shaking his head as if surprised by the sheer lapse in memory from the both of them. "You're Felicia's friend, aren't you? I've seen you around the Drop."

And so, it clicked. These were her bozos.

A lightbulb turned on above the big man's head as he called her name in sudden recollection. " . . . Of course, how could I forget," he said and gave the slim man a smirk.

The girl imagined the act was supposed to be concealed, but they weren't very subtle men. "That's right, Vander and-"

A slender hand reached out to her. "Silco," he introduced himself.

"Silco," she nodded and shook his hand. It was warm to the touch. Moreover, it was stronger than she expected. Impressions clearly mattered to him. "That's right," she chuckled, the out of place laughter catching the men off guard. "Or was it bozo?"

Vander's eyes widened. "Aye," he tried to repress a laugh, resulting in a hearty cough instead. Silco retracted his hand to rub at his neck, his own face tinging a pale hue of pink beneath all that grime. "She told you about that, eh?"

"Im sure I've only heard her call you by your actual names once or twice," she smiled coyly, gaze flicking back to blue eyes, only to be met by them head on.

Had he ever taken them off her?

There was a something about the smile he gave her then, something fond and safe. Had she not known him for less than five minutes, she'd describe his expression as loving.

Suddenly thoughtful, Vander rubbed his chin, a remnant of laughter still glimmering in his eyes. "That's more than I knew."

"Some things are just for the girls," the girl confirmed. "Although, It was only a matter of time before I figured you out." She subconsciously tapped her nails against the clipboard in her hands, reminding herself that she's still on active duty. "Well, boys. I have to get going." She gestured with the papers to make her point. "It was a pleasure to officially meet you, Vander-" dhe shook his hand. "Silco," she nodded, unable to keep a smile from her lips.

He returned the gesture and recalled her name aloud. " . . . , it was nice to see you."

"That it was," Vander agreed. Taking a step to the side, she allowed them space to move past her. "Hey," the bigger man stopped her. "If you're interested, we're having a small get-together tonight at the Drop if you'd like to stop by, I'm sure Felicia told you about it."

"She has, actually. Thank you," the girl began, eyes twinkling sincerely before her lips fell slanted in apology. "But im not sure I can make it."

"Ah well . . . Should your schedule clear," a well worn smile worked its way onto Vander's lips.

"You'd be very welcome to join us," Silco added and gave her extra space in the narrow tunnel, gesturing 'ladies first'.

It seemed Vander had almost expected the line from Silco, as if practiced or simply insync. "I'll see what I can do . . . See you around, Vander, Blue eyes," she nodded farewell to the duo and made her way past them, but not before she could catch a glimpse of the teasing grin cracking up the usual kindness in Vander's face.

She'd never been a brazen woman, but she felt safe to flirt with the Silco in front of his larger counterpart. They were a handsome pair, there was no question about it. But there was something about him.

And so, they went their separate ways. The men's shapes disappeared into the gloom of the tunnel, their laughs echoing along the uneven walls of the mine as Vander slung an arm around Silco's shoulders.

She smiled to herself. Brothers in arms.

-

Lather that night, the four found themselves as the last occupants in the Last Drop.

"I see why you like her."

Silco tapped the countertop impatiently and looked up at his counterpart. "Im not a good dancer."

As always, the bars lanterns emenated a warm, soft glow throughout the premises. Casting shadows and illuminating the inhabitants with a complimenting glow.

Vander shook his head and sighed, smiling a smile reserved for his little brother alone. "Take her by the hand, and the rest will come naturally."

The slender man rubbed his temples. "You're greatly overestimating my apptitude for dancing, brother."

Vander shrugged. "She's had an eye on you all night."

Just then, the Last Drop filled with music pleasantly vibrating through the open space. Bouncing on the walls and bleeding out into the streets.

"Aye, well . . . You can't back out now," Vander said and nodded toward the jukebox.

Turning around, blue eyes immediately fixed on the beautiful girl. Swaying to the music, the girl friends moved in rhythm with each other.

His gaze followed her every movement. The way her hair caressed her skin with each soft fling of her head, the way her hips and chest curved with every tune of the guitar. The way her face blushed so prettily.

Silcos body all but moved on its own.

-

Hand in hand, they walked along the Lanes, enjoying the mellow bussing of the city. The clacking of their heels and the occasional shared laughter were the only sounds accompanying them on their journey.

Most of it was spent in comfortable silence, heavy eyes wandering further than their feet. He could not take his eyes off her. Smitten would be the right word.

She released his hand to unlock the door. Yet, it found a way to her body. Without exchanging a single word, gentle fingers traced the skin bare to him, drawing patterns along her back and waist.

