#trying out some new brushes and line shading

[atrwriting]

I cannot shake the thought of Logan (any era) just being infatuated with a bimbo reader! Wearing pink or light colors all the time. Short and cute little outfits that definitely get him riled up even when they don’t mean to. Basically just Logan fucking them dumb like the little bimbo they are🤭 (SORRY NOT SORRY)

anon ur onto something with this one hunni 🤌🤌

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pretty in pink:

everyone thought that logan would only like people like a school teacher or jean — but that wasn’t always the case, no. logan’s real type? the type of girl that pushed every bad thought, memory, or nightmare from his brain? the type of girl that forced logan to remember that there were some good parts of lie? the type of girl that reminded him what it was like to be a fucking man?

a fucking angel of a woman.

oh, god — you were something. you were it for him. you had the type of innocent, doe-eyed expression that caused him to choke for a second — get the hiccups for the first time in decades. you looked soft — so soft, almost too soft for him.

he’d come to your bakery every now and then — not wanting to draw too much attention. you only wore light and bright colors, the kind that he never reached for when he had a choice. you were like bubble gum to him — sweet and light, ready for him and only him.

he didn’t want to be weird, no — he couldn’t. what if he lost you? his never ending days were growing longer, and longer and he needed something to hold onto — even if it was just a cup of black coffee and a muffin two (and if he was greedy) or three times a week.

“can’t i interest you in something else, sir?” you giggled, pausing while you rung his order. “you’re the consistent type, don’t want to fix somethin’ that ain’ broke — but i bet i could find you something you like.”

he let his lips give the faintest smile, but inside he was fucking screaming. the slight southern twang in your voice was enough for him to want to fork over his entire wallet to you. you had your pretty pastel scarves wrapped around his ankles and wrists and, ugh — would he give anything to bite into like the peach you were.

“i trust you, darlin — whatever you think i’ll like,” he rasped, trying to keep his cool.

when he saw your eyes sparkle, and a natural blush mix with the kind you brushed on — he knew he had you. even if it wasn’t as needy as the thing inside him — oh, he knew he had you.

he started coming around more and more after that — sometimes at night, right before close. hoping for the chance to take you out after. he noticed everything about you after the day he called you “darlin’” — the way your eyes raked up and down him when you first noticed him, the way your hips would sway a little bit extra in those tiny flowy skirts, and the new shade of light pink that was always on those perfect, supple lips.

oh, fuck — he was down bad for you. so bad.

it wouldn’t be for another month or two when the soft skin of your palm slipped between his fingers and pulled him into your office, under the guise of wanting to “show him around.” he could’ve tutted at the pick up line — but he didn’t care. how could he when you plopped yourself on top of your desk, and spread your knees ever so slightly?

you couldn’t help but stare as you watched the big, bad logan walk toward you with his hands in his pockets. there was a hunger in his eyes, one for more than just sweet treats. you giggled at the sight and folded your bottom lip into your mouth — tasting the subtle hint of strawberry that you hoped logan liked.

“been feeding me the best for months now, doll — you’re gonna let me thank you?”

his hands ran up and down the soft skin of your thighs, wanting oh so badly to travel underneath the thin and short skirt. you could feel the want from him, the need — because you knew it was the same as yours.

there was no time wasted when you slipped off those pretty pink panties and sling-shotted them at him. his eyes darkened when he caught them, stuffing them into his back pocket. he captured your lips in a kiss that made you arch your back into him — clinging to him for support. he couldn’t help but grab onto your perfect hips and roll them against his as the juices from your pussy leaked onto the rough denim of his jeans. you whined into his ear at the feeling, keening into his touch.

“that’s it, doll,” he spoke, thrusting two fingers past your folds. “i’ll take care of ya.”

he pushed your foreheads together, and your eyes drifted closed as your mouth hung open. he watched with an intense gaze at how those petal pink lips fell open for him — just for him. he kissed you hard, drinking in every whimper that was just for him.

he would’ve thrown your body down onto the desk and fucked you well into the night — but you wouldn’t let him, no. you were his good girl, and you wanted to please him oh so bad. you made him sit you both down on your desk chair, you bouncing on top of of his iron thighs. he made you take everything off then — your bra, panties, the world — except for those pretty pink socks and head band. your curls bounced on your shoulders, curling around the peaks of your nipples — and logan pawed at them hungrily.

your mind was frosting at this point — soft, creamy, ready to mold however he wanted you. you felt his hands roam up and down the soft skin of your abdomen, stopping to pinch at your breasts as they bounced for him, and just for him.

“that’s it, doll,” he grunted. “show me you can make a mess for me, yeah? be my good girl — that’s right —“

oh, you were — you so were. the smell and taste of him drove you mad — wanting nothing more than to have him stuff you full of his cum and have you both watch it leak out.

“please, lo —“ you whined, your back arching more as you caught the sweetest angle. “‘m so close for you —“

“fuck, that’s my girl —“ he wrapped his arms around you then, thrusting up inside your pussy. “too much for you, baby, huh? couldn’t take it?”

it sent you over the edge — causing you to fall forward and catch yourself with your hands on his shoulders. you rolled down onto his cock as the walls of your pussy tightened, tightened, and tightened. little gasps left your lips, but logan only heard them as cries — cries for him.

“yeah —“ his voice was gruff now, long and drawn out. primal even, only wanting to encourage you to let go. his hands were pulling at the flesh of your ass now, slapping at the sensitive girl. “keep cumming for me, doll. show me you can make a mess.”

“fucking god, lo —“ there were tears at your eyes now, mixing with the black of your mascara.

the sight before logan? his pretty in pink doll that liked to cook for him, crying for him because she felt so good? nothing better in the world. absolutely nothing. his balls tightened at the sight, forcing his hips up into your pussy. his lips wrapped around the tip of your nipple — sucking on it greedily as you rode out your orgasm, shivering against him. he came with another thrust, holding you down onto his cock.

“there’s my pretty girl,” he whispered, voice cracking as a bliss formed in his eyes. “so, so good for me.”

———

eeee sorry if it sucks love u <3333 -L

[decay-1]

GIGGLES i fear i've fallen under the james sunderland curse how did this happen... sighs wistfully. you ever see a guy and just want to pet and brush back some of his hair out of his eyes? i think he might just melt if his s/o did that without much warning. the casual physical affection... <3

Hi its like 3am but time is a construct so here u go babe

Words: 867

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James’ lips moved as he spoke—probably about work, or maybe something to do with your shared house—but you wouldn’t know. You’d been too focused on admiring his handsome features, the ones you’d never get tired of, to really hear a word he was saying. His words were coming in one ear and going straight out the other, drowned out by the quiet joy of just… looking at him.

You’d always found it amusing how much he talked with his hands. Each gesture made a smile tug at your lips, just one more thing about him you adored. How he hadn’t noticed you weren’t paying attention by now was a mystery, but you weren’t complaining. It just gave you more time to daydream about him, something you still loved doing even after all these years together. Every day with him brought a new spark of excitement, no matter how long you’d been by his side.

Your gaze drifted over his nose, and you found yourself remembering how you’d trace its outline at night, lulling him to sleep with gentle fingers. Then, your eyes dropped to his lips—soft, but just a bit flaky from the cold. They had a taste you were sure you’d never find in anyone else. You let your gaze trace the line of his jaw, the one you’d grab out of nowhere sometimes just to pull him in for a short, sweet kiss, leaving him flustered and stammering as he was caught off guard every time.

But then, your attention fell on his eyes.

Oh, his eyes. You’d never get over them.

That pale shade of blue could send your heart racing with a single look, a blue so deep it reminded you of the ocean, the ones you fell in love with all those years ago. Every time his eyes locked with yours, it brought you back to the day you met, and to the moment you knew you were in love. You could feel electricity shoot through your veins, your heart beating faster, skipping like it might just burst from all the affection.

Without realizing it, you grinned with a love-sick expression, your eyes half-lidded as you rested your chin on your hand. You nodded absently at whatever James was saying, even though you hadn’t heard a word in the last few minutes.

Then, your gaze wandered to the blond streaks in his hair, soft strands that always seemed to fall into his face and cover those beautiful eyes you adored so much. It was then that James finally seemed to realize you weren’t paying attention. He raised an eyebrow and pressed his lips together, giving you a look of mock-disappointment. His mouth moved again, probably calling you out for zoning out.

But you still didn’t hear him.

Instead, you frowned a little and tilted your head, watching as more of those golden strands fell into his face. Without thinking, you reached up toward him. James followed the movement of your hand with his eyes, looking a little confused but not objecting. He never did.

Gently, you brushed the soft strands out of his eyes, smiling to yourself. But even as you did, you didn’t move your hand right away. You just stayed there for a moment, gazing into his eyes now that nothing was in the way, taking in his face with a small, contented smile.

“There,” you breathed, barely above a whisper. Your nose almost touched his as your hand dropped back to your lap.

James’ eyes widened slightly, his lips parting as the blush started to creep up his neck. He blinked a few times, trying to process what just happened. The warmth of your touch lingered on his forehead, sending little shocks of electricity through him, and before he knew it, his entire face was burning. It was such a simple gesture, but from you? It was enough to completely short-circuit his brain.

He stared at you, his heart pounding in his chest, his mind scrambling to come up with something to say. “W-What… what was that for?” he stammered after a few failed attempts, his voice a little shaky.

But you didn’t answer, still lost in the warmth of the moment.

Flustered, he rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, but all it did was make more hair fall into his face. You burst into laughter, your protest coming out between giggles, “Hey!”

He snorted at your reaction, shaking his head with a soft chuckle of his own. He couldn’t help it—he loved that laugh of yours. He looked back at you, and for a moment, you both just stared at each other, grinning like fools, your eyes filled with the kind of love that never really fades. The kind that only grows stronger.

Sure, James would probably ruin the moment by saying something awkwardly cheesy in the next few seconds—that was just part of who he was—but that was another thing you loved about him. For now, you were happy to sit in the quiet comfort of his presence, letting the warmth of the moment wash over you both.

[navybrat817]

Teacher's Pet

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You role-play a bit with Bucky before a costume party. Word Count: Over 2.6k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal sex, dirty talk, role-play, inner monologue, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Fic #6 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Not exactly a costume party with this Stud and Smartie poll winner, but close? @mumbles411, I think you'll appreciate it.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Tonight was Tony's Halloween party and it was the perfect excuse to bring one of Bucky's fantasies to life. Months back, he told you about a particular role-play he wanted to try. You, shockingly, didn’t jump him then and there when you asked him to repeat himself, which he did. Right against the shell of your ear.

"I wanna fuck you while you wear a schoolgirl outfit."

Whatever you want, Stud.

You had to admit to yourself, that particular fantasy sounded like fun. You hadn’t thought about fucking any of your teachers before. Had Bucky actually been one of your professors, however, you would’ve been more than willing to cross a line. Who wouldn’t risk it all for him?

You inspected yourself in your mirror with a soft groan as you twirled. You reassured yourself after a moment that you looked good and Bucky would love your costume, if that's what you'd call it. The soft blue cardigan matched one of the shades in the short plaid skirt, which barely covered your ass. The white button-up exposed your midriff, along with the top of your bra, and the knee-high socks provided the finishing touch.

I look sultry, right? No, innocent. Both? Sulocent? Innotry?

With a deep breath, you pushed your door open and left your room to find him.

Oh, fuck.

You weren't sure if you said the words in your head or out loud as you spotted him standing beside the bookshelf in the living room. Everything went quiet in your mind as his gorgeous eyes met yours, but your heart almost raced out of your chest. Instead of his normal work or casual clothes, he had a tight sweater vest over a nice shirt and tie. The outfit made your massive boyfriend look even larger than normal somehow. He even wore a pair of fake glasses to complete his look.

“Well, look at you,” he said, the corner of his lip tugging in a smile as you bit your lip.

Yeah, look at me.

Something predatory in Bucky’s gaze surfaced as he dragged his eyes down the length of your body. You worried initially that the costume was cliche when there were so many others to choose from, but you felt sexy from the way he looked you over. You could’ve worn a hideous costume and he would’ve managed to find a way to compliment you. Tearing your gaze away to glance at the clock, you realized you had time to have some fun together before you had to leave for the party. At least, you hoped he wanted to fool around.

“Professor Barnes,” you breathed, hoping the next words out of your mouth wouldn’t sound ridiculous as you smoothed out your skirt. “Do you have a few minutes to discuss my paper? I want to make sure it’s perfect before I turn it in.”

You weren’t sure if he wanted to experience a bit of role-play before the party, but you wanted to give it to him if he did. The two of you did your best to please one another and it would be something for him to remember for days to come. You would, too.

And I can play it off if he decides he’s not into it, right?

He pushed himself away from the bookshelf to walk toward you, taking slow and deliberate steps as your breath hitched. “Do you normally violate the dress code when you want to discuss a paper? Not what I expect from my top student,” he said, making you swallow as he brushed a finger along one of the buttons on your top. “Or were you just trying to get my attention?”

“I’m going to a party,” you answered, smiling to yourself when he raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure I’ll catch someone’s eye.”

Bucky jaw clenched he stepped closer, forcing you to take a step back with wide eyes. “Is that right? Who said you’ll have time to go to this party?” he asked, backing you up until you were in your bedroom again. “If you really want your paper to be perfect, we’ll have to go through it line by line. That could take quite a bit of time.”

You tried to keep your breathing even as your eyes stayed on him, praying you appeared seductive as you walked backwards until your hips met your desk. “A bit of time? That could take all night, Professor,” you protested, lost in his gaze as he pushed a thigh between your legs.

“I’m counting on it,” he said, his voice quiet and deep as he braced a hand on each side of you. How was it possible for you to come undone when he hadn’t actually touched you? “You still want to be my top student, don’t you?”

“Yes, I do,” you answered as he leaned in, his breath fanning along your lips.

“Good girl,” he whispered, not kissing you just yet as you whimpered. Praise from Bucky always spread warmth through your core. “You do want to be my good girl, right?”

A shiver rolled down your spine when he brought his hands up to cup your face. It didn’t matter how he dressed or acted or what games you played. You knew in your heart this was your Bucky, your roommate, your everything. You were his as much as he was yours. So if he wanted you to be his good girl, you’d give him that.

“Yes, Professor,” you whispered.

His mouth hovered over yours before he kissed you, your mouth moving in perfect time with his. The scent of his cologne filled your nostrils when you inhaled, the touch and smell of him a sensual assault on your senses. The kiss was deep and thorough, a promise of what was to come. It made your head spin when his tongue brushed against yours, your hands flying up to his shoulders because you feared you’d collapse otherwise.

We really might not make it to the party.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his voice rough as he backed up enough for you to face your desk. Your body felt hot and needy, desperate as you fell into that familiar pit of need you often found yourself in with him. “And bend over.”

Blood warmed your cheeks as you bent over as instructed, your ass on display. Well, almost. You wore a pair of snug underwear that covered as much of you as possible. No doubt he saw the wet spot that formed and you didn’t have it in yourself to feel embarrassed with how turned on you were.

“I don’t even have to look at your pussy to know how pretty it is,” he said, flipping your skirt up a bit more. “Bet it’ll look even prettier when it’s taking my cock.”

Please, please, please.

“I thought we were going to discuss my paper,” you said, peering over your shoulder.

“We’ll get to that, but I think we should take care of each other first,” he said, making you clench around nothing as he touched your covered slit. “Or was it your goal to make me hard in my pants and go along your way?”

“No, Professor. I wouldn’t tease you,” you promised, your teeth digging into your bottom lip as he slid your underwear down to your ankles.

“Of course not because you’re my good girl,” he said, your thighs trembling as he pushed them further apart. “My brilliant, sexy, good girl.”

Your head nearly collapsed against the desk, your eyes squeezing shut. Why did his praise make you feel hot and want to cry at the same time? “I…”

Bucky’s hands froze on your thighs when you sniffled, immediately leaning over you and touching your cheek. “Are you okay? Check in, Smartie. Please,” he said softly.

As if you needed more reasons to love Bucky, the fact that he stopped to make sure you were okay meant the world. “Green, Stud. Very much green. I'm okay. I’m sorry,” you replied after taking a breath, your heart nearly beating out of control. “ The praise just hit me all the sudden. And I just love you so much.”

And here you were trying to do something sexy and fun for him and you ruined the moments with your emotions. The erection in his pants probably faded as soon as you sniffled. Maybe the two of you could leave for the party and try again later.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple where you felt him smile. “First, you don’t need to apologize for getting emotional. Second, I love you, too. So much. And third, we'll only keep going if you want to.”

Your eyes shut, the urge to cry both surfacing again and subsiding at his words. “I didn’t ruin the moment, did I?” you asked in a tiny voice.

“You’d never ruin the moment,” he replied, his lips touching your temple once more as you sighed. “Trust me.”

It was comforting that you could talk to Bucky about what was going on in your head or heart, whether you elaborated or kept it short. Which was why you felt confident again when you opened your eyes and glanced back at him, seeing only love, desire, and something soft in his stare. “In that case, I want you to fuck me bare, Professor.”

Bucky groaned, his soft hair tickling your neck, before he leaned up. He kept a hand on your back like he knew you needed his touch, his other hand quickly working to open his pants. “You think I’ll go easy on you just because you’re at the top of my class?” he asked, easily slipping back into his role. “You think you’ve earned my cock?”

“I can take whatever you give me. And I’ve earned it. I’m your good girl, remember?” you said, your nipples aching through your clothes as he pressed you further into the desk. Fiery shocks and heat went through your body as his finger teased your clit. “Please.”

You whimpered as he moved the digit to your folds, spreading the growing moisture around with a hum. He teased your hole, but didn’t push inside. The slow torture made you quiver and you wondered just how much more begging you had to do.