Once open, they barely got the door closed before crashing into one another. Silco smoothly slid his hand behind her head before pushing her up against a wall and their lips connected.

On collision, she moaned. Simply because of its unexpected nature and the joy she got from it, even more when he grinned against her.

The tips of his fingers slid beneath her shirt, but stopped, eyes connecting to hers. Heavy breathing filled the silent apartment as they spoke through their gazes.

It was not the colour of blue she noticed now, it was the shape of his eyes and the curve of emotion. She saw the blue in terms of calm and faultless reliability. She saw the lust and longing lining his eyelids, weighing them down as he looked upon her.

Patiently, he waited for her approval.

But most of all, she saw the deep dark of his pupils, expanding beyond possibility. In them was the adoration he had for her, the need for her that enlarged them so.

Silco whispered her name, and it fell from his lips like a prayer. His voice was breathless, close to a moan. All from being in her prescence, from feeling the softness of her skin. "Can I see you?" His fingers toyed with the hem of her shirt, sliding the fabric between his digits, restlessly tugging and releasing.

Nodding heavily, she gave him the go-ahead. "Please take it off," she murmured, and a small appreciative hum escaped him. Fisting the fabric, he stepped back and pulled it over her head. From the strain in his fingers, she realised he'd torn it in half if he'd had her permission.

He was close to a whimper at the sight of her, eyebrows knitting together in pain. "Beautiful," he breathed, in absolute awe of her topless body. Softly, he raised his hand. The tips of his fingers coming down on her collarbone, tracing its length. He slid them lower until their weight began making indents in the hills of her soft flesh.

She manouvered her hand behind his head and hooked a finger through his hair-tie. Pulling it loose, dark brown waves surrounded his face. "Prove it to me." She cupped his cheeks and slid her hands through his hair, catching it in the movement and combing it behind his ears. "Show me," she whispered, entangling strands between the tips of her fingers and lightly tugging, gaging his reaction.

And when the desired hiss left him, she pulled him in for a kiss.

Silcos' hands slid down her ribs, thumbs brushing the sides of her breasts in the motion. One weared off behind her back while the other found purchase beneath her thigh. He hoisted her into his embrace with one easy movement, lean arms flexing around her.

"Second floor to the right," she managed between kisses and wrapped her legs around his hips. Suddenly, she felt his bulge grinding against her core.

-

The road to her bedroom was a rough one. He carried her easily, his body strong from toiling in the mines. But struggling through the dark while kissing resulted in a few corners bumped and lean shoulders bruised. But nothing would deter them, curses and laughing handled the hurt.

Entering, he looked around the room. "Mirror," he asked. It wasn't much of a question, but it got the massage across.

"Left," she answered on instinct, driven purely by confusion. "What's-"

"I'll prove it." He set her down and turned her around. His breath caressed her shoulder, warming it up for a kiss while his hands slid down her arms, causing goosebumps to cascade along her skin.

They stopped on her hips, and Silco kneeled, thumbs hooking into her skirt. Their eyes locked through the mirror, and as her hand found his head to softly scratch his scalp, she nodded.

Silco pulled it down, kissing every inch of new skin exposed to him until she could step out of it and kick it to the side. All the while she watched him through the mirror, observing how that adoring man worshipped her, how tenderly he placed each kiss.

Retracing his steps, lips brushed up her side, ocassionaly pecking her calf, thigh, and hip. His hands were already too busy working on his own shirt and pants, resulting in a state of undress by the time his lips reached her shoulderblade.

Her hand shifted, reaching back to nest in the back of his neck.

When done, a lean chest pressed itself against her back and arms wrapped around her torso like hungry snakes, pulling her against him. They skimmed in different directions as he placed his chin on her shoulder, studying her every reaction to his touch.

One travelled upward, brushing fingertips in the valley between her breasts. Grinning, he watched her skin raise goosebumps and nipples harden. "You're perfect," he breathed, hand wrapping around her breast. Humming, she reclined her head against his shoulder, fingers tugging at the hair on his nape.

But silco wasn't done, kissing the throat now available to him. "Keep watching, dove. I want you to see yourself as I do." While massaging her breast, his other hand slid down her abdomen and between her legs. She gasped, head jerking to attention as fingers dipped into her core, wetting themselves before moving up to circle her clit. "Do you trust me?" He asked, breathing hot on her neck, teeth softly sinking into her muscle.

"Yes."

. . .

"Then kneel."

So she did, and so did he. Settling down in his lap, back to chest, she could feel his erection against the curve of her ass. His arm wrapped around her waist and hovered her above his member. "Ready?" He asked, placing a soft kiss on her ribs.

She grabbed his thigh with her free hand, keeping herself steady. "Please yes," she begged, squirming against him, trying to feel ehat little she could of his inches.

Keeping their eyes on each other, Silco lowered her onto his member. A gasp released in unisome, eyes twinkling as he breached her core and filled her perfectly. A pained humming emenated from him as her core put pressure around his inches. "Am I hurting you?" He hissed, squeezing her breast tenderly. Needing to move.

She shook her head, breathlessly thinking of an answer as she watched him through the mirror. There was a desperate, carnal look in his eyes. He was hungry for her. "It's great," she whimpered. "You're great." Her fingers scratched the back of his head soothingly as she tilted her head back to kiss his jaw. "Please, please don't stop, Silco."

His member twitched inside her, and in pure reflex, she squeezed around him. Because inspite of being so desperate to fuck her, to feel and move inside her. He made sure she felt good first. She would give that man everything he wanted and more.

Silco widened his legs and hoisted her up. And just as she was about to complain, whine that she didn't want to lose the connection between their bodies. He thrust into her, smooth and deep, taking advantage of his hold on her to meet the rut with his hips. "Fuck," she cried.

"That feel good, dove?" He breathed, nipping and pecking her shoulder in equal amount. He repeated the motion, setting a steady pace while never once taking his eyes off her rocking body.

"Yes, y-yes . . . "

"Beautiful girl," he groaned, hand brushing up her chest, gently feeling her soft throat beneath his coarse skin. Moving further, his thumb brushed across her lips, tracing the smile that twitched on her lips. The muscles of her face unable to decide between displaying happiness or lust. "Look at you." He cupped her cheek, fingers gently stroking her cheekbone as his lips found her neck.

In the mirror, their bodies were gleaming with sweat as they moved together. Rocking rythmically with each thrust, her breasts bobbing and muscles flexing. Her eyes were hodded with desire as she looked at him, at them.

He was right, she was pretty, pretty as he fucked her.

Meanwhile, Silco looked dishevelled and torn apart. At the point of breaking from the godly woman in his lap. Hair hung over his forehead, and sweat lined his temples. His hands were veiny and strong, feeling her beneath his palms. One arm moved higher, circling her chest so he could massage her breast.

Watching him do this, prioratise her that way . . . It was enough to make her come from that alone.

The wet sounds of thrusting and dull thumping filled her room. In each other's ears, their breathing was strained. Filled with pleasure and effort, pumping one another full of lust.

But she couldn't tear her mind from Silco's state. He looked like he'd been ready to come for quite some time. "Are you, mmh- close?"

Silco released a breathy chuckle as he scraped his teeth along the top of her shoulderblade, attempting to stay sane. "Since I entered you," he admitted, voice close to a whimper. "Too hard not to."

He's been overstimulating himself for her sake. Driving himself to a point of insanity, for her sake. She reclined her head, hand sliding to his face, tilting it to meet hers. "You're too good to me," she whispered and kissed him.

Silcos eyebrows knitted together and released an open mouthed whine against her lips. She could feel him twitch and pulse inside her. Her words hadn't made it easier for him. "It's ok, im right behind you." Her thumb brushed his temple, comforting him in his abyss. "It's ok," she whispered again.

A shudder tore through her seat, and he spilt inside her at the validation. Hot seed filled her up and trickled out of her, coating his own member.

No longer moving, he breathed heavily against her, catching his breath. Like this they stayed for a moment or two before their lips found eachother once again and a long slender hand slithered to her clit. She'd spoken the truth, she was not far behind him.

She felt him inside her, behind her and on her. All continuously working for her pleasure alone. In spite of getting his own and already being worn out, he soldiered on. His arm around her torso was more to keep himself upright now than it was to keep her. "Perfect," he slurred. "Dreamt of this since the first time I saw you, . . . ," he whispered her name, fingers quickening their pace.

She could've finished herself of, in truth, she wouldn't have minded after the resilience and performance he'd given her. But she wouldn't, because she could tell bringing her to climax ment a lot to him, and that was all she needed.

With a final moan, pleasure surged through her body and his name fell from her lips. Praising him, thanking him.

In spite of their tiredness, he hoisted her off his member and lifted her up. Body in his arms, she guided him to the bathroom and tenderly cleaned each other off, soft eyes and shy smiles exchanged between them.

-

"They set us up," she whispered, snuggly cradled in his arm after they'd gone to bed.

Silco chuckled, giving the back of her head a kiss. "Im glad they did."

"So am I."