“Really is a pretty pussy for me to ruin,” he said, finally pushing in with little resistance. Your eyelids fluttered as he slid in and out, but you needed more. “Maybe I should let you go to that party. Send you in there dripping with my seed and show those boys who you belong to.”

“Please, ruin me,” you begged when he pulled his finger out, looking over your shoulder again. He was going to fuck you with the glasses on and the thought had your body going up in flames. Almost as much as the fact that he was stroking his hard cock to the sight of you. “Make me yours, Professor.”

“You’re already mine, baby,” he told you as he lined himself up. “But if I need to come inside you to prove it, so be it.”

You cried out as he thrust into you, the stretch intense and the force hard enough that you had to grip the desk to hold on. Waves of sensations threatened to explode through you at the deep slide of his cock, your body more worked up than you initially thought. You crushed your chest against the hard surface beneath you and you moaned as he pushed in more. There was no doubt in your mind that he was in control.

And you loved every second of it.

“Fuck, I needed this,” he groaned, his hand mapping along your back as you melted under his tender touch. “Should make you ride me wearing this. Put your hands behind your back with my tie.”

His mouth was on your neck in an instant when you moaned, licking and lightly sucking as his hips rocked against yours. The image of you in his lap filled your mind, your hands bound as he helped you bounce up and down on his cock. There would be plenty of time for that later. For now, he was practically pounding you into your desk and you wondered why you hadn’t worn an outfit like this for him sooner.

“Should keep you under my desk,” he went on, feeling his weight press you down more as he thrust. “Such a smart mouth in class, I know you can use it to keep me warm.”

“Fuck, please,” you begged, trying to push your hips back. He drove harder and deeper, your wet walls on the verge of quivering with bliss. “Please, Professor.”

He chuckled low in your ear, your eyelids fluttering again as you mewled. Your building orgasm threatened to rip through you and you barely registered that you begged for him again. “Already close, aren’t you? And I thought you were a good girl,” he said, his breath hot as he sped up his thrusts. “But bad girls let their professors fuck them bare, don’t they?”

“Y-Yes,” you whined, your eyes starting to roll back when he angled his hips to hit that glorious spot inside you. “Oh- There. There! Please!”

“My good and bad girl,” he grunted, moving faster as you arched your back, needing desperately to come.

“Want you to come in me,” you blurted out, teetering on the edge. Just a bit more and you’d fall. You needed it.

“I’ll come in you when you come for me,” he urged, smiling when he said the words that made you come undone. “You can do it, baby. Make me proud.”

The cry you let out was a decibel you didn’t think you were capable of reaching when you came, succumbing to pleasure as you shivered beneath him. He let out an impressive string of swears as you quivered around him, chasing his end as ecstasy flowed through you. A few more thrusts and he was gone, painting your walls with a growl before he rested his head on the back of your neck, both of you trying to steady your breathing.

You made a sound of protest as he pulled out of you, both because you didn’t want him to leave your body and you didn’t want his release spilling all over the floor. As if he sensed the latter, he pulled your underwear back up your legs. “Hey. I’m here,” he said, carefully guiding you to the bed so you could cuddle together. You were thankful he moved you since you didn’t have the strength to move yourself.

Fuck the party. I can’t walk.

“So,” he said after a minute, letting out a deep breath as he rubbed your back. “You earned an A.”

You giggled when he smiled, the sight making your heart speed up again. “Yeah?”

“Oh, yeah,” he sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes. You were glad he was satisfied. “Thank you for indulging me.”

“Don’t thank me. It was fun for both of us,” you said, tracing a heart on his chest. “The glasses really are a nice touch. You should wear them again.”

“Yeah? You like how I look in these?” he asked, adjusting them on his nose.

“I do. You’re always handsome,” you said, his blue eyes crinkling behind the lenses.

“I like looking good for you,” he said, tilting your chin to give you a soft kiss. “And I’m fucking you at the party.”

Oh, Stud. You know how to make a girl feel special.

“You better,” you said, burrowing yourself closer. “But I need a minute before I try to move, Stud.”

“Whatever you want, Smartie,” he whispered, linking your fingers together as he took your hand. “Whatever you want.”

These two will always have a special place in my heart. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[lonelysheepling]

Recently read @queenofthequillandink ’s DPxDC crossover fic Unearthed, Reborn

I got inspired to draw character sheets for Danny, Sam, Jason, and Jazz’s vigilante personas. Here’s a link to the author’s drawings of their outfits (these were a vital reference for me when doing this so thank you so much for sharing them Quill) More commentary (like 7+ paragraphs plus 2 images) about this project and the designs below the “keep reading” line.

None of these thoughts I have for each character are in order, but I have a lot of commentary for these since this project was a lot more conceptual than my normal work. I also just like talking about my art/design process. If you ever find yourself wondering at some point why an element from the original design wasn’t included, the answer is that the removal was completely intentional and part of my grandmaster vision for this work and wasn’t because I just forgot about it entirely during the design process.

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Aconite (Sam)

This was the first one I sketched out, I wasn’t even sure at the time if I was going to fully commit to drawing all of them. I thought that Sam was gonna be the hardest since her description was way longer than the others, but then bird boy beat her out. I took a lot of creative liberties with her design, the bag was added bc I couldn’t figure out how to add pockets to the skirt. I was trying to avoid a joker color scheme so I had a lot of ref images that I got by searching like “purple green aesthetic” on Pinterest. The dark purple and dark forest/blueish green won out in the end. I desaturated a lot of my colors for her just to get as far away from the neon Gotham rogue aesthetic. I also added the bdsm harness over the armor to add more punk elements to her design, I know that in real life that would be very uncomfortable to wear over scalemail armor but sometimes we take creative liberties when they look sick as fuck. Also, I didn’t realize until I went to look for a reference for aconite flowers that aconite is wolfsbane! That was neat to learn! Also, the font I used for Aconite is called “zai Art School Calendar 1931”, I’ve used this a few times for other projects, it’s one of my favorite fonts. The ‘zai’ fonts the creator has are all very good.

Shade (Danny)

There wasn't much to add to this page. His outfit is pretty simple (besides the patterning). I wasn’t sure how to pull of an optical illusion pattern but I was reminded how I sometimes get an eyestrain induced headache when looking at someone wearing a patterned shirt with really thin stripes so I just leaned into the idea of a small/detailed hard lined pattern. I originally made 5 separate patterns for him and then turned them into stamp brushes in procreate. I only ended up using three of them, the one on the chest, the one on the legs, and the one on his hand. But, I imagine the patterns fade and shift when he moves, sort of like a lenticular print. I gave him constellation freckles and stylized the hair’s fade into white. The hair was inspired by how time-woods draws Martin Blackwood’s hair (linked: time-woods’s fanart of Martin Blackwood). Also put way too much effort into the teeth on the mask. I just like the chunky teeth design. Oh yeah and the font I used for him is called “Typewriter_Condensed_Demi”

Erinys (Jason)

Repeatedly ran into the issue of not having enough canvas space bc of my fervent need to thoroughly document and plan out how the wings worked. I also reversed the colors for the bodysuit & armor so the under layer was black while the armor plates were red. I only realized afterwards that I may have been inspired by the red centipedes in Rain World (linked: gif of the red centipede, don’t click the link if you’re unsettled/afraid of bugs/insects), artists subconsciously draw inspiration from other artists all the time though so I’m not like upset about it. I stand by it because it looks sick as hell. Also leaned into the magpie theming for the wings. I think the vigilante form was supposed to be reverse magpie coloring? I can’t remember, but I stuck with normal magpie coloring. The anatomy of how the wings connected to the collarbone was inspired by JayEaton’s Magpie Bridge Project. Reference image link. Link to the article the image is from. I didn’t draw the wing armor because I couldn’t figure out how to would work with the wing anatomy and I ran out of canvas space. Finally, the font used for him is “DIN Condensed” this is a default font, I would’ve used something more punk but I needed the text to be legible.

Insight (Jazz)

I did Jazz after I’d already finished the initial trio, so I had to switch to a new canvas for her bc I’d hit the layer limit multiple times on the previous one. I really do love doing that spiked under-eyelash thing with characters. Don’t know when that started. Anyway, I added the shoulder pads to her outfit to help break up the empty space. The golden eyes were a nice accent color since her design is very overwhelmingly green. Honestly the braid hairstyle and gold eyes really do obscure her identity, multiple times when drawing her I was worried that she didn’t really resemble Jazz enough. There wasn’t a drawing from the author for her so I only had the text description to go off of. I just realized that she sort of reminds me of a forest ranger and I don’t know what to do with that realization. I copy/pasted my drawing of her eyes when gold and recolored them to match her normal eye color. There were two layers for that, a hue shift and a hard light layer to emphasize the shadows.

Here’s what it looks like without the hue shift: 

It looks really cool and I’m 100% that color combo in another drawing down the line. Oh yeah and the font used for this sheet was “Euphemia UCAS”. It comes with Apple’s operating system, I use it as a neutral default text most of the time bc it’s nicer than helvetica but not overly fancy like Times New Roman—and why am I talking about fonts. ——————————————————————— Anyway, this project was very fun to work on. The alt text for this was its own endeavor, hope the folks using screen-readers don’t mind 4-5 paragraphs of description text. Also, I cannot remember for the life of me if Dani got a costume description, but if she does I’ll make sure to update this image set with a sheet for her. And to the author, QueenOfTheQuill, if you’re reading this message that I’ve left at the very bottom of this post below a read more line, thank you for the fic. It’s very good and I’m glad I caught it during my slow decent into DPxDC brainrot. I love the interactions between Jason and Tim, it’s nice seeing a revived Jason that’s not bogged down by pit rage. They definitely seem like they could’ve been good friends if not for the unfortunate circumstances that led them to meet in canon. Also, I’m sure Jazz will love interacting with Batman and Nightwing. So much psychological & childhood trauma to unpack with them. Feel free to use/share these images if you so desire and thanks again for your work.

[morebird]

Okay finally

Small lighting tutorial (very long post, lots of images)

First of all I work on PS but if you have basic knowledge of your program of choice this will be easy to follow.

Second I use a different layer for everything. So assume that each screenshot is a new layer.

Third I've seen people not knowing how to choose colors for light and shadow and for me it comes out naturally so I don't put that much thought in it, but picking the neighboring color in the color wheel never fails, so lets say you use a red for the lighting, then pick either orange or pink for the shadow. The shadow should be fairly desaturated. However if the lighting is the desaturated you can go wild with the shadow saturation. But this is subjective and it's very dependent on your goals and art style.

Okay let's start:

Line art

Base color

Now for the shadow layer. The layer blending mode is in hard light mode

I use the quick selection tool on the previous base color layer, and in the new shadow layer with the hard light mode set I fill the selection with the paint bucket tool.

The lighting layer is on the linear dodge (add) mode.

I use the lasso tool to select the lighting parts, then I fill it with paint bucket tool.

Then once I have everything, I use the quick selection tool on this lighting layer, and in a new layer also on linear dodge mode I use a radial gradient, drag it from the direction of the light source, you have to try it out on it's own but it usual takes me a couple of tries to get the desired intensity.

Also tbh you can just leave it like that no gradient, if pure cel shading is your goal.

I add all the extra shadows, this layer is also on hard light mode, I use the lasso tool and a normal round soft brush.

This next part is something that I sometimes do and sometimes it's not necessary, in this case since the light source is moonlight the light on the clothes should bounce off on the face so I do an extra gradient. (or just do this if you want to make it lighter lmao)

With the quick selection tool, I select either the base color or the shadow layer, and in a new layer with the linear dodge mode, I use a gradient, it has to be either a fairly dark color or a very soft gradient.

And lastly in a new layer, with linear dodge mode I use a soft edge brush on top of the lighting areas, to give it that glow.

Sometimes, like in this case, I have to use some color balance adjustments, more contrast or brightness.

And that's it. Good luck and hope this helped you, if you have any questions my inbox is open 😊

If you think oh I cant believe this creature just gave me great knowledge for free, and you want to drop a few coins in my direction here's my ko-fi

[acciotaitlynn]

living out my ovulation dreams ₊˚⊹

⤷ raf›sylus›zayne›xavier›you

⤷ 18+, unprotected sex, fingering, oral; ꒰m&f receiving꒱smut w some plot, angst, handies, public sex, raf myth spoilers, merman junk, somnophilia, orgy, lil bit of stuff between xav and raf

⤷ 12,240

*this is my own take on the characters; I wrote them a bit differently than I usually do. hope you like it ♡

Sands of crystalized comet dust shimmer and press softly under bare feet as you walk along the Celestial Sea. Trees line the path, guiding you with starlit lanterns and leaves sparkling like spun silver as sea glass chimes gently in the air.

A figure comes into view, crouching by the water, teasing glowing fish with patterns on the surface. An astro guppy takes a playful nip as they swim in excited circles.

You sit beside him on the sand, watching a yellow fish nudge away the little bully before returning, twirling a proud dance for its bravery.

“I’m starting to expect new friends of yours every time we meet,” you tease.

Rafayel smiles softly before turning to you, gaze turning gentle as he takes you in. You don’t miss the way his eyes travel to the swell of your breasts, lingering before they slowly return to yours.

A fierce, pleased blush spreads over your cheeks at the heated look playing on his features.

When you’d put on this dress, embroidered with delicate shells in the same shade as the azure sea he hails from, you’d tried to ignore the hope that it would elicit such an expression.

His eyes swim with an unidentifiable emotion before they dart back to the water. A wave of amethyst hair slips from the knot at the nape of his neck as he shakes his head.

“He’s not necessarily a new friend. I’ve known Nova for a few weeks now. I swam up on him shortly after his birth, alone and scared. He’s been following me ever since. I’m pretty sure he thinks I’m family,” he states, his fingers resuming their shapes.

Your soft laugh fills the air as you nudge him with your shoulder, earning a stumble and a pouty glare in return. “Seems a big responsibility… but you’ve made yourself a fierce protector.” Nova turns quickly, knocking off Rafayel’s teal tormentor as he tries for another nip.

“Creatures of the deep sea are the most loyal beings you’ll ever meet,” he murmurs, sitting back on the sand with a soft sigh. His words seem to hold something back, carrying a weight you can’t begin to understand.

After months of meeting here, you’d hoped he would have opened up more by now, but he continued to hold a barrier between you that fills you with a surprising sadness.

Every gaze that ends too soon, every touch that pulls away too quickly, is an overwhelmingly painful punch to the gut.

You barely know him. You don’t understand the hesitancy and slight mistrust he holds when interacting with you. Sometimes, you wonder why he even takes the time to meet you here. It seems like a gentle, reluctant torture he forces himself to endure. Guilt wells in you for how you make him feel, even if you don’t get it. And for the fact that you genuinely shouldn’t be here.

You have someone waiting at home, someone you deeply cherish. If you’re being honest with yourself, a truth that triples your guilt, you have two significant people waiting, knowing your actions will hurt them both.

Sylus wasn’t home when you left tonight, so you’d taken the rare moment to observe Xavier as he napped on the couch, brushing back his hair as longing swept through you. Their faces swim in your vision, even as you turn to Rafayel.

Another figure with raven hair and bright, golden-green eyes smiles at you tenderly, but you shove him out as quickly as he comes, unable to handle more right now.

The weight of being a terrible person settles in your stomach like a heavy stone, an undeniable truth. You can’t resist it, though. Each man has an indisputable pull, luring you in even when you try desperately to fight it. You can’t make sense of any of it, but you’ve given up on resisting.

You think you did the moment Rafayel’s figure emerged from the waves, the sky painted in a palette of pastel hues as the sea had stirred with magical energy around him.

His form slid effortlessly through the water, casting a cascade of iridescent colors, a mesmerizing dance of blues, pinks, and purples. His fins became legs as the gills on his ears receded, vanishing along with the last traces of his marine form.

Hair cascaded around his shoulders, framing a face sculpted by the gods. His glowing eyes had locked on yours, looking for all the world like he’d come to this beach purely for you. Like there was an irresistible pull for him, too. He stepped onto land with purposeful strides, droplets of glistening seawater evaporating into the morning air as his presence hummed with power.

As he walked toward you, something strange had happened. An overwhelming sense of devotion, bordering on worship, washed over you, sending you to your knees before him. He’d smiled gently and helped you up, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach at his touch before he quickly drew away.

That was months ago, and meeting him here has become a weekly tradition; even more often, if you find time to slip away, your feet carry you to this spot without thinking. He’s always waiting for you, and when he isn’t, he rises from the water shortly after you arrive, breathless, as if he’d swam a long distance to get there.

He turns to you now with a distant look in his eyes, ones that never fail to make your body weak and tingly. Yours trail to his perfect, rosy lips. The desire to kiss him, to be closer to him, has developed into a want so powerful that you don’t know how much longer you can withstand it.

His gaze slowly shifts into that familiar, quiet pain as the unknowing desire etched onto your face burns bright, nearly blinding.

“How was work today?” he inquires as he turns away.

The Celestial Aid Clinic swims behind your eyes. With it, the physician holding a special, secret place in your heart.

“It was good. It’s been slow because the nearby residents are doing so well. I suppose having the best doctor around helps with that,” you reply, as anguish washes through you at his apparent distance. He smiles a genuine smile, nodding softly. The conversation trails off, the waves crashing against the shore, the only sound in the still night. You lay under the stars together, your hands almost touching between you.

Your mind is loud, drowning out the serene atmosphere with thoughts of Sylus; his hands roaming your body, him filling you up so completely, making you feel pleasure unlike any you’ve known. You want to scream, cry, and rage at the heavens for blessing you with an utterly perfect man, only to throw three equally wonderful ones your way like a cruel, cosmic joke.

But your longing is so strong; it's a palpable entity now, demanding that you give in. Drawing closer to him is so natural; his face is all you see as your fervent murmur brushes over his face. “I can’t take it anymore…”

His eyes go wide, hesitant, terrified almost, as your lips meet his. But they part instantly, his tongue dancing with yours as he releases a pained groan. His arm snakes around your waist as he pulls you against him, his body arching into yours, mouth drifting along your neck.

It’s feverish; you both grasping each other like you can’t get close enough, like you’re desperately trying to become one.

When his lips touch your chest, reality sweeps through you, and you jerk back, overwhelmed with disgust at yourself. Your eyes go wide, and you don’t think; you just turn toward home, your feet moving fast as you try to outrun your guilt and the longing to return to him.

He watches you leave, an unavoidable, desperate feeling settling in his chest.

He should be the one swimming away. He’d had a feeling he shouldn’t come here tonight. He was familiar with the look developing in your gaze for him as the bond between you pulled insistently.

He picked up soft footsteps growing closer but didn’t bother to turn from your retreating form. “Seems you finally gave in,” Sylus’s deep tone breaks through the quiet night. “I thought you were “done” with this?” Sylus asks, his tone surprisingly gentle. Rafayel turns away as your figure disappears, giving Sylus a sad smile before turning to the sea, not bothering to respond.

“I was wagering my brother would give in first; you should see his face after he hears her cries of pleasure coming from my room. Those puppy eyes that always make her melt fill with anguish before he storms from the house…”

A rare anger toward the man flares, his chuckle grating on Rafayel’s nerves. Sylus is way too cocky this time around.

“Just because you’re the one she fell for first this time doesn’t mean you have any claim on her that the rest of us don’t, you know that,” he states, standing and preparing to leave. Now that you’re gone, he longs to feel the waters wrapping around him, helping to wash away the hurt that’s been swelling since you left.

“And you know it’s impossible to let go,” Rafayel says simply. His legs transform as he slides into the wave’s embrace, turning to the shore, his burning eyes locking on Sylus’s bright, carmine gaze. The wind howls, harmonizing with the roar of the restless surf as deep booms echo from the depths. Colorful fish scatter as the ocean deepens to a stormy hue, reflecting its deity's mood. “Here we go again,” Rafayel says with overwhelming sadness. The sea returns to its serene state, the waters becoming still once more, leaving Sylus alone with the lap of gentle waves on the shore. 

It’s a quick trip home from the beach, but it feels longer as he strolls, contemplating what he witnessed on the beach. Rafayel was right. This is only the beginning. The start of another turn in a painful cycle.

The cottage comes into view, its smooth, pale stone shimmering with the reflection of distant stars. It's Sylus’s favorite home, among the ones he’s shared with you. A serene blend of simplicity and magic in an idyllic town with cobblestone paths, streetlamps crafted from glowing crystals, and the smell of a small bakery. He’s accustomed to living a lavish lifestyle with you, but he’s surprised he enjoys this much more. It’s peaceful and meaningful, allowing for a deeper connection with the universe's beauty and you.

The rustic inside is a welcome sight, the flames of the fireplace dancing with hues of soft blues and purples, emitting warmth and a faint, calming melody. You and Xavier sit back to back on the shimmering wood that lines the walls, reading books on cloud-shaped cushions. His brother jerks away from you when he sees Sylus, quickly steadying you with a hand to your back and a mumble of “Sorry” before leaving the room, leaving you confused, your book hanging limply in your hand as your eyes search after him.

Sylus releases a frustrated sigh. He doesn’t understand why Xavier is being so hesitant this time around. Typically, he’s the first person to run to you in every life, leading the search for you across the cosmos.

But Sylus won the race this time, and though it wasn’t purposeful, it irks Xavier relentlessly. He knows damn well he could just sit you on his lap, your sweet cunt warming him as you read, and Sylus won’t do a damn thing about it. He could tell him that until he was blue in the face, but he wasn’t going to pull his brother’s dick out and plop you on it. Xavier was going to have to man up and get over it.

He scoops you up, plopping down on the softer couch and holding you close. He can sense hesitancy in how you hold him and sees the guilt in your gaze when you kiss him before turning your focus back to your book.

He aches to reassure you that you have no reason to feel guilty. But he knows you need time. Rafayel is in your life again. Your yearning for Zayne is now palpable. And though Xavier clearly can't see it, your need for him is more potent than all.

Your head plops against Sylus’s chest as you drift to sleep, and he gently removes the book from your hand, cradling your head. He holds you for a long while, listening to the soothing melody of the cosmos flickering in the air and wishing for time to slow down so you can be just his for a little longer. 

Sleep clings to you as you rise from bed—a powerful pull guides you down the hall on gentle feet. Xavier watches wide-eyed as you climb into his bed. There’s no hesitancy in you as your arms wrap around him, nestling against his chest. Slumber pulls you under immediately with a soft sigh of relief.

He isn’t sure what to do. His hands hover above your back, and his heart pounds in his chest. You’ve never done this before. Not in this life anyway.

Joy overwhelms him at you seeking him out. This is what he needs… What he always requires—for you to want him above all. For you to show him at least in some small way.

In most lives, he’s shared a bed with you and Rafayel, so you sleeping in someone else’s regularly doesn’t sit well with him, even if he knows it shouldn’t matter.

Holding you like this is a balm to his soul. Until you start mumbling his name with a familiar longing as your body presses closer. He grows hard instantly, the need for you tearing him apart.

It isn’t long before you grow still, thank the heavens, and Xavier sighs, holding you tighter and settling in for a long night. 

You’re trying very hard not to think about the fact that one moment, you were in bed with Sylus, only to wake up in Xavier’s.

Did Sylus see you? He must have; there's no way around it.

You wonder how Xavier feels, but you haven’t had the chance to ask; he was gone when you woke up.

Nausea churns in your gut, intensifying when you see a figure exiting a treatment room, a tender smile gracing his stoic face. Ugh. Why does that sweet smile calm you instantly? Shouldn’t the fact that it does so feed the guilt within you?

The tranquility of the space and the gentle aroma of herbs and flowers from the garden you share out back add to the serene feeling within you.

Zayne’s office is composed of pale stone, with frosty veining that shimmers gently around delicate, frost-inspired engravings. Frosted glass panels with tiny snowflakes partition the rooms, with beds draped in soft, ethereal fabrics to match.

The space is warmth and ice intermingling harmoniously, perfectly representing the man himself. Your eyes browse the room as you praise your decorating skills.

Zayne touches your shoulder affectionately, a stern note in his voice. “You promised to take the day off today. You went so far as to pinky promise, in fact,” he accuses.

Your eyes dart to the bag in your hands nervously before you hold it out to him. You often grab lunch for Zayne to ensure he takes the time to eat. But you’ve never gone so far as to bring him a meal on your day off.

If he finds it odd, he doesn’t show it; he just regards it with a gentle expression and looks genuinely pleased. “It’s your favorite from the bakery near home. I mostly got sweets; I figured that would get you to eat if I’m not here to force you.”

He chuckles, taking the bag from your hands, his fingers lingering against yours momentarily. “You don’t have to force me; I’ll always do whatever it takes to ease your worries.”

A blush covers your cheeks at his words, and his smile grows wider as you glance away. “Um, I also came to ask if you’d like to try that new ice cream shop tonight,” you mumble sheepishly.

What is wrong with you? You didn’t come here to ask that. Only to drop the food off and leave. Why are you making things worse for yourself?

But, overall, Zayne is your friend, and going out with him is a regular occurrence. You can’t let your growing feelings create distance between you. Pleased, he nods his head. “I can meet you after I close up here,” he suggests.

You wonder how your heart can feel so light yet heavy at once as you head for heaven’s palace. 

Sylus has risen to the commander of the Heaven’s vanguard, with Xavier as his lieutenant. They work seamlessly together, and heaven’s forces have become unstoppable since taking charge.

You come to the training grounds at the palace often, having long sought to be able to protect yourself. A wish both brothers were eager to grant.

Maintaining your focus is tricky as you and Xavier dance.

The two of you are usually seamless, seemingly moving as one. But today, your balance feels off, your mind swarming with ever-nagging thoughts.

Concern fills Xavier’s face as his sword finds its place at his side. You try to avoid looking at how his thin white shirt clings to his chest or how good he looks when he pushes his damp hair back.“Is everything okay?” he asks softly.

You still haven’t spoken about what happened. Perhaps he’s waiting for you to bring it up, but now it doesn’t feel like the time. You see Sylus heading for the castle, so you nod, quickly bidding him goodbye as embarrassment floods you, leaving him confused.

Heading for Sylus's chambers, relief replaces shame as you meet his teasing gaze. “So, you’re running to me this time, kitten?” he drawls.

Shame hits you, only to be drowned out by Sylus wrapping your legs around his waist and kissing you. “It’s nothing to feel guilty about,” he murmurs, pressing you closer. You pull back instantly. “What do you mean it’s nothing to feel guilty about?! Of course, it is, Sylus. I sought your brother in my sleep and woke in his bed. That’s not nothing.”

Why did he always seem to be pushing you toward Xavier? It never ceased to confuse you.

“Look, I love you,” he states simply. “More than anything, I want you to be happy. If you need more than what I give you, then seek it. I’ll never hold that over you.”

You search his eyes. “I never want to make you feel like I need more. Plus, I don’t want you seeking anyone else, so it’d be selfish of me to do so,” you mumble sheepishly.

“I never said that I needed anything more,” he murmurs before his lips are on yours.

He sets you down long enough to tear off your clothes before you’re in his arms, and his cock is deep inside you.

His movements are frantic, but they slow as he carries you to the bed and hoists your legs, pressing as close as he can get with languid, deep strokes.

His eyes never stray from yours as he says, “No matter who or what you want, I’ll never leave you. Remember that.”

Tears fill your eyes at the sincerity in his words, at the way he makes love to you like you’re the most precious thing in this world.

He lets you flip him over as you move against him. Teasing your nipple and smacking your ass, a grin spreading across his face. You cover him in kisses, teeth working at his skin till he’s moaning beneath you, hands digging into your hips as he grinds you against him.

He rubs your clit as you bounce on his cock until you feel him tense and slow before he crushes your lips to his and presses deep as his essence fills you, dragging you over the edge with him.

Your eyes meet his as you stand in the shower. “I’m going out with Zayne tonight,” you say, your voice soft and guilty.

He smiles, kissing your head and stepping under the celestial waterfall whose perpetual warmth endlessly flows. “I promised someone one-on-one training tonight, so I’ll be home late anyway.”

You nod, excitement filling you at the prospect of seeing Zayne, even as you step closer to Sylus.  

“The name itself wins me over,” you state, looking at the sign above the door with Nebula Nibbles spelled out in twinkling stardust. Zayne softly chuckles as he opens the door for you.

The shop is cozy, with pastel tones, floating ice cream scoops, swirling constellations, and murals along the walls. And vibrant displays of scoops and enchanting jars containing sprinkles glow gently throughout the room.

Zayne tries stardust strawberry and nebula nougat while you opt for celestial carrot cake to irk him.

“You’re not allowed to try mine. You can’t reciprocate,” he states.

“That’s fair,” you giggle. But he ends up offering you some of each with a tender smile. “Did Miss Eloise come in today?” you ask, referring to the kind old lady who always brings along her tiny dog.

“She did; she asked about you.”

You sigh deeply. “I hate being off when Rupert comes in,” you pout.

You also hate being off since it’s a day away from Zayne.

Like twinkling stars, you take in the delicate fairy lights hanging around the exterior as you sit in comfortable silence on the couch. Your hands drift closer, pinkies touching. Neither of you moves, but the longing in the air is palpable.

He walks you home, casting his eyes on the luminescent stone’s gentle glow and the small, orb-like lights that hover gently along the edges of the pathway.

“Is everything okay? You haven’t spoken much tonight,” you observe.

He quirks a brow, the corners of his lips curving. “Neither have you,” he quips.

“That’s fair,” you mumble. It grows quiet again, but you step closer, giving him a soft smile.

Every bit of you aches to kiss him goodbye, but you settle for a hug. Before adding more, you need a little while to figure out how you feel about everything.

He stiffens before his arms wrap tightly around you, drawing you closer. He places a soft kiss on your head before he steps back with a sad smile. “Go to bed soon; it’s getting late,” he murmurs.

“Right back at you,” you pout. 

Xavier is cooking when you walk in, and your heart seizes before you realize the accompanying burnt scent isn’t lingering in the air.

“What are you making?” you ask hesitantly.

He gives you a knowing smirk, pulling a tray of freshly baked muffins from the oven. Muffins that look delicious and not burnt.

You can’t help the note of surprise in your voice as you say, “These are delicious!” the lunaberry-filled bread warming your insides. You narrow your eyes at him. “I detect foul play here,” you accuse, grabbing another muffin and walking away.

Hot water helps melt away stress, and the fragrance of celestial blooms is a soothing balm. Your mind drifts to Rafayel, and your hands trace your body as you pretend they belong to him.

Coming around your fingers with his name on your lips does nothing to ease your ache.

Within minutes, you’re running to the beach as fast as your feet can, pushing away every thought that tries to tear you from your goal.

He’s waiting for you, kissing you fiercely as you jump into his arms. You search his eyes, guiding him to the ground and wrapping your legs around his waist. “I don’t know what I’m doing…” you admit, tears filling your eyes.

Acceptance and understanding fill his features as he murmurs, “I know.”

Gods, his lips are soft. You can’t help but nibble and suck, earning deep groans that make your world spin.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” you whine, your body moving against him.

His movements grow hurried, freeing your breasts as he pulls your dress to your hips. Every pull of his lips and flick of his tongue is a wildfire, consuming you whole. He kneads firmly, his hand on your back as he helps you move faster.

You settle between his legs, moving to unbutton his pants, only to have your wrist caught in the process.

You pout at him, sitting back to give him space. “You don’t need to do that, cutie,” he says tenderly.

You move for him again, gaze earnest as you plead, “I want—no, need, to please you. Need to taste you as you cum. It hurts so badly,” you admit.

His throat bobs as he nods, helping you free his length. Of course, it’s as perfect as the rest of him, filling up your throat as you gag around it. You worship the thick head, eagerly lapping up the essence that drip out. “You taste so good,” you groan, bobbing as you suck and slurp around him.

He’s quietly whimpering, head thrown back in ecstasy as he bites his lip harshly, hips making tiny pumps into your mouth.

You find that you love teasing him, making relentless eye contact as you playfully circle and suck the ridges, murmuring, “cum for me… please?”

A faint glow appears above his heart as he nods feverishly, hands tangling in your hair as he holds you against him. He moves slow and deep before he’s still, and his warmth fills your throat. You hum happily around him, swallowing it all down, working him til he’s whining.

He’s so cute. His puffy lips and rosy cheeks, that perfect pout as he lays you on the sand, mumbling, “need to taste you just as bad…” before your panties tear off, and his tongue traces over you.

It’s soft and warm, aware of every spot that makes you squirm beneath it. Your thighs squeeze his face as you move against him, delighting in his slick chin as he meets your eyes and slips his fingers inside you.

He can’t take his gaze away from where you join, from you squeezing him tightly as he slides in and out. His mouth takes you fully, passionately working as he moves inside you, moaning eagerly against you.

The sight of him sucking your clit is all it takes to have your walls fluttering around him as a sharp cry leaves your lips. His fingers slip out as your knees frame your face, and his tongue dips in, pumping wildly until your pussy stills. Even then, he licks up every drop that leaves you, leaving you a moaning mess.

You pull your legs back further, loving the way his eyes latch onto your dripping core, still pulsing from the absence of him. “Need you to cum inside here, too,” you whisper, your eyes pleading with him. He curses softly, wasting no time at all before he’s burying himself deep, groaning against your neck as he bottoms out.

As he fills you up, an image flashes in your mind—you and Rafayel joined just like this, but at another time, another era.

That overwhelming sense of worship fills you again as you clench him tighter, pulling him close.

“I’ve missed you so much, my lord… missed you inside me so much,” leaves your lips on a sob without you fully realizing it, so lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

He stills, eyes wide as his fingers dimple your skin.

Suddenly you’re on all fours, ass rising in the air as he grips you tight, fucking you roughly. Your back arches deep, cunt squeezing around him so tight he can barely breathe as he grabs your swaying breast.

“Best follower I could ever ask for…” he praises, earning a pitiful whimper from you and the pulsing of your pussy as you come around him, tears overflowing from the pleasure.

His thrusts turn sloppy as you get incredibly slick and warm, walls still pulsing around him. He guides you onto his lap, pressing deep while his hands move your hips. You take over, though, bouncing eagerly on his cock as you chase your next orgasm.

Every touch from him is like the most potent drug; every high is so intense it renders you helpless.

You need more.

You need this forever.

“I love it when you use me,” he mumbles, hands traveling your skin as he nips at your breast. You hold his mouth to the sensitive bud, forcing him to suck as you ride him.

Your hands cup his chin as you kiss his neck, licking the soft blue scales appearing on his skin, pulling a deep cry from him as his hips pump sharply.

“This isn’t enough…” you mumble pathetically, regretting your words when he stills and his eyes quietly assess you.

He brushes your hair back, kissing you gently. “I can help. But you’ll need to trust me,” he says, his tone suddenly serious.

You nod, whispering, “Always,” without hesitation.

He scoops you up, legs transforming as he glides into the water.

You can’t help tracing the soft, translucent blue scales along his tail, mirroring the play of the night sky against the sea’s surface.

Blushes of pink and purple merge seamlessly with blue along the fin's delicate edges, like the pattern of flickering flames.

Awe, sparkles in your eyes. Your arms wrap around his neck as you whisper, “You are so beautiful.” To which he blushes fiercely.

Something incredibly thick prods at your entrance, excitement and arousal flooding you as you realize what it is. You bounce eagerly, a grin spreading across your face.

He smiles, fingers dimpling your ass as he guides you. “Calm down, cutie, it’ll hurt at first…”

You go still, another vision flashing—his cock inside you while the waters splash around you.

You snap back, searching his gaze.

“Rafayel, do we know each other?”

He cups your face, smiling even as he looks so sad. “Maybe we’ve met in another life.”

His lips crush yours before you respond, and he gently pushes you onto him. You watch where you join, dripping around his impossibly thick length, much bigger than his human form, though similar in appearance.

It extends seamlessly from the tail, the softest, prettiest blues with delicate pink veins.

And the ridges… Hitting every spot just right as he fills you up.

Cries of pain and pleasure echo in the night as he bottoms out, your pussy stretching so wide around him it doesn’t seem physically possible.

He’s nervously gauging your reaction, but you pull him close, nuzzling against him as you bounce slowly. He holds you tight and lets you do as you please, just gently riding him as he presses kisses to your skin.

“This is what I need,” you murmur dreamily. “To worship my god in his truest form.”

He curses softly, impaling you, cock pushing into you so deep you see stars. Fervent murmurs of “harder” and his name fill the air as the sea roils around you, glowing with excited, colorful fish.

He doesn’t mean to whisper, “I’ve missed you so much…” with his face buried in your neck, but he doesn’t mind the slip since you earnestly reply, “I’ve missed you too,” before latching onto him for dear life and meeting him stroke for stroke.

He stills, resting where the water meets the sand, propping up on his hands and guiding you on top. He watches as he pushes inside you, gently commanding, “Show me how much.”

More than happy to oblige, you smile and nod, turning into a slut before his very eyes.

It’s endearing, as always. Tits bouncing wildly in his face as your demanding little hand presses him against them with a needy whine.

“So needy,” he teases. “Can’t let you go so long without my cock next time, yeah?”

“Speaking of, you waited entirely too long this time. You could have taken me weeks ago. Aren’t gods supposed to be merciful to their followers?” you mumble grumpily before your world turns upside down.

Memories upon memories.

Puzzle pieces slide into place as you scream in agony.

You and Rafayel are living so many lives together before your very eyes, lives filled with indescribable happiness and joy.

Some images are distorted, blurry renditions with other unidentifiable people. Something that leaves you frustrated for reasons you can’t explain.

The world spins as you meet his concerned eyes, feeling him grip your face as he watches you with eyes full of disbelief. Your eyes shine with understanding and tears as you whisper, “My husband.”

He hasn’t heard his favorite name leave your lips since the first lifetime. If your cunt weren’t keeping him grounded, he’d surely pass away from happiness.

Horror fills your eyes as you realize, “How could I forget you? I always forget you…”

Sobs wrack through you as you whisper, “I’m so sorry,” again and again, holding him close as you rock him, his tears dropping on your skin.

He meets your gaze. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” he says softly, firmly.

“Why does everyone keep saying that? Causing others' pain is something to be sorry for!”

He brushes your hair back, giving you a tender, sad smile. You groan softly at how the slight movement makes him jerk inside you. He starts to guide your hips, but you catch his hands. “Why are you still here?” you plead.

Why is he still here so many lifetimes later, when all you’ve truly done is cause him pain?

Confusion fills his features before understanding does. He nuzzles you, whispering, “Because I love you, princess,” before his lips capture yours.

You can’t stop crying, but he doesn’t seem to mind. He kisses your tears as his fall silently, a look of sheer joy playing on his face. The boundaries he’s held around himself all these centuries are long gone; there is no hesitancy in his touch, no sadness clouding the lust.

You sit back with a wide smile as he watches you move. The friction of his soft scales against your inner thighs and his skin under your nails as you grip him is everything.

It makes a bit more sense now why your coupling feels so perfect.

It’s written in the stars.

Wonder and awe shine in his eyes as he squeezes your tit, grinning and guiding your hips. “You take me so well, cutie,” he praises with a firm smack to your ass.

“Harder,” you murmur, your cries of the word getting louder with each slap until you’re moving against each other so fervently you can hardly breathe, your cheeks red and tingly.

Your fingers tangle in his damp hair as your pussy pulses around him, and you press him deep. He feels you soak him as his cock gets messy. He buries his face in your neck with a hoarse shout, hot essence filling you in thick bursts as he throbs inside you.

Your heart pounds as you make a foolish decision.

“Do you want to stay at my place tonight?”

Surprise fills his eyes as he grins. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you?” he teases.

You nod, pushing away the embarrassment and guilt.

Sylus gives him a subtle nod when he enters, ruffling your hair and gently kissing you before retreating from the room.

Rafayel had been selfish; he hadn’t even considered who his presence might hurt. Wide blue eyes watch him from the sofa as you grab his hand and lead him to your room.

He’s inside you for hours before exhaustion finally takes you, with you shamelessly crying his name loud enough for the whole house to hear.

Xavier enters quietly, murmuring, “Would it be okay if I stay a little while?” He folds Xavier against him, running his fingers through his hair.

“This sucks,” Xavier mumbles petulantly, his deep pout forcing Rafayel to hold back laughter.

He moves over him, whispering, “Let us make it better,” before his tongue meets his.

Feeling each other's touch after so long is renewing. And they meld together so easily.

Xavier groans in pain as Rafayel pulls the covers down, revealing your bare form. He frees Xavier's length, running his fingers through your folds gently and scooping your essence onto his cock.

He lives for the cute little moans Xavier releases as he breaks under his hold.

“You can touch her, you know. I won’t tell.” He nips his ear playfully.

Xavier blushes and shakes his head.

“She always likes it,” he reassures, guiding Xavier to your breast.

From there, it’s easy. Xavier carefully tucks you under his arm as he lays back, fingers pinching and tugging your breasts as Rafayel strokes him. His hips buck up, and he reaches over to tease your clit, marveling at your slickness with a quiet curse.

He has you whimpering in your sleep, moaning his name when you don’t even know it’s him, coming around his fingers as cum coats his stomach and Rafayel eases him through the waves.

He holds you for a while, but he’s gone when you wake up. Rafayel is as well, with a note that says he’ll meet up with you later.

You’re running for Sylus immediately, guilt washing over you as you throw open the door and meet his gaze. “Morning, kitten,” he murmurs, a small smile curving his lips.

His arms gather you up without hesitation, his kisses soft and searching as you travel each other's skin.

“Were you not sated last night, sweetie?” he teases, smacking a breast and admiring its bounce.

“Can never get enough of you, Sy,” you say, moving between his legs.

He tastes so good. Pleasing him is a powerful aphrodisiac; his moans and gasps make your body sing.

Such a powerful presence, yet you can make him whimper beneath you in moments.

You work him fervently until he’s spilling in your throat before sliding him inside your cunt while he still twitches.

“I thought about you last night,” you admit, fingers tracing his perfect lips. His cock hardens again at your admission.

He growls, grabs your throat, and moves your hips, waiting for you to say more.

“Rafayel was deep inside me, and I kept thinking how good it would feel if you were too,” you whined, getting tighter at the image.

Sylus chuckles, nodding to where you join, where you struggle to take him. “We’ll shred you into ribbons, kitten,” he teases before flipping you over and pinning you down.

His pace is punishing, the grip of his hands possessive and painful.

You’re sobbing into the comforter as he takes you, commanding you to tell him you’re his over and over. “Again, sweetie.” More sharp slaps to your thighs and ass and pinches to your clit.

“I said you can fuck whoever you like. I didn’t say I wouldn’t make you pay,” he sneers, impaling the breath from your lungs.

He chokes you so hard your vision swims as he makes you tell him how good he feels inside you.

Needy and demanding of reassurance.

He had no reason to be upset, and he knows it. This is a song he’s sung time and again.

But his grip painfully tightens as he rubs your clit, feeling you tremble and cry around him, flooding his cock with warmth. His hips slam deep, filling you up with a horse shout, his teeth finding your shoulder with a sharp bite.

His mood improves instantly. He’s wrapping you in his arms, wiping your tears, and telling you it's alright.

“That was nice and all, but I’m starting to think you’re not as okay with this as you lead on,” you accuse hoarsely, massaging your sore skin.

He chuckles, tucking you against his chest and kissing your head. “I said I’m okay with it, kitten. I didn’t say I like it.” That wasn’t entirely the truth.

“You’re just telling me this now!?” you huff, giving his ankle a hard kick.

His laughter fills the room as he dodges your next attack, pinning you down on the bed and kissing you with a mischievous smile. “After they finish with you, do I have permission to fuck you however I please?” he murmurs.

Confusion fills your features. “They?”

“Answer me, sweetie.”

You nod softly. “You can always do as you please,” you whisper.

His cock fills you again, and this time, he makes love to you slowly, tenderly, as his lips gently trace the bruises he left on your skin. 

You try hard to hide the faint bruise on your neck, and everything is going well until you and Zayne are on the way back from lunch when you get hot and foolishly unbutton your collar.

His eyes go distant, and he’s quiet on the way back to the clinic. Mumbled responses and a cold expression are all he gives before disappearing into his office and locking the door.

You’re floating with joy, but you feel like a deflated balloon under the weight of his energy. The hurt that flashes in his eyes when he sees Sylus’s handprint replays in your mind on a loop as you clean exam rooms.

You’re humming a melody to cheer yourself when Zayne walks in, closing the door softly behind him.

He crosses his arms, eyes searching yours as his low voice pierces the air.“

Why are you denying yourself of me?”

You freeze, your mouth hanging open as you stumble over your words. “Uh, what? I’m n-not—I just,” you mumble pathetically, glancing anywhere but at him.

He tilts your chin, his smirk teasing as he quips, “Yes. You are.”

Your eyes narrow as irritation swirls through you.

There seems to be an abundance of cocky, overly-familiar men in your life, and some of them are a little too mouthy of late.

“What makes you think you know what I want?” you snap softly.

He hovers over you, lips inches from you as he angles your face. His low voice makes your body heat.

“So, you don’t like it when I do this, then?” he asks, pressing his lips to yours.

You zap to life, excitement dancing in you as you shrug, murmuring, “It’s not awful...”

He hums, nodding, tracing his tongue over your ear, biting gently.

“And this?” he breathes. Your body is limp in his arms as he unbuttons your collar, lips brushing over your skin like a soothing mist.

“It’s nice,” you admit, blushing when his eyes heat, and he murmurs, “Just nice?”

He kisses you again, wrapping you around him.

“Because this is the best thing I’ve ever felt,” he says earnestly, capturing your mouth passionately.

You hold him tight but groan in frustration, your balled fist gently smacking him. His soft laugh fills the air.

“What’s all this about?” he asks, trying and failing to keep his tone serious as he watches your outburst.

You sigh dramatically and wiggle around. “Everything is just so weird lately…” You whine, giving him a dire look.

“You should honestly stay far away from me,” you tell him in a firm tone, your expression dead-serious, to which he just grins.

“Thank you for the warning. I’ll keep it in mind.”

He sets you on the exam table, a mirthful glint in his eyes as snowflake-print latex traces your skin.

“W-what are you doing…” your voice is hesitant as he unbuttons your top, quickly pushing your bra down to free your breasts. They’re in his mouth before you can even protest. Not that you would. The pull of his lips and the flick of his tongue have you arching into his mouth with needy little whines as you pull him closer.

He hums happily at your reaction to his touch, feeling more at ease than in years. Perhaps since the last time he held you in his arms.

You eagerly search every bit of him you can reach, every touch fueling the desire to bend you over this table and show you how much he’s missed you.  But he prides himself on his patience and can hold out a little longer.

Plus, one of his favorite things in every lifetime is driving you mad until you're begging him to fill you for the first time.

In a particularly cherished memory, you push him down in frustration at his game, tugging his pants down and sitting on his cock without a second thought. He smiles softly as the image swims in his mind, pulling down your shorts and lacey ivory thong, one that sends him reeling.

You gasp softly as he props your legs next to you, spreading you open as you turn away, blushing fiercely. He guides your gaze to his. “Eye’s on me, little one,” he murmurs, ensuring you listen before he fixes his attention with a content hum as he holds you open, playing messily, coating you with firm strokes back and forth.

Worry flows through you as you stop him, anxiety clear in your voice as you ask, “Is anyone here?”

“Rupert and Eloise are waiting on lab results in exam room three. Better keep quiet,” he murmurs before his finger slides inside you, toying with your g-spot with a pained groan as you squeeze him tightly.

Out and in, then he circles your clit. Over and over until keeping quiet is near impossible.

You pray Miss Eloise’s long-distance hearing isn’t great because the cry of pleasure you release when Zayne’s mouth closes over you is feral. You hold him against you, grinding against his face fervently as his tongue dips inside and his nose brushes your clit with each movement.

“Look at me,”  he reminds softly before his fingers set a steady pace, edging you until you’re whimpering his name, begging him for release. 

He holds your face, forcing you to watch his fingers move inside you.

“Look at how wet you are... Making such a mess,” he scolds, awe filling his features as he watches you drip onto the shimmering fabric.

“Come for me now, love. Let me see,’ he commands softly.

You keep his gaze as pleasure washes through you, whimpering pathetically as his fingers tease you until you’re begging for him to stop.

A tender smirk crosses his face as he pulls your pants up and fixes your top, brushing your hair back into place with a chaste kiss to your head.

You reach for his pants eagerly, but he catches your hand.

“Let’s save that for another day,’’ he says gently before shutting the door behind him.

What the fuck just happened?

You look around the room, wide-eyed and sated at the mess you made.

Zayne was his usual stoic self for the rest of the day, acting as if nothing had happened. But he did ask if you want to go to a movie tomorrow, blushing fiercely.

Interacting with Xavier has never been awkward until now.

You’re sitting shoulder to shoulder on the sofa, taking turns reading Destined in Starlight, a series you both enjoy. He picked up the newest novel today, seeming eager to start reading when you got home.

But as his soft voice fills the air, something unidentifiable creeps in, and his face takes on a distant edge.

He scoots further away at one point with a soft, frustrated sigh. You scoot closer immediately in retaliation, and he sighs again, resignation in his features as the story continues.

Now he’s silent, staring at the softly glowing stars floating throughout the room, arms crossed, his brows scrunched in thought.

You’re just staring at him, frustration swirling through you.

You speak at the same time.

“What is stuck up your butt right now?”

“You seemed to be enjoying yourself last night.”

Ah.

Suddenly, you feel more guilty than ever.

For some reason, the hurt in his cerulean eyes hits you harder than anything else has.

You reach for him, but he jerks away, cracking your heart as he glares at you.

“Has anything else happened?” He asks accusingly.

Rafayel’s face swims in your mind—your literal husband. Then Zayne’s, his chin glistening with your essence.

Your eyes dart away as you blush fiercely, telling him all he needs to know. He huffs a laugh, hanging his head and nodding, almost emotionless.

Then he walks out of the house. 

Stones shimmer softly underfoot like twinkling stars as you walk through the park hand in hand with Sylus.

He admires the fairy lights strung along the bushes before turning to you with a gentle smile.

He took the news about Zayne well. Or at least he did an excellent job at pretending.

You cuddle together in the star-gazing meadow, surrounded by moon-themed cushions, admiring the open sky. The park provides telescopes and illustrated guides, telling stories of constellations and mythical sky creatures.

Sylus points out a particular constellation as you roll your eyes: Corvus, the Star Crow, the wise and watchful deity overseeing the balance between life, death, and transformation.

Figures.

“Have you ever heard of the Constellation of Kindred Spirits, kitten?” He asks suddenly, his voice hinting at sadness as he points to the cosmos. You shake your head.

“Representing deep connections and soul bonds with individuals,” he murmurs, brushing your cheek before motioning to another.

“That star-cluster is special. The Constellation of Radiant Heart. Standing for love, compassion, and the internal light that guides the soul.”

You watch him closely, feeling something stir within you. Some inexplicable feeling of understanding.

Strange, since you understand nothing at all.

“They compliment each other well, enhancing shared connections and destined relationships...” He pulls you close and kisses your head, saying nothing more, which you find odd. The night trails into a comfortable silence as you hold each other.

Why are his words running on a constant loop in your head, like a mystery you can’t solve?

Rafayel texts you to let you know he can’t make it over. Which is fine; you don’t want to leave Sylus’s side anyway. Later that night, you cradle his head as his breath evens out, stroking his hair softly.

Now that you’re alone, your thoughts and emotions run through you so quickly that you can’t make sense of them.

You feel incredibly guilty for not telling and Xavier about your restored memories, but how do you even broach that conversation? “Hey, so I’ve been married for centuries but, like, I didn’t know though, so it’s cool, right?”  

No.

You want to check on Xavier but can’t handle his anger right now.

You miss Zayne and Rafayel.

And more than anything, you wish they were all cuddled up with you, a vivid image that has your thighs pressing together and a moan slipping out.

You tuck yourself against Sylus with a sigh, wishing this wasn’t so unbearable. 

Guardians of the Cosmic Veil is awful. It’s a hate-watch for you and Zayne now.

The theatre is nearly empty because most people left a few minutes in. You haven’t left because you enjoy each other's company and Zayne’s dry humor.

“I think the plot got lost somewhere in the cosmic void—and nobody bothered to retrieve it.”

“It’s like escaping to a world where entertainment doesn’t exist.”

“This truly is taking me to another realm—one where I question my life choices for watching it.” 

His arm wraps around you, pulling you close as his hand trails up your thigh.

He’s not watching the movie at all. He’s too focused on the damp spot he sees when he pushes your dress up.

You gasp, wide-eyed gaze searching his as his fingers trail over it with a pleased hum. “Zayne—”

He rests his head against yours, kissing your cheek. “Shh. Let me take care of you.”

He’s pushing your panties aside and filling you in seconds, smiling as you make a soft noise of pleasure, and the person a few rows in front of you turns and makes eye contact.

You pray the lady can’t see you blushing as you wave and mouth an apology, narrowing your eyes at Zayne even as your hand travels to his cock, palming this thick length.

Gods, he’s going to feel so good inside you.

He moans quietly at your touch, pressing your hand down hard and grinding into it before collecting himself.

He must like it when you watch because he guides your face again, murmuring, “Look how beautiful you are.”

His hand is so sticky, his long fingers slipping in and out—one of the hottest things you’ve ever seen. Him biting his lip harshly, his brows scrunching as he tries to hold back how good you’re making him feel is a close second.

The tighter the band grows in your core, the harder your hand works his cock, the material of his pants rubbing you raw.

You’re both doing a poor job of staying quiet now. The lady in front of you walks out. You hope it’s because of the terrible film, but you highly doubt it since she casts a disgusted look in your direction as she leaves. You can’t help but giggle, earning a soft smile as his fingers fuck you harder.

Squelching sounds fill the theatre as you grip his hand and ride it until you’re breathless and weak. You keep working him as you lick his fingers clean, eyes never leaving his hooded gaze.

His cock twitches violently, and you giggle as he curses and trembles, watching a dark stain spread on his pants.

“Little minx,” he accuses with a tender smile.

On the walk out, his cheeks are cherry-red, and he makes you pay by fingering you in the parking lot until you are well past overstimulated and begging him to stop.

The stain on his pants gets wider without you even touching him. 

You’re half asleep, standing in Xavier’s doorway again.

He sits up, watching you climb into bed with a look of hesitation on his face.

“I thought you have company,” he says, moving aside instead of pulling you close.

“Why are you so upset with me, Xai?” you mumble, a sleepy pout on your face that melts his heart.

He looks away, shaking his head. “I’m not.”

You hum sweetly, poking his arm. “Someone is full of it,” you tease.

He catches your hand and the other when it moves next, with a fierce look in his eyes. You don’t think; you just sit on his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, nuzzling his nose and reveling in the surprise on his face.

“Are you mad because you wish you could do this?” you murmur, kissing him gently as your heart soars.

“Or maybe because you want to see these?” you ask, freeing your breasts with a smile at the desire clouding his features. He grips your thighs tightly, dimpling your skin as his throat bobs.

You take his hand, guiding it to your damp boxers—boxers he notices are his.

He hasn’t seen those in forever...

Joy overwhelms him—you had wanted him all this time.

Watching you bond with everyone but him was torture. He’s always believed you share something special that isn’t there with the others. So it was like a slap in the face when you seemed to prove otherwise.

He’d been too stupid, too slow—Sylus had latched onto your essence across the cosmos, rushing over immediately. By the time Xavier arrived, you were already head over heels, and even though it shouldn't, it felt wrong to intrude.

“Maybe you’re longing to fuck this?” you murmur.

He shakes his head, rubbing you delicately. “I don’t want those things—I need them… I need you.”

He cradles your head as he kisses you. First, soft and slow, then he’s pulling you tight against him as his tongue searches your mouth.

He feels like coming home after the worst day.

Like finding your guiding star in an endless night sky.

His touch elicits things you’ve never felt before, and he’s barely touching you. Just tracing shapes over your back and thighs, pressing kisses to your shoulders, and the swell of your breasts.

It’s absolutely ruining you.

Gripping your hair tight and tilting your head back so your pretty tits arch in his face, his lips and teeth in harmony to create faint bruises as he takes on a more possessive edge.

Every effort to get you closer, every mark that blooms, every rough grab of his hands that leave their sign, feels like an effort to claim what’s his.

You let him do as he pleases, gasping in a perfect mix of pain and pleasure, taking it like “his good little girl.”

You’re nothing but a doll on his lap. A mere plaything. And he’s really missed his favorite toy.

Your tits are red and puffy from the abuse of his mouth and hands, and your lips are slick and swollen as whimpers slip out.

“F-feels so gooood…” you sigh, a dreamy expression on your face as you watch him.

Lust shines in his blue eyes, their depths seeming unfathomable. The anger he’s trying to work off sharpens his features; his brows knit, and his jaw clenches as he uses you, looking nothing like the Xavier you know.

The soft, gentle man who holds a special place in your heart is long gone.

Honestly? You aren’t sure which version you like better.

“I missed you so much…” he whispers, confusion rising like a familiar friend.

There it is again.

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Rafayel said the same thing.

And just like you had then, you earnestly reply, “I missed you, too,” without thinking.

He says something, but you can’t hear it because a terrible pain shoots through your head, sending you into a void of swirling images from different times and different eras—all containing the man beneath you. Tears spill over as you murmur his name,  and he holds you tight, rocking you back and forth as worry rages in him.

Lifetimes of the most tender love you’ve ever known and the most profound friendship you’ve ever had flash before your eyes.

The missing pieces settle in your heart as it mends, repairing the thread that binds your souls together.

He comforts you in silence while you cry, but it’s taking everything in him not to beg you to talk to say something. Meeting his eyes, your gaze wide and pained, you cup his cheek, whispering, “I remember… everything,” in a small, scared voice.

You can’t possibly mean what he thinks you mean, but hope flares in him even as he fights it.

Your hands ball into fists as you hit him weakly, your tears welling over while emotions hit you so hard they make you feel sick. “What are you doing here!?” you ask, your voice breaking as you hit him again, only to have your arms pinned.

“I don’t understand,” he says softly, which frustrates you more. His kind, loving voice is like a knife to your heart.

“We promised each other, Xavier! In our first life, we promised to move on if anything happened. Specifically, we said there would be no endless searches through the cosmos,” you accuse, struggling against his hold.

His eyes widen, and his body locks up with a look of sheer disbelief. Your frustration softens a little at the tears slipping down his cheeks. You kiss some away and rest your head against his. “You were supposed to keep living, to go on and be happy, not waste your life in an endless cycle of torment. You aren’t leashed to me like Raffie... You have no responsibility to me.”

He releases his hold, smiling softly as his thumb circles your nipple. He realizes then that you don’t quite know everything… But he’ll take what he can get.

“You must have known I wouldn’t listen. Besides, would you truly not have searched for me if you remembered?” he asks, and his question hits home. You deflate like a balloon, your exasperation leaving you as sadness replaces it.

Pain shoots through your head again, so much worse than before. And then—Every puzzle piece clicks into place, and the finished product is a rendition of eternal love and devotion written in the stars.

Centuries ago, a foretold alignment of planets occurred as the sky vibrated with ethereal energy, giving constellations a front-row seat to the grand celestial ballet.

Mere patterns of stars were imbued with life, transforming into beings of radiant light and consciousness.

Five extraordinary stars came to life that day—The Constellation of Radiant Heart, representing compassion, love, and the internal light guiding one’s soul.

Kindred Spirits: deep connections and soul bonds between individuals.

Frosted Bloom: purity, resilience, and the delicate beauty of life in cold environments.

Eternal Flame: enduring passion, resilience, and the warmth of everlasting love.

And Eternal Union: the timeless bond between soulmates and love’s enduring nature across lifetimes.

You, Sylus, Zayne, Rafayel, and Xavier.

The constant pull to reach each other began instantly, bringing you and Rafayel together, with the others following soon after.

The foretold prophecy was whispered anew as word of your existence spread. It spoke of great power and the consequences of it being misused or led astray.

Signs pointed to your union being the power spoken of, as it embodies constellations that, when aligned, wield an offspring of energy capable of shifting the balance between light and darkness.

Of unhinging the very fabric of reality.

A council of gods striving to maintain this delicate balance intervened to prevent such possibilities, knowing that love, while powerful, could be unpredictable. 

Celestial threads were disrupted, corrupting their natural flow to keep you separated.

Yet, you naturally gravitate together—a cosmic force of nature beyond control, contributing subtly to the balance of creation. Such that your rediscovery of each other seems harmonious, like a divine occurrence, allowing it to slip right under the radar.

A fierce deity named Astra sent out a wave across the cosmos, selectively targeting your memories of the others.

You have no idea what broke the spell. Hopefully, Astra is dead; whatever it is,  you thank the gods for it.

You snap to reality, your eyes locking with Xavier’s as you smile, whispering, “My guiding star, come to life…” with wonder in your voice.

“Now I see,” you tease softly, cupping his cheeks as you both begin to cry.

Your lips find his, and the way you make out feels like it did the first time. His hand slips into your boxers, a low groan leaving him when he feels how wet and warm you are.

His fingers play in the slickness before they fill you, pumping deep and fast as he squeezes your breast, watching your every reaction.

Suddenly he’s freeing his cock, tearing your bottoms for easier access, and all but impaling you.

His hand grips the nape of your neck, guiding your head to his, as his arm winds around your waist, pulling you closer.

“You wanna apologize for taking so long to let me have you this time? Bet you're regretting it now that you remember my cock is your favorite,” he murmurs, his hands cupping your ass as he lifts you to the tip and down to a languid rhythm.

“Say it—tell me you’re sorry,” he demands softly, mouth finding your breast as he waits for your response.

“I am sorry,” you say, meaning it. He pushes deep, stilling you, his eyes searching yours.

“I know it irks you that you were last in line,” you tease, trying to keep a straight face.

His eyes narrow with a playful expression as he bites your boob. Hard.

He devours your shriek, throwing you on the bed and spreading you wide, fingers fucking you until you're crying his name.

His cock slips inside, lips curving with a soft smile, his eyes full of love, as he fucks you like it's all you’re suitable for.

“Tell me how good it feels,” he instructs calmly, with an almost bored tone, as he watches you squirm beneath him.

His cock stabs you sharply when you don’t respond.

“Fuck! It f-feels amazing. It always feels amazing!”

His pleased hum fills the air, sending shivers down your spine. “And whose cock is best?” he asks with a mischievous smile.

He’s playing like it’s a joke, but you know he’s serious.

He rubs your clit hard, gripping your throat as he hovers over you. “Well. What’s your answer?” he murmurs, kissing you softly.

You can’t see straight from him fucking you so hard, and he’s cutting off your air just right, causing pleasure to curl painfully, just waiting to snap.

“Yours, Xavier! Gods, you know that!” you sigh in exasperation, rolling your eyes to the heavens.

Xavier is the most jealous, hands down, with Raf close behind. Xavier needs constant reassurance of how much he means to you. If he doesn't get it, he’s either pouty or he’s destroying your poor body out of spite; there is no in-between.

“Good girl,” he coos, pushing your legs back and settling over you, teeth teasing your ear as he whispers, “And who do you love most?”

Your pussy tightens painfully, pulling him in deep as you kiss him and ease his worries.

“You Xai. It’s always been you silly.”

He makes a sweet, happy sound, his ears turning pink as he hides his face. The band in your core snaps so suddenly, hurtling you into an orgasm painful in its intensity.

You’re making such a mess, his cock squelching around so loud.

He’s slamming into you, watching you suck him in, whimpering as his hips slow and his essence warms you.

Then his total weight is on you, showering you with kisses til you're breathless and giggling. The storm in his eyes calms, and he can’t keep the smile off his face as he repeats, “I missed you so much!” with another little nuzzle.

Sylus walks in so quietly that you don’t hear him until his breath is against your skin.

“Seems our little pet has been keeping secrets,” he drawls.

His hand begins to trace your body, and Xavier leans back, hips resuming their pace as he spreads your legs and shifts his focus to where you join.

You groan, squirming around, grinding against him as excitement stirs.

You love it when they play with their toy together.

“When were you planning to tell me, sweetie? Your memories have been bubbling up for a while now,” he accuses, giving your breast a light slap with a teasing grin before he makes his way to your clit, rubbing slow, tortuous circles in time with Xavier’s thrusts.

Xavier’s watching Sylus’s fingers swirl above his cock, slipping in an out of you, a dazed, heady feeling taking over him as his soft voice reaches your ears like the embodiment of sin for someone seemingly so pure.

“Getting so tight… You always have liked it best when we fuck you together, huh?”

Sylus chuckles, capturing your whimper as Xavier’s pace quickens, cute little sounds leaving him as his fingers coat you messily, gripping your thighs tight with sloppy pumps of his hips.

“How much do you remember?’ Sylus inquires, his breath brushing your ear before trailing along your neck.

“Everything,” you murmur breathlessly. His gaze seeks yours, features full of disbelief and wonder.

“Everything?” he repeats, scared to believe it.

Tears fill your eyes, and a smile spreads wide as you nod fervently. His hand squeezes your cheeks, and his kiss takes your breath away.

“Well then, I guess you see that you owe us. We follow you across the cosmos… You put us through so much, kitten,” he says, his tone sweet yet mocking.

You roll your eyes, tossing him an exasperated glare. “You know well that you chase each other, not just me, jackass.”

You are shimmering stars that are only whole when together.

“Doesn't matter,” he says, freeing his cock; he turns your head and wets your lip with his essence. “Time to pay up.”

You act annoyed, but in reality, having them fill you at once and using you for their pleasure in such a primal way is sheer ecstasy.

Xavier’s teasing you, pressing kisses to your neck and cheeks while he murmurs filth in your ear, watching you choke around Sylus.

“I know you can take him better than that, angel.”

“No fair, Sy! Your cock is bigger this time. It doesn’t even fit.”

“Our perfect little star… You know you were made just for us, right?”

“Go on, tell him whose cock makes you feel best.”

That one earns him a knock upside the head as Sylus pushes him back.

Xavier’s soft laugh fills the air, hips resuming their unforgiving pace.

He cherishes making love to you so much more than having this resolute goal of destroying your body. But he's enjoying working off his pent-up frustration.

He also prefers having you all to himself. But something in the bond you all share makes sharing you feel like the most natural thing in the world.

Sylus has already clued Zayne and Rafayel in. Zayne is straight-up rushing over. Raf busts into the room now, jumping to your free side and overwhelming your cheek with kisses.

“Hey there, cutie,” he says, his radiant smile lighting his features and melting your heart.

His gaze drifts to Xavier’s pistoning cock, with a small, heated breath of, “Oh.” He teases your clit and Xavier's shaft with gentle fingers, lust clouding his face.

“Are they making you feel good?” he murmurs, watching Sylus fuck your mouth as you choke and nod, his fingers circling faster.

“Yeah? Just wait. I’ll make you feel so much better than they are,” he promises.

“Eyes on me now, sweetie,” Sylus commands, tugging your hair to angle your face. 

“You’ll take it all like a good girl,” he commands, fucking your throat so deep you lose the ability to breathe.

Rafayel’s mouth sucks and bites your breasts, teasing your nipples and palming your clit while his fingers play with Xavier, whose ruining your cunt, murmuring about how “You’re taking them so well” and telling Raf not to stop.

Sylus stills, cock throbbing as he releases so much cum you can barely get it down. Xavier’s warmth fills you next, and you tumble over with him, crying out around Sylus as pleasure rolls through you.

You’re so blissed-out you barely register being scooped up and carried to the pull-out sofa as Rafayel states he needs more room. He lowers you onto him, entering you gently, but the way he grips your thighs when he bottoms out is anything but.

He leans back and gets comfy, a teasing grin on his face as he commands, “Make me feel good first, princess. I’ll reward you after.”

He makes no move to help you; he just smiles and praises you while you bounce on his cock, dazed and trying to stay up on shaky legs.

You bury your face against him, switching to a slow grind, whining, “You feel so good, baby.” He groans, flipping you on your stomach instead and lifting your ass high, delivering gentle slaps that contradict his unforgiving pace. It only lasts a minute, though, as it slows at Zayne’s presence.

Zayne’s voice overwhelms your senses, murmuring, “Hello, beautiful.” He helps you prop up on the back of the sofa, kneeling so he can kiss you. He strokes your cheek, his eyes searching yours tenderly.

“I’m glad you’re back,” he says with a small smile.

“Zayniee!” you say dreamily. “Wanna taste you sooo bad,” you whine, earning a gentle laugh.

“I can arrange that,” he says, undoing his belt slowly. You open wide, moaning in pleasure as he pushes in.

His touch is gentler than the others—light squeezes of your breasts, fingertips tracing shapes on your back as his hips move slowly.

He grips your ass, helping you move against Rafayel, telling you how perfect you are.

Xavier settles next to you, rubbing your clit to Rafayel’s pace, while Sylus sits close, a glass of wine in hand. “You’re excelling in your penance, kitten,” he praises teasingly.

“Gonna paint you white, now, cutie,” Raf mumbles, his thrusts getting sloppy before his essence fills you up.

Zayne takes his place instantly, spooning you as his cock borderline rips you open.

Sylus isn’t the only one who leveled up in this life.

He holds you close for a while, just resting against your head while lightly gripping your throat, thumb rubbing to a soothing rhythm.

“I’ve prayed so many times for the spell to break,” he admits, agony filling his voice. “I was beginning to lose hope, but—” his hips begin to pump, and every touch is an attempt to reassure him that you’re truly here.

You cum around him again and again, the couch getting filthy as he turns you into an overstimulated, whimpering mess.

Sylus teases your breasts while Rafayel and Xavier sit close.

Your poor pussy is ruined, and you’re barely conscious, dazed by the pleasure they’re giving you.

This doesn’t seem to be ending anytime soon since Zayne murmurs, “Just one more time, my love.”

[starlost-mochi-x]

chrome nails - hwang hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader

summary: hyunjin lets you do his nails

genre: fluff, idol! au, comfort, i know nothing about doing nails btw, crack at the end

a/n: hyunjin, just one chance, let me do your nails PLEASEEE

"Hyunjin, stay still-"

"I'm trying..."

You sigh and readjust yourself on the floorboards, trying not to jolt Hyunjin's slender, pretty hand, which is currently covered in several tiny smears of nail polish around his cuticles. He's whining as you tell him to stay still, and you fight a smile at the lilting, childlike tone in his voice.

Lifting the brush applicator, you carefully paint three, neat, dark strokes down his middle finger nail, working until you reach his pinky finger. Guiding his hand to the mini UV light you gifted for his birthday, you move to his other hand, before recapping the little glass bottle.

"What do you want drawn on them?"

Hyunjin smiles softly, his previous tantrum simmering down. "Anything you want. But it has to look super cool. I want Stay to see it."

You grin and get up, moving to the vanity, where you pull out a small case and return to Hyunjin's side. He's busy curing his other hand now, and he watches intently with a small smirk as you open the case. You pull out a tiny nail art brush, a bottle of silver chrome polish, and several metallic eyeshadows. You set them down in an orderly line and Hyunjin immediately moves to cheekily mess it up, rearranging the bottles and eyeshadows, the disorder now matching the rest of the room and the floor around you both.

There's a mess of different nail polish shades and tools scattering the floorboards, and you and Hyunjin half-lie down in the mess, limbs awkwardly positioned to avoid knocking anything over.

You carefully pull out his hand from the UV curer light and inspect each nail, gingerly tapping each one to check if the polish is dried. His nails are now a deep, solid black, the surface smooth and unmarred, and you smile in satisfaction at the neatness. His other hand's nails are just as perfect.

Picking up the chrome polish and thin brush, you detail tiny, Y2K style waves and lines over every second nail, leaving his thumbs. Hyunjin watches with an amused smile on his face as you meticulously refine each stroke with the tool, hand close to shaking with how focused you are. The room is quiet and silent, save for Hyunjin's slight shuffling as he waits for you to finish. You move to his other hand while he cures the first.

While he waits for his second hand to dry, you pick up one of your unused makeup brushes and brush a silvery eyeshadow from the top of each nail, creating an ombre effect on every other nail. You do a little for his thumb, leaving majority of the dark nail for the design you have in mind.

Brushing away the excess, you move to his other hand, and Hyunjin lets out a little 'ooh', apparently pleased with the style.

Smiling once more, you pick up the chrome and draw a tiny, silvery star on his thumbnails, writing 'STAY' in tiny, bold letters underneath. You detail the letters 'SKZ' on his middle fingers, curing them quickly before letting him inspect his digits. He kisses your forehead and tells you he loves them.

Later, both of you head to the JYP building, with Hyunjin saying that he needed to rerecord some of his lines for a song. As soon as he skips into the recording studio, he's excitedly shoving his nails into everyone's faces, wanting his members to see his new set, designed and created by you. Han lets out an enraged shriek, questioning why you're not on the stylist team, and you flush at the praise. Chan nods approvingly (though you suspect it's only because of the black element) and Felix and Changbin crowd around Hyunjin, fighting to see the chrome detailing, the smooth black polish, and the silvery stars and lettering that spell out 'SKZ' and 'STAY'.

You catch Minho's eyes, his eyebrows raised, and you grin just as you hold up your hands, where your nails are decorated the exact same.

a/n: every day i try to be loyal to chan and every day i fail (i'm sorry channie i still love you)

[erika-xero]

Thoughts on ai and Art

What has Ai really changed for me is the perception of my own art. Years back, I was extremely concerned of my work being imperfect: everything had to look "right", the anatomy had to be flawless, the lines - clean and refined. The pipe-line had to be flawless too: minimal amount of layers, one - for lines, one - for colors, and a few for lighting/shading.

Meanwhile I was yearning for chaos and the standard pipe-line felt too strict, too limiting. I finished the drawing and cried over the imperfections, but I could not let myself create a new layer and just paint it all over as I wanted to - that would "mess up my perfect psd". This was even harder because I started as a traditional artist and traditional art is basically the same as drawing on one layer or stacking the layers on top of each other whenever you wish to change anything. I was so obsessed with the anatomy/perspective looking right that my works started looking boring and stiff. If I was not sure that I would be able to draw a certain body part at a certain angle ANATOMICALLY PERFECT - I just refused to draw it at all. Drawing back then was HARD. I forced too much limitations upon myself, I was so scared of making any mistakes and thus did everything I could to avoid the risk to fail. It felts like an entire world would see me failing and everyone - literally everyone - will disapprove. And don't get me wrong - the art community in my country has always been astonishingly toxic. We had, like, a group of 20 THOUSANDS individuals hunting down children online and bullying them into oblivion for drawing anime and furry characters in their school textbooks. And pretty much everyone except a small group of people (which I was a part of) thought that it's absolutely fine and this is how the things should be. Even the industry professionals were absolutely sure that young artists have to suffer and be ashamed of everything they do unless it is absolutely flawless at an any aspect. I was ashamed of everything I did back then. I was ashamed of drawing and posting sketches because I felt like they are not good enough to be shown to anyone. And then the Ai-boom started. And I had mixed feelings because I was not THAT scared, but I was somewhat disappointed of people? General public praised the generated slop ignoring the mistakes far worse than what real artists got bullied for for DECADES. The synthetic artworks are shiny. They are overrendered. They are liveless, boring, they lack fundamentals and yet somehow people viewed them as some kind of a miracle. I decided to learn how does those little machines generated their slop out of morbid curiosity, just to make sure that I got it right and it is spitting out cadavers created from mutilated, dismembered works of real artists. Used by people who did not care enough to pick up a bloody pencils. And I thought: why would I care enough to look at something that no one bothered to create? And then I started seeing everything I do completely different. I suddenly stopped caring of being perfect. Every piece I have ever done, every work I was crying over for it being ugly, every messy sketch and unfinished doodle suddenly started to matter a lot. Not that I stopped caring of doing my best, no. I stopped wishing to disown my own mistakes. They are my own. I cared enough to try and fail and to try again, and fail so badly that I wanted to cry, scream and throw up. And I repeated the cycle for long enough that I started to enjoy my silly doodles and started loving every tiny imperfection because this is what made my art so human. I still suck at drawing hands and feet. My line-art is messy and I started doing it right on top of my colored sketch. My pipe-line is in chaos and my PSDs look like a total mess of three hundreds of layers. I draw sketches with huge-ass round brush only adding the details that really matters. My works are better than they could ever be because they feel alive and chaotic as we human had always been. This is a love letter to my art and write it while flipping off my middle finger to the cadavers generated by the machine. I will not be stopped by glorified autocomplete and I refuse to be outdone by people who confuse googling an image with the act of creation.

My worst drawing is better than any of the generative imagery out there, because I cared drawing it.

[momokarp]

hi I love your sketchbook art sm! your lines look kinda messy in the best way possible and i rlly wanna achieve that same look!! also i wanted to ask, do you sketch everything out in pencil beforehand or just go directly in with the pens?

Thank you! I used to hate how not clean my stuff looked compared to other’s stuff but I eventually came to really like messy inky things! Makes me feel better about my mistakes and it stops me from being a perfectionist.

As for my process I do both!! I’ll either go straight in with pens, or sketch first in pencil- OR if you want it to look messy but also kinda sick?? Do your under drawings in a super light pen/marker (like yellow or blue or gray) and then lineart on top. Maybe make that color you use something to add to shading later on. I’ve also done under drawings with dried out pens before to get a gritty texture, if you have any dying pens, they can still be put to use!

I just broke into a new sketchbook so I labeled what I did what with for these Needles Concepts. Fineliner pens can get you consistent line weight but BRUSH PENS can be thin or thick or flex to get some nice line variations. There’s soft brush pens and harder ones too if you’re worried about control.

The stuff where I went pencil first and then pen is FAR neater in general, and I can plan more. It’s pretty difficult to go just straight pen but I encourage you try it out a few times. It makes you plan and think about posing and proportion all in your head but boy it can be fun!

[bigtedbear]

“ 𝐦𝐫. 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐥𝐲 “

𝐩𝐫𝗼𝗺𝐩𝐭: 𝐰𝗼𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝗼𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐭𝗺! 𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝗼𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬?

content warning: 18+ NSFW, 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, trans male character, amab reader, male reader, oral sex (scar receiving), vaginal penetration, gentle vanilla sex, first times, misunderstood feelings, semi-drunk sex/drunk sex, a lot of confused flirting and banter, lots of kisses, lots of reassurance, unsafe sex (keep it in your pocket if you can't wrap up your rocket), this is pure fluffy vanilla sex and a little bit self-indulgent, as mentioned this is amab reader there is specific mentions of cock

" welcome back caller 🪷! connecting your line as we speak! "

" new contact noted! caller scar has been added to your phonebook - love, 𝑜𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑎𝑡𝑜𝑟 𝑡-19 “

"I mean, I understand why you would, with the inn prices being so high, but really?"

His fingers drummed on the market stand in front of him. Eyes wandering, he gave a slight shrug. "It's not as if I have any other options, do I? I can't exactly make a house appear out of thin air." Despite what should've been desolate words, the smirk written all over his face added a playful lilt to his speech.

Your face was tinted a cute pink, but it wasn't because of him. It was a sun-kissed hue tanned into the flesh of your cheek from the humidity. Still, he felt proud of himself when a polite laugh ripped through the heatwaves beating down on the both of you. "Well, still, camping might be fun for some people but you look like you're going to sweat your hide off. Are you sure you don't want some money to stay at a room with some kind of air conditioning or something?"

He looked down at his clothes, "Do I really look that bad? I'll have you know I'm quite comfortable." He did a playful twirl. You took note of the dreamy and far off nature buried in the depths of his pupils.

Another chirp of laughter passing your lips, "Yeah, sure you are. Your forehead is caked in sweat." You turned around, heading to the back of your small shaded booth before plucking a small beige satchel of coins out. You turned around again, just to find his fingers drumming on the table while his eyes darted just about everywhere but your humble shop's offerings. "Take it, tonight's on me."

Just as quickly as you slid it across the table, the bag was pushed back into your retreating palm. "No need, I'm not exactly what anyone would call... delicate."

Your own smile tugged at your lips as you shoved the bag of shells back across the table. There was a devious glint in your eyes as you quipped back to him, "No need to play coy, I'm not after anything." Your fingers brushed up against the back of his hand. "That is, unless you want me to be."

This time, it was his turn to chuckle. He only seemed further motivated by the challenge, smirk opening up his cheeks. The scarred tissue on his face uncomfortably hindered one side of his face, causing a more lopsided grin. Even if it was one caused by pain, the smile was endearing. It was imperfectly beautiful, uneven but genuine.

"I'm not strapped for cash," His eyes flashed a dangerous mischief, "-but I wouldn't be surprised if you were. You seem all too eager to hand off your money to any pretty traveler passing through town."

To this, your lips opened, closed, and then opened again. "I don't remember calling you pretty, but I can't say I disagree with that either." You still insistently held the bag firmly against his palm, gently wrapping his hand around the drawstrings of the bag with your fingers, "That being said, consider it some... local hospitality. Nobody in the village wants anyone to go to sleep cold or hot or uncomfortable. We're all just trying to make a living, even if we don't agree with each other all the time."

His own eyes widened slightly, but he didn't stutter or seem taken aback by the sudden sincerity in your tone. "I don't see why you'd help me, I can see you're barely keeping food on your own table."

You averted your eyes sheepishly, "That may be true, but I don't have trouble keeping a roof over my head." Your former smile transformed into a sort of grimace, "I know I really shouldn't be telling visitors this if we want to keep having any travelers stop in, but..." You took in a deep breath, "There's this Tacet Field that opened up nearby, and I- I don't think I'd be able to live with myself if you--or really anyone--got ambushed because you couldn't afford a room."

You shook your head and urgently pressed the bag into his hands, "So, just for my peace of mind, go ahead and just take this and get yourself a comfy bed to sleep in." You offered him a sincere smile, withdrawing your own hands, "I swear on it, Miss Chunhua makes the best breakfast if you have enough time for it."

He hummed, pretending to consider it for a moment.

Of course, he was already intrigued you knew of a Tacet Field popping up before any of the Midnight Rangers could make the time to come and investigate it themselves. But, he was more concerned with your show of completely selfless kindness. The amount of shells in the bag would be more than enough for a room at the inn, enough for a couple at the very least. If anything, he wondered why you had this amount just casually set aside in a bag.

"As touched as I am by your kindness, I don't need it." He dropped the bag down onto the counter with one hand. The other grabbed at the food he'd bought from you. "I'm more than strong enough to handle a few tacet discords. You don't need to worry your little head off about anyone like me."

You immediately protested, "If it's about the money, it really isn't that-"

You were cut off with another of his sweet laughs. "No, it isn't about the money. As touched as I am that you want me to sleep safely, I'm here to investigate the Tacet Field myself up close." He held a finger to his lips, "Don't tell anyone though, alright?"

Your eyes widened in protest, "What do you mean you're investigating it? That's-" You promptly shut your mouth. "With your confidence, I know you probably have some kind of Tacet Mark, but it's really not safe. Those things- they're-"

He shook his head again, lopsided grin only getting bigger. He held his pinky out, "Would a promise make you feel any better?"

Your frown only deepened, "Look, I know you think your Tacet Mark will keep you safe but I have a Tacet Mark. They're more than dangerous, they're larger and more aggressive than they usually are. They look like they're just about to rip anyone that gets close enough to shreds."

He shrugged, "I've seen worse."

"Somehow, I believe you," You remarked dismally, "But you should trust me on this. My farm is right on the outskirts of town and I've gotten front row seats trying to subdue those things. They're practically in my backyard all day." Your face contorted into one of mild discomfort, "Just take the money, if you want to be able to look at the Tacet Field up close, I'll let you use my farm. Does that work?"

He put a weighty finger on his chin, crossing his other arm across his chest. He snapped his finger, as if he came to a realization. "What if I camp out on your farm? That way, you can see that I'm still in one piece."

Your jaw tensed for a moment, seeming to think it over. It didn't help your conscious that he seemed to naively sure of himself. You didn't know if the nasty full-length scar on the side of his face was any indicator of his skill or any fights he'd actually been in. Perhaps it'd been some freak accident during childhood? You took in a deep breath. "How about you pay a fraction of the price you would for the inn and just rent a room in my house? I have one facing the back, it's got the perfect view of the Tacet Field."

He tapped his chin a couple of times before finally seeming to agree that would be the best outcome. He finally nodded. "It's the best of both worlds, I don't see why not."

You breathed a quick sigh of relief, finally letting the tension in your shoulders relax. "Oh thank god."

Your face flushed an embarrassed crimson when the sound of his boisterous laughter met your ears, dying out just as quickly as it emerged. He offered you his hand, one you took in your own.

"Scar, pleasure doing business with you."

"You're back!"

Scar couldn't deny the sweet squeeze your tone of affection had on his heart. Of course, he couldn't exactly let it be known either. The quaint grin that always seemed to be there was all that greeted you. "I'm surprised you remember me."

You tilted your head at him curiously, your own warm grin still on your face. "Well, it isn't every day we get tourists. It also isn't every day that those tourists show up wearing bright red."

He was pleasantly surprised that you didn't mention the brutal injury that marred a majority of his face. Usually, when people brought up his rather... distinctive appearance, that was their go-to. "It's been a while though, hasn't it? Your village probably had more than enough foot traffic to forget about me."

You hummed, putting together the same thing he bought from your humble little stand last time. "Maybe, but they haven't been anywhere near as memorable." You turned around with the little satchel of treats. "You've got this way about you, y'know? It's hard to find in anyone else."

"Hard to find in anyone else... you say that like you've already found it again. Don't tell me you've managed to replace me already?" It was obvious that he took joy in the momentary conundrum that flashed across your expression.

"You're twisting my words!" You countered, pointing a jokingly accusatory finger at him. "You're hard to forget, especially cause you're one of the only people that's actually made the effort to strike up talk past polite conversation." Still, you gave an exaggerated sigh as you approached the front counter again, lamenting, "It'd help if you managed to say more than a few words without squeezing a few jabs in."

His smile widened to showcase his teeth, the small twinge of pain as the scar tissue strained against his joyful motion brought a small pool of pity into your own irises. It wasn't one that Scar missed either. Instead of bringing it up, he shrugged, "Life's too short to not cause some mischief, right? I'd be way too bored if I didn't at least poke some buttons."

You hummed, crossing your arms thoughtfully. You shrugged before sticking your tongue out at him, "Still, I won't forget anytime soon." You laid the little beige box on the table. "I'll have to get back at you somehow, I just have to wait for the right chance to do it."

Scar clicked his tongue in response, "Well, it seems you'll have to wait some time before that can happen."

You raised an eyebrow, "Well, I mean, you're here now, aren't you?" Your eyes softened, "If you need a place to stay tonight, you can set up camp in my house again--free of charge this time."

He shook his head, "No need, I'm just making a quick stop in." Precisely why he was confused he was even at your shop in the first place.

You nodded, "Well, just remember you're free to crash at mine anytime."

He chortled quietly before quipping, "What, are you that lonely?"

Your face flushed a familiar pink, opening and closing your mouth like a fish. You finally settled on snatching your box back into your arms. "You're awful!"

He laughed, louder, unabashedly.

You shook your head, "You're just a good roommate is all." You sauntered off towards the back of the booth again, locking up your safe. "You didn't stay out too late, you didn't make much noise at night, and you put up with my god-awful cooking."

He shrugged, "You're being pretty harsh on yourself, I remember it being pretty good."

You looked at him suspiciously, "Just because you're a worse cook doesn't mean I'm some kind of chef."

"Hey!"

It was your turn to laugh at him this time, swinging your keys around your finger. "You know what, you're right. Picking at you is pretty fun, I'll have to remember to do it more often."

He shook his head, though, it was clear there was no real disappointment behind it. "I'm a terrible influence."

You hummed, pushing open the small turn-style door to your booth. "I wouldn't say that. I just think you're a... unique influence. I don't really have many people my age to talk to."

He put his hands on his hips, "That's basically just another way to call me a bad influence. Plus, the fact that you don't have any other influences doesn't make me a good one."

You handed him the small, cutely wrapped box with one hand, "Yeah, but it does mean you don't have much competition." You pointed towards the small home at the end of the road, a building Scar remembered to be the inn with your other hand. "Say, let's go eat at Aunty Chunhua's."

He held the package close to his chest with a curious tilt of the head. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

Instead of freezing up in embarrassment this time, you put your hands on your hips. "Only if you want it to be." You pushed him away from your stall excitedly, "To be honest, Chunhua made a batch of some of the best soup ever this morning and I've been catching a whiff of it for the past hour or so. It's making me really hungry."

His face caught a surge of heat, transitioning from a light pink caused by the weather to a deeper magenta. "So if I wanted it to be a date, it could be?"

You nodded, playing along with his joke. "Totally, I'll even give you some freebies if you agree to split the bill with me."

He snickered, "So you're only asking me cause you couldn't afford to get a bowl on your own?"

Your head bobbed up and down shamelessly, "Precisely," You threw a casual arm over his shoulders, "As much as I love her, Aunt Chunhua's prices are way too high for a humble farmer for me." Beginning to tug him along, "But with a handsome, rich stranger by my side I can have all the soup I want! So hurry up, I'm only getting hungrier!"

He breathed in slowly, "Handsome?"

"Yes, very handsome." Your eyes didn't divert from the source of the delicious smell wafting through the air as your mouth opened, "Your eyes are pretty, and your smile is easy on the eyes. Your face is really symmetrical even with the scar on half of it." You paused for a moment, "Speaking of which, I don't get why the other people in the village say you look scary, a scar is just another type of skin, right?"

He seemed to trail off into thought for a moment, "Hm, I guess it is."

The life of a Fractcidus overseer was not an easy one.

That fact should've been obvious to just about anyone that thought about it for a few minutes. It became even more obvious when you lived the life yourself.

It was all the more reason an overseer kept the people close to them at arms length. When you were constantly in danger, it meant anyone you associated with would also be in danger. There was no telling what kinds of hostile entities could get the bright idea to use a loved one as some kind of bargaining chip. Would Scar be willing to sacrifice that chip for the goals of the organization?

When it came to you, he didn't know.

You were this pure, unadulterated light. Sweet, untouched by the filth of the world. As a humble rice farmer in a rural village, he doubted you even knew the Fractcidus existed. Of course, you still knew what Tacet Fields were, you knew what Tacet Discords were, hell you had a Tacet Mark. You were strong and proud, never arrogant or unnecessary with your strengths.

But unlike Scar, you were completely selfless in your use of your abilities. Would you still look at him the same if you knew the depths of his soul? Would you peel back his burnt, horrid flesh, look at the demons in his heart and still accept him? Would you ever end of agreeing with his vision of the world?

He didn't know, nor did he care to find out.

For your sake and his, the question was better left unanswered.

He would keep his distance, he decided. He wouldn't ask the question, he wouldn't hear the answer. He felt a little unfair, plucking the decision from you entirely, but what choice did he have? If you decided to give the Fractcidus the time of day, your little life tucked away in your fields would grind to a strict halt.

There was no guarantee you would have a roof over your head in the night, no guarantee you would come home safe. Your booth at the town market would be left unattended every Sunday morning, you wouldn't be there to fend off the stray Tacet Discords that came in close enough to the village to actually threaten civilian life.

Even if he would be selfish in just about every other aspect of his life, something about your inherent lack of an ability to put yourself first inspired him to finally step up to the plate and put you first instead.

After his last visit, he knew he couldn't deny the brewing butterflies fluttering across the recesses of his ribcage. He couldn't stop the flush from spreading all over his face when he talked to you. He couldn't even really hold a real conversation without hinting at his feelings in one way or another, but besides his own feelings there were yours.

Even if you could get past his criminal pass times, would you be able to get past the fact that he didn't have the same parts as any other man?

He couldn't describe it, the way your own desires and proverbial thoughts intermingled with his own.

Alongside his own inner monologue, there was suddenly, a second voice. "The voice of reason", he called it. It argued for your needs and wants. You needed shelter, you needed safety. You might've wanted to be in a relationship with him, you might've wanted to see him more often, but giving you those would completely override your needs. Besides, he couldn't even guarantee that was what you wanted. Maybe, you wanted to be in a relationship with someone who could settle down with you. You might want someone who was born a man. So, since he couldn't be what you wanted or what you needed, so he removed himself from the equation entirely.

Or at least, he tried to.

Deep down, he was still selfish. He felt awful when he realized he couldn't completely put your safety first. The guilt churning in his gut only got worse when he realized you wouldn't have been able to bring yourself to blame him; not when he showed up to your door looking as pitiful as he did.

Caked in mud, soaking wet and frowning like a poor stray left out in the rain. Storm raging outside from every angle, thunder, lightning, torrential rain that made it difficult to hear your own thoughts. Blinded by the dark, at risk of running into any manner of Tacet Discords with the nearby Tacet Field.

"What the actual hell are you doing outside?" You demanded to know, ushering him inside. One second, you disappeared into the depths of your home, skittering down the stairs with a warm, dry towel being unceremoniously dropped on his head.

He didn't answer, letting you towel the muck and wetness out of his usually unruly white hair.

"Have you eaten yet?" You questioned him, throwing a stack of your own sleeping clothes at him. You ran around like a headless chicken, trying to get him comfortable.

More guilt dripped and dropped onto his shoulders like a leaking faucet as he stared at your dumbfounded face when he choked out his answer in the negative.

He couldn't help the sweet mix of fondness in his stomach the longer you fussed over him. Scolding him for not taking proper care of himself, poking him in the chest and telling him he was far too careless of his own health.

He couldn't stop the lopsided smile that snuck up on him when you pushed him into the same bedroom you'd provided him the last time he stayed in your home. Nor could he help himself when you yelled through the door that you were still making dinner so you had enough time to throw in some extra ingredients to accommodate a few extra portions.

'Just one more time,' He conceded, one more time he would let you take care of him.

'This will be the last time', he promised. Who he promised it to? He couldn't make up his mind. He didn't know if it was to you, the unknowing victim, or to himself.

"What's all this?"

You noticed pretty quickly, Scar had a habit of nervous fidgeting. Scratch that, not exactly nervous fidgeting but more bored fidgeting. When he wasn't doing anything, he would be bouncing his leg or drumming his fingers on whatever surface was available.

You set down the rather large bottle on the table, cracking open the top of it without a second thought. "It's some cider I've been aging. I wasn't really sure when I'd have the opportunity to share it with someone."

You didn't notice his smile falter as you turned around to go retrieve your wine glasses from a cabinet. When you returned to the table, his expression was the same as it always was. You settled yourself at the seat across from him at your little round table. "I don't really see what's all that special about me being here, I'll be gone in the morning when the storm's passed."

You nodded, "I mean, it makes sense that you're confused since you live a life of intrigue." You flicked the cork of the bottle off. "I'm alone a lot of the time here. Sometimes I'll stop into Miss Chunhua's to cough up what little money I can scrounge together, maybe sometimes I'll get courted by some lady from another village, but I don't have many meaningful friendships."

His brow twitched, but you didn't catch much of a shift in his face otherwise. "I catch your drift."

You chuckled, hand coming to rest on the sweet-smelling bottle of liquor, "Lighten up! I'm breaking out the alcohol as a part of a celebration that you're back!" You poured yourself about half a glass, pushing the bottle towards him afterwards, "I might live a lonely life, but it only makes every time you stop by more special."

He wondered, would you still look at him so fondly if you knew he would lead you to your pitiful end?

Even then, he couldn't bring himself to rain even harder on your parade. He took the large green jug in his hand before pouring himself a similar portion. He did his best to smile, to act joyful so that you would smile too.

But, you noticed the difference immediately. The fake versus the real. When he smiled genuinely, one side of his face would lift more than the other, a result of the drastic scarring. But, when he was pretending, it seemed like he ignored his own pain in favor of trying to look as natural as possible. Both sides of his face remained even.

"...Are you alright?"

The question caused the grin to vanish off his cheeks entirely, eyes raising to meet your own. He hated the fact that they were downturned, the clear worry scribbled all over your face. He made a crude attempt at reassuring you, the same practiced smile carving it's way onto his expression yet again. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"

You didn't even try to hide the fact you were still worried. "Scar..."

A jolt of panic elevated his heart rate, tilting his head to the side. "Aw, are you worried about me? I'm totally fine," As a little last ditch effort, he quickly tacked on, "...maybe a little frazzled from the rain, but I'm okay."

Your eyes narrowed, creases inlaying themselves on your forehead. "You know you can tell me just about anything right? I-" You paused, "I might not be the smartest, I don't have some fancy education and I've never been to the capital, but I can do my best to try to understand."

His eyes widened, expression falling flat. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to write it off. "Hey, don't write yourself off, you're a lot smarter than half my coworkers." He attempted to crack a joke, but it was obvious it fell short when you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

"That still doesn't answer my question." Even when you were trying to be stern with him, you still didn't seem to have a strong enough spine to truly be mean. "You know you can tell me anything, right? I'm not some little porcelain doll that'll break if you say the wrong thing. I'm a grown man."

"Well, of course I know that." He paused, thinking over his words carefully, "It's just that I can't tell you."

You perked up in your chair, tilting your head to the side. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He let out a breathy laugh, "It's nothing against you, it's just... work-related?" Technically, it was the truth. He reasoned that it would be alright to say that much as long as he didn't really let much else slip. "I know you probably think it'd be alright for me to talk about it since you wouldn't know anything about the organization besides what I tell you, but it's confidential."

There was a pause while he waited for your response.

He let the tension fall from his shoulders when you reached for your wine glass, "I get it, rather be safe than sorry kind of situation, right?"

His head shook up and down a little bit too quickly for your liking, "Exactly like that actually."

You motioned with your glass to his own. "Wanna toast? Just to getting away from your problems for a little bit. I'm assuming your employer can't really reach you during a storm as bad as this on a little farm out in the middle of nowhere."

This time, his smile was as lopsided as you remembered. He scooped up his own glass and brought it to meet your own with a little 'Clink!'

He relaxed a little bit as he watched the concern melt off of your face. You took a swig of the cider, watching him take a sip as well. It was sweet, with a little tang underneath it. It was a standard fruit-infused cider. Still, to make some polite conversation he found himself asking, "What'd you make this with?"

You set your glass down. You instead brought the bottle to your face, swishing around the liquid to see if you could find any identifiers. "I can't remember if this was the tropfruit batch or the gemberry batch..."

Scar took another taste, "I'd make a bet on it being tropfruit."

You hummed, "Yeah, that sounds right."

"Do you want to take this any further?"

Scar took a moment to respond, still catching his breath from a kiss that was just a little bit to passionate to really be dismissed as anything but an invitation. He cursed himself internally for letting the alcohol cloud his judgement enough to let things go this far.

Even though everything in his mind screamed for him to stop things where they were, his grip on your shoulders was just as tight as before. His chest was still pressed against yours, his back was still leaned against the counter.

His glass of liquor remained on the tabletop just a few short feet away from where the two of you had semi-melted together into a tangle of limbs.

It'd started out innocent at first, he was teasing you like he always did. He couldn't remember when it'd gotten physical, the only real memory having been wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

It'd only really taken off from there, soon enough, you were hovering over him and his lower back was getting sore from the sharp countertop bleeding a line into it.

"I-" he paused. "It wouldn't be smart for me to let this go on for any longer." It was the continuation of that thought that would've really broken you heart. '-lest you find out he wasn't the man you thought he was.'

Even though he was the one to say no, he couldn't help the sinking feeling in his gut when you nodded at him. There was a deep regret coursing through his veins as you pulled away, going back to washing the dishes. He only felt worse when the selfish little part of his brain got frustrated when you tried to just pick up the conversation where it'd left off.

"You're heading out tomorrow morning, right? Where are you headed to?"

"You're drunk and you've already told me no tonight, 'm not going to take advantage of you."

Even in your insistence, Scar could feel your resolve melting when confronted with the alcohol running through your own system. The longer he pressed, the sloppier your words got. Every passing minute, it seemed a little bit more of your willpower seemed to slip past your fingertips like sand.

Like the sweet tendrils of temptation, he connected his lips to your jaw again, like a sweet promise. Even as he pulled away, he could smell the sickeningly sweet odor of the liquor left behind like a tattoo on your unblemished skin.

"What? Haven't gotten this close to anyone before?" He teased, shifting against you on the loveseat in your living room. He'd been sitting next to you previously, taking your drinks to the den so you two could properly relax before bed. Now, he writhed on your lap, straddling your hips.

Your eyes were bleary with intoxication, still trained on him as your eyelids drooped like a weeping willow. Your teeth were grit together, your hands on his waist as you tried to gently coax him off of you. "That's besides the point-" You were cut off by your own voice, grunting when he took the chance to bite down on the sensitive skin of your collar.

He snickered, grinding himself down onto your thigh, "No wonder you're so nervous."

This time, you truly made the effort to get him off of you, a sense of urgency in the way you called his name. "You need to stop and let yourself sleep this off." Your hands moved to be against his chest, trying your best not to hurt him when you moved to push him off of you. "I like you too much for you to sleep with me, regret it, and never come back again."

He cocked his head to the side, eyes finally meeting yours as he asked. "What if I don't regret it? Did you consider that?"

You blinked a few times, still sort-of out of it and under the influence. "I would've considered it if you didn't tell me you were uncomfortable earlier." You pushed against him gently. It wasn't strong enough to be classified a shove, just consistent pressure to keep his inebriated body from leaning up against yours. "Sso, go to bed. If you really want to do anything like this, you'll wait until you're sober to talk t'me about this."

He huffed, both understanding and impatient. His hands rested on your shoulders, moving from exploring the expanses of your torso. "Did you consider why I told you to stop?"

Your eyes shut in an attempt to make the room stop spinning for a moment. "No, 'course I didn't." While your sense of chivalry kept him from resting on you, your head rolled to the side to let your cheek rest on one of his hands on your shoulder. "You told me no, I did what anyone worth their salt was 'sposed to do. You didn't need a reason to say no."

He sighed, just barely twisting his wrist around to cradle your face. He brushed his thumb against your skin, his own eyelids starting to feel like they were solidifying into lead. "You're really dense, y'know."

Your eyebrows came down your forehead, furrowing to a point, "Who're you calling dense? You're the dense one, You- You-"

He cut off any and all trains of coherent thought when he pressed a seemingly innocent kiss to your lips. In your drunken mess, you chased after him when he pulled away. "You didn't think I had a thing for you, too?"

Your eyes blinked open at him, expression still a little tense. "Hm?"

He laid his forehead against yours, voice lowered to that of a whisper, "I stay away cause I like you. I don't want you to be in trouble cause you hang around me."

Immediately you were up in arms about his assertion, "That doesn't make any sense."

He hummed, "It might not make sense to you, but if you knew what I did, I feel like you would do the same thing."

He could feel the heavy breath that passed your lips. He could also feel your hands moving back down to his waist. You wrapped around him gingerly, tentatively. Even when you were too drunk to think straight, you cared so much about his comfort. "I'm not weak, 'm really strong. If someone came after me, I could handle it."

He chuckled, resting his head on your now free shoulder. "Yeah, but would you still like me if you knew I was the one that put you in trouble?" You nodded with a vigor against his own forehead. He combed his fingers through your hair, gently.

He let out a noise of contentment before drawing in another breath and holding it. "Even if I was trans?"

He could feel the way your eyes blinked in confusion, lashes tickling his forehead. "mm' so?"

"What do you mean?" He asked, forgetting how to breathe for a second.

Your hold on his hips got tighter as you pulled him in closer. "Why would that matter, at all?"

He pulled back from you, "You'd still have the hots for me? Even if I didn't have a dick?"

Your immaturity shone through as you chuckled at his crude language. You leaned back further into the plush of the sofa. "Yeah, why wouldn't I? I haven't really seen you naked before. I don't see why you'd think I'm only attracted to you for your body."

He could feel the revelation start to sober him up. His heart felt like it was beating a million miles a minute. He tripped over his words while he looked for the correct way to articulate his thoughts to a very drunk man, "W-Well, I mean yeah, but it's a deal breaker to some people. Not everyone is into that, y'know?"

Your eyes met his, the difference in your cognizance becoming obvious. While he was fully alert and at full attention, your eyes remained half-lidded and glazed with alcohol. "In all honesty, I don't know what I'm into. I don't have enough time to think about it." You gave his love handles an affectionate squeeze, "But when I do think about it, I think about you and how you make my heart feel all mushy."

He could feel his head start to spin as he tentatively asked again, "So you still feel the same way about me? You don't care that I don't have the same parts as a guy?"

You frowned, "What do you mean? You're still a guy, aren't you?" You put your head on his shoulder. "Your name is still Scar, I call you he and him and that's what you prefer, right? I don't really know all that much about it, but if you want me to call you a guy, then you'll always be the prettiest guy on the planet to me."

"..."

"..."

"..."

"...Scar?"

"Help me take my shirt off."

"You're sure you won't regret giving me your first time in the morning?"

Even if it sounded like he was teasing you, you could tell from the tremble in his legs that he meant it. You glided your fingers towards his waistband, tentatively waiting for the go-ahead. "Will you regret sleeping with me in the morning?"

He shook his head again, lifting his hips every so slightly so you could hook your finger under his pants and start the process of tugging them off. "Well, there's your answer." You pulled them down his thighs, getting them to his ankles before he helped kick them off the side of the bed. You gripped his thighs with one hand, the other motioning towards his boxers. "May I?"

There was the lopsided grin you loved so much. He gave a quick affirmation, nodding his head with a playful, "So polite." Despite his eased assurance, you could tell he was still nervous. You knew this would be your first time, but you wondered if this might be his.

Your hand came up to intertwine with his, sliding his boxers off with one hand as you dipped your face down to plant a saccharine kiss to his forehead. There was a pleasant shiver up his spine when he was fully exposed, completely naked and bare for you to see him in his entirety.

Still, even when confronted with the countless scars on his body, you dipped down to his torso to worship every bit of skin you could get your greedy lips on. He shook with an added fervor when you kissed at his top scars.

The tremors got even worse when you were finally situated between his legs. He bashfully averted eye contact when he could feel you looking at the parts of his body he was easily the most embarrassed of. It only got worse when he could feel the mattress shift when you laid all your weight on it.

He let out a shaky moan when you delicately planted a kiss on his folds. Sensitive, he was far too sensitive. Generally, you had an okay idea of what you were doing in theory. The real advantage here was your impossibly quick ability to learn exactly what made him tick.

Your touch was ticklish against his skin when you pushed his legs over your shoulders. He felt beyond vulnerable when he really was completely on display for your eyes to see and your featherlight touch to roam.

You licked between the lips tentatively and slowly, waiting to see which part your tongue ran over would make him squirm the most. You drank in the noises he made and the trembling of his thighs around your head when you parted him open with your fingers. You closed your eyes when you placed a kiss where you could only guess the clit was.

When you earned a quiet whine in return, you turned a majority of your attention to the spot. First, it was a lick, and then it turned into experimental sucking until the nub hardened under your attentive care. His fingers wrapped themselves in the tresses of your hair, pulling on your scalp with each and every sensation that coursed through his body.

Eventually, you set your sights just below the spot you'd been taking care of before. With a hesitant sense of uncertainty, you pressed your tongue flat against the opening. You were rewarded with a harsh yank and a breathless call of your name.

You withdrew your tongue to savor his taste before you delved back in again. You drew little circles around his slit before further pinning his lips open so you could truly go to town on him. You pushed your tongue inside of him slowly, a rush of pride rolling down your back with the sigh that emitted from his lips.

Subconsciously, he pushed his hips closer to your face. Your nose rested against his clit for a moment before you started to explore his insides. His walls twitched around your tongue in tandem with the twitching of his thighs flexing and unflexing around your head. Your movements were slow, noting and taking in each and every little reaction to each and every one of your delicate touches.

He got impatient, a needy whimper pulled from his throat when he ground his pelvis against your face. To accommodate him, you sped up quickly, trying to remember which spots to hit inside while you did so. The building heat only seemed to worsen when your fingers came up to his clit, brushing against it so gently with both your nose and pads of your fingertips.

You drew lazy little tight circles on the nub, savoring his taste on your tongue while he all but did his best to ride your face. Soon enough, your other hand was at his entrance just barely warming the skin on the inside of his thighs before they joined your tongue inside of him.

One finger to start with, slowly going in and out at the same pace as your tongue. Then a second joined. At this point, it was getting hard to keep his noises quiet. A louder moan broke the soft atmosphere when you started to scissor your fingers apart to stretch him open. You started to speed up your movement at the insistence of his own rocking hips against your face.

You let out a muffled groan when his legs clamped around your head. The vibrations sent him careening over the edge as his back arched up into a beautiful curve. He spasmed around your tongue, mouth open in a beautiful mewl as you did your best to nurse him through it.

You pulled away from him, lips stained with slick and a different drunken haze in your eyes. You smiled as you watched him catch his breath. You wiped his release off your hand on the comforter of your bed, moving up again to hold his hands. Both of you were panting, one from a lack of oxygen, the other to catch their breath while they were coming down from the clouds above.

You smiled wide at him, obviously very proud of your work. "How was it? I didn't disappoint, did I?"

He closed his eyes as an embarrassed flush washed over his face. Chest still heaving as he did his best to breathe, he muttered out a quick, "Virgin my ass."

You chuckled against his skin, kissing his cheek. "Do you want to keep going? We can call it a night from here."

He shook his head, "No, I'm still good to go as long as you are."

You nodded, "Would you want to keep going in this position or is there another one you have in mind that might be more comfortable for you?"

He seemed to think for a minute, finally settling on one of the thoughts flying around his head. "I guess I've got something in mind."

"Oh fuck- Right, Right there-"

You stroked his sides lovingly, angling yourself to hit the same spot over and over again. Though, it wasn't as though you had much say in it.

You gave a particularly loud grunt when Scar let himself sink the entire way down, his thighs all but giving out on him as he tried to keep on going. There was sweat dripping down his entire body as he tried to pick himself back up, but he realized pretty shortly after that there really was no hope for him.

From his position on top, he leaned down to get a sweet taste of your lips and the remnants of liquor from your tongue. Pleasant sensations racked his body as you picked up his hips with your hands and brought him back down. He moaned into the kiss, his hands scrunching up into fists against your own sweat stained chest. He pulled away shortly after, chest rising and falling rather quickly. Sweetly, he requested, "A little help?"

You nodded, just barely out of it. You hooked your arms underneath his knees, pushing him softly onto his back. He molded into a curve, all but drooling at the tingles that exploded all over from the sudden shift in position. If that wasn't enough, it seemed you pressed even harder into his cervix and his stomach when you hiked his legs up over your shoulders. You ground your pelvis into his for a short second, but if felt like ages with the aftershocks wreaking havoc on Scar's poor brain.

You pulled out just halfway before easing your way back in, basking in the warmth that was the soft groan passing from Scar's lips. You repeated the same motion again, leaning down just like your partner did to paint his shoulders in your little marks. With the mix of shy ecstasy coursing through his body and a taste of your mouth on his skin, it felt like Scar was high on some kind of newly invented drug.

You shifted a little before moving your hips again, pulling out just enough to leave only the tip of your dick inside before slamming in to the hilt. "Right there?"

His jaw dropped in a silent scream, clamping down on you extremely lewdly. His eyes fluttered shut as the noise trapped in his throat escaped in a shaky call of your name again. He nodded his head quickly upon finally registering your question. "Just like that- Ah fuck! That was absolutely perfect."

He waited in anticipation as the slow drag of your erection in his walls sent another wave of pleasure careening through his nervous system, all but toppled by the sudden crash of your pelvis against his ass again. He let out a groan, only complimented by the sounds of your lips suctioning to his collarbone.

You started to set your pace, just a little faster than he'd been while he'd been riding. It wasn't much, but it seemed to be just enough to edge him closer to the finish line. His intestines tied themselves into a knot all while it felt like you were boring a hole into his uterus.

Despite all his act for being a big bad overseer while he was on the job, while he was in your bed, in your arms with his knees pushed up to his shoulders, he turned into a soft-hearted crybaby. He could feel your pace pick up as you twitched inside of him. The caress of your dick inside of him only made the knot in his intestines get tighter as he struggled to breath properly.

Usually, he was quick with his retorts and quips. He could only listen as they were reduced to nothing but throaty whines of you name and begging for more, sweet noises that melded with the creaking and slamming of your headboard against the wall.

He held onto your shoulders in a death grip, palms pressed flat against your boiling hot skin right next to his own legs. His nails curled into your shoulder blades, leaving delectable little red lines in a sweet mark of ownership.

"Shit, shit-" He clamped down around you again, chest pressing further against yours when your fingers came to draw messy circles on his clit. Hiding his face under your chin, he couldn't help the string of curses that dripped past his lips like honey. "Ohouh Fuck~ Shit~ Ahahn~"

Tears that'd been brewing for the past half hour the two of you had tumbled around in the sheets started to flow down his cheeks. The onslaught of euphoria all over his body sent his mouth flying open as he finally spasmed around your cock, walls fluttering like a vice.

This time, it was your turn to swear as you did your best to fight against the suction of his slit. You pulled out just barely in time to cum on his stomach.

The two of you did your best to catch your breath as you unhooked his legs from your shoulders, basically collapsing next to him on the bed like a boulder. He couldn't help the urge to nuzzle himself up to your side, only further encouraged when you wrapped a lazy arm around him and pulled him in closer.

He hid his face against the sweaty skin of your stomach. He curled into a little ball, suddenly very aware of the air that the two of you had previously been warming up. Luckily, it seemed you had a built in radar for his needs. Quickly and silently coming to the rescue, you dropped one of your fluffier blankets on top of him.

He pulled it around his shoulders gratefully before going back to basking in the warmth of the skin on your tummy. You sleepily tousled his hair before finally sitting up with a grunt.

He perked up immediately, automatically a little upset that you were already going to leave. "Where are you going?"

You yawned, "I'm going to go fill up the bathtub. " You snickered at him before playfully flicking his forehead, "Did you think I was going to bed feeling like a sweat monster?"

"No welcome home?"

Automatically, your head shot up from where you were bent over checking in some of your droopier crops.

In front of you stood your boyfriend of a year in all of his bright-red glory. Just as quickly as you registered that he'd actually come home after being gone for a few weeks, your face brightened up.

No later than that, you were scrambling to your feet and breaking out into a sprint towards him. The dirt crunching under your feet and the crops you were running through be damned, the moment you reached him, your mud-caked arms were around his red uniform to lift him up into the air.

His usual boisterous laugh ripped through the air as the clouds behind his head swirled into some amalgam of white you couldn't be bothered with. "I didn't expect you home for another week!"

He nodded, planting a wet kiss on your cheek just to hear the same laughter rattle from your own chest. "I just couldn't wait to see you again." The same lovestruck puppy eyes were all he could see before suddenly he was attacked with a flurry of lips attached to every square inch of his face.

He let you lavish him in all your pent up love graciously, a satisfied purr rumbling in his throat. Soon enough, you planted a long, lingering kiss on his lips, wrapping him up snug in your arms. You rested your chin on top of his head, secretly amused with the way he leaned forward to accommodate you.

Life wasn't always easy for the two of you, especially since the two of you had a rather unconventional relationship, but life was sweet.

He usually left for long periods of time on missions, he also did his best to stay away right after missions for fear of accidentally leading someone with less than pure intentions to your home. But every moment he had some time off to spend with you, he made the most of it.

By now, he'd also already told you of his mission with the Fractcidus. While you certainly didn't approve, you also conceded you didn't know enough about the political state of the Huanglong or Jinzhou to really judge him. Not only that, you really didn't have all the relevant information you believed would be needed to draw an informed conclusion on what exactly prompted his realization.

So, instead of breaking up with him for being a "monster", you just told him to be safe and you yourself kept out of his work related matters.

Perfect, right?

Well... almost.

Sometimes, staying away from home didn't exactly stop any weirdos from trying to sneak up on him in your house in the dead of night. Only to find a very cranky, very protective farmer with a Tacet Mark and enough pent up anger to fuel the capital.

If Scar just so happened to come home to see you dragging a body to the town medic, he couldn't exactly help the little rush of pride that washed over him. But most importantly, it brought him comfort to know that you were more than capable of protecting yourself when he was away from home.

The thing he had been most scared of when he first thought over his feelings was losing you. He didn't want to lose you to a dangerous life as one of the many Fractcidus Overseers working to achieve their end goal, he didn't want to lose you to your own differing moral values, and most of all, he didn't want to lose you because of his own risky life decisions that frankly didn't have anything to do with you.

The peace of mind that came with watching you, in your pajamas, lug an unconscious intruder to Old Man Runchu's shack in the morning after you'd woken and found them still knocked out in the kitchen was more than he could ask for. It also showcased your especially kind heart, being unwilling to truly injure someone who was intent on either killing or kidnapping you.

Especially cause if Scar was there, little more than their Skeleton would be left.

But that was a different matter all together.

He laced his fingers with yours, swinging both of your arms at your side. "What do you say we go to Miss Chunhua's stall for some Milky Fish Soup that you love so much?"

Immediately you picked up your chin from the crown of his head to plant a big wet sloppy kiss on his forehead, "You see honey, this is why I love you."

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

"rest is peace Scar's pussy zipper I miss you every day"

THIS IS A REPOSTED WORK FROM MY ORIGINAL ACCOUNT BEFORE IT CRAPPED AND DIED ON ME

I USED TO BE FOUND AT @steadybear

I FEAR YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH SEEING @bigtedbear INSTEAD FROM NOW ON

[eerna]

can you explain your art techniques a little bit further? I just saw your post about arcane helping you drop line art and stuff, and I wanted to understand better (as someone trying to get into digital art)

Sureee, ty for asking! :)

For the first 7 years of my digital art journey I imitated the comicbook-style art tutorials and techniques artists I liked used. This means that I would start out with a sketch, draw the lineart on another layer on top of the sketch, hide the sketch, use solid blocks of color on separate layers for the coloring, and add lighting effects on top of it all. I was never really happy with how it turned out, and I often felt like I shouldn't have gone past the colored sketch phase because the full render would lose so much life. I used pretty much the same brushes I use now, aside from some textured ones, but not to their full potential because they were painting brushes being used for flat shading. Here's a few examples of fully rendered stuff from 2020-2021:

Then, I realized I do NOT have to do things I don't wanna do, and I can totally remove any steps from the process that I wish! I experimented for a while until I settled on a new thing that worked for me. And so my current process is: draw a sketch, color it all on one layer (base colors), add light effects if needed, add another layer on top of everything, and paint until satisfied with the level of rendering. Then I add optional effects, such as fires or patterns. This means I leave the sketch layer visible, so I have to clean it and base colors with erasers as I work, but it enables me to preserve the sketchy energy. The "all rendering on one layer" approach frees my hand and I don't feel pressure to render everything separately and perfectly, which in turn, ironically, makes my art look more detailed because the eye compensates for unfinished bits. In addition, the line between a colored sketch and a fully rendered piece is much thinner, which means I don't have to commit to completing anything, and that is a big deal for an insecure person prone to artblocks. If I lose interest halfway through the lineart-and-blocks-of-color process, I am left with an unusable piece. If I do it halfway through the painting process, I get a charming, messy piece a la my recent Chappell Roan art (I left the armor unfinished, and yet it doesn't clash with the rest of the art). Here's a recreation I did to show what a big difference the different approach makes:

So why didn't I stop doing lineart sooner? I did try, but my attempts tried to replicate what I did when painting traditionally, instead of adjusting to my digital abilities, so it usually looked whack. I remember showing my friends the Rito Village piece back in 2019, which was painted based on a screenshot from the game, and one of them telling me "Don't go back to lineart!" I was like "YEAH I am NOT going back to lineart!!! I will keep painting!!!" Only to realize that painting landscapes with already stylized references and painting portraits were completely different. Here's a painting portrait from one of those trial and error attempts. Later I realized the mistake was working on TOP of the sketch, as I would have done for traditional work, instead of both below AND on top of it - after all, my intention was to preserve the life of the sketch, which was impossible when I couldn't even see it. I also didn't understand color values (or honestly, any color aspects) very well, resulting in some low-contrast, unappealing blobs.

So yeah, my advice to any beginner digital artist is: experiment and figure out what works for you. Think about what makes you happy when creating, and build your process around it. Also, keep researching art theory and applying it to your work. Good luck to you and all other digital artists~

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

I just KNOW hawks has the most sensitive wings. Like you grip them? Eyes rolling, head spinning. He would whine so cutely too and then be all blushy about it because he didn't mean to whine like that you just caught him by surprise!! I would LOVE to see a hawks fic with focus on how sensitive those chicken wings of his are 😌😭 bonus points if he subconsciously grinds against whatever he's on top of everytime you play with them. Head. Empty.

This is so canon it's not even funny

Sensative

Pairing: Hawks x reader

Warnings: Smut, feather play?? idek but enjoy

Word Count: 1.7k

The first time was an accident.

It had been a long day, nothing out of the ordinary from Keigo's career as a pro-hero, but long nonetheless.

Over the course of your relationship, you have come to find that the average workday in his employment field was not only physically draining, but mentally as well.

And there were some days when the duties were just extraordinarily taxing, fatigue weighing on even the most durable of mindsets.

So when your boyfriend trudged through the door and met you in the kitchen, slumping into your arms with a short hum to complete the certified routine he had adopted at times like this, it wasn't that much of a surprise.

What was surprising was his reaction to your touch.

The oven sounded and you slipped your arms from under his, offering a quiet laugh at his mumbled protest. You reached to push him away to get to the food in the oven, hand accidentally brushing past the base of his wings instead of that of his back as he moved as well.

Initially, you hadn't really thought much of it.

But just as the tips of your fingers were leaving, you felt it; a slight shiver trailing down his spine, one that would've been left unnoticed if you hadn't been internally complaining about the summer heat moments ago.

You paused, opening your mouth to ask if he was alright when the stove interrupted you once more, stealing your attention and capturing the unanswered inquiry.

So yes, the first time was an accident.

But the second?

Not so much.

You were both settled on his couch, some Food Network channel buzzing in the background. With his arm draped over your shoulder, Keigo's wings encircled your bodies from each side, relaxing in the absence of his work's constant demands.

In your defense, it wasn't as if you had been actively searching for trouble. In fact, you hadn't thought of the occurrence since it happened.

But as your body sunk into his, your mind decided to conjure the memory, luring your line of sight to the red fluff underneath your body.

Without thinking, you reached out and trailed your hand through the scarlet plumage. The feathers rippled in the wake of your touch like a fiery sea. You had never really contemplated how soft and delicate they felt when in their unhardened form, much less how pretty they were.

However, these facts definitely weren't captivating enough to distract you from the way Keigo stiffened next to you.

"You okay?" You asked, surprised at the sudden tenseness.

He nodded, but you knew him well enough to tell that it was distant, almost like he was trying his best to avoid acknowledging it.

Mirroring his actions, you settled back into the faux-leather, silently awaiting for a chance to test your curiosity.

Guy Fieri had come on and was raving about a fried chicken sandwich, efficiently ensnaring Keigo's attention between a potato bun.

Thanks, Guy.

Raising your hand as discreetly as possible, you quickly drew your fingers down the side of his wings, skimming the ends with the tip of your pinky.

And then you heard it.

A whine, so quiet that it would've went unheard if the television's volume was increased a few notches, but heard nonetheless.

Your gaze shot up to his face, which seemed to slowly be taking on the same shade as his feathers. "Did you just-"

"No!" He crossed his arms.

Eyes wide, you attempted to pry them open, crawling on top of his lap like a child that had just discovered some new toy. "Yes, you did!"

Regardless, he held firm, averting his line of sight from yours. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Brows furrowed, you mimicked his closed position for a few seconds before allowing a playful grin to spread over your face. "Alright, let me show you then."

You reached out, but