-

[ohcorny]

How I Made the Colors in Hunger's Bite So Good

first of all: buy my book. buy it and look at the colors. (if you cannot buy the book, ask for it at your local library or i GUESS you can look at these spreads i posted)

we're gonna talk about colors, but more specifically we're going to talk about overlays. if you're an artist you are probably familiar with overlays. we love our overlays. we love to color a picture and then at the very last minute go 'hm. looks bad. i'm going to put a yellowish overlay on it to make it look less bad :)'

do not do this.

i mean you can, and it'll work sometimes, but all you're really doing is tricking your brain into thinking different is better. you've been staring at the image for potentially several hours. none of the choices you made at the beginning mean anything to you anymore. you're just finishing what you started. one of the big reasons you might look at your art and go 'man, this doesn't look that good' is because You drew it and are intimately familiar with it. you know all the flaws and mistakes because You made them and You know what your vision was. one of the great frustrations with art is that the piece in your head doesn't look like something you actually made. you want it to look like somebody else did it, so you can enjoy it as a viewer, not as the creator.

so when you put that overlay on, and suddenly the image looks very different, your brain will go 'this doesn't look like the thing i've been staring at for 2-3 hours! this is different! now it's good!'

and again, sometimes it Is good. but do you actually understand why it's good? or is it just different?

okay so what am i supposed to do smart guy

i'm glad you asked. the trick to making overlays work is to have them on from the start. this requires knowing what mood you want to convey in your scene from the very beginning. hopefully you know what mood you want to convey. you do, right? and i don't just mean happy or sad, i also mean safe, threatened, familiar, strange, soft and harsh. blue is not always sad. green is not always healthy. yellow/orange are not the only way to convey a companionable warmth.

okay did you pick the mood? do you have an idea of what color you want to use to represent that mood? great. i'm gonna use blue to convey the cool, clean white of a ship's maintenance corridor without making things literally white. and i'm going to stick in two characters whose color palettes consist of bright yellow, brown, and wine red. awesome. i definitely know how those colors would behave under blue lighting.

(here's the thing: no i don't.) this is where a gradient map correction layer comes in. i want my page to be Blue. alright. let's make a gradient map that's Blue.

a gradient map is basically just A Gradient with specific colors connected to specific values. you have your darkest values on the left, and your lighter values on the right. at 100% opacity, this gradient map layer will read the value of anything below it and go 'okay this bit is this dark, so it should be This shade of blue. and this bit is this light, so it should be This shade of blue'.

kind of like a hue or color layer except determined by a gradient rather than one color, so it could also go 'this is light, so it's green' and 'this is dark, so it's purple'. it's math. i don't really get it either. but anyway this is probably not what you want if you want your characters' palettes to be recognizable. emery's sweater is supposed to be a wine red! neeta's skin should be brown, and her shirt should be yellow. these are their Key Colors. generally, i want them to be recognizable. so let's lower that opacity down.

nice! you can definitely now see that emery's sweater is red and neeta's shirt is yellow. and everything is relatively balanced. nothing is too saturated, nothing is significantly brighter than anything else. it's all got a little bit of blue in it. but i've skipped the step of actually picking your colors. because here's the thing with gradient maps.

they hate you and want to fight. when working with gradient maps you must imagine there is a monkey sitting on your shoulder dumping paint in every time you pick a color. the monkey has a tube of blue and he is going to put that blue into everything you paint, but it's not normal paint. it doesn't mix, it overtakes. it won't turn something yellow into green, it will turn it blue. it wants everything to be blue. if you want something to look like the color it's supposed to be, you will have to make it extremely saturated under the layer to essentially fight the paint monkey's blue. hence, emery's sweater is a BRIGHT red, so it will look a little more purpley under the blue. and neeta's skin is very orange, so it can be dulled down into a soft brown.

this is the sort of thing you will have to learn by feel, because it will be different with every gradient map, especially if you start getting into weird ones that aren't monochromatic. you want to know one of my favorite maps to use?

i have memorized where on the value scale all of these colors appear. i can color something using only shades of gray when i have this filter on. i am evolved. if you want to use gradient maps effectively, you'll have to get a lot of practice.

anyway this post got really long and i'm about to go to a movie so i'll talk about how to use screen/multiply/overlay layers later. but gradient maps are the main tool i used to make hunger's bite's palettes so unified across scenes. but you can see way above how they work to turn insane saturated colors into the nice harmonies--and the trick is that i'll never see those saturated colors while i'm working. because i have accepted the paint pouring monkey into my heart, and i trust him. except when i'm coloring wick's coat. holy mother of god every gradient map hated that man's purple coat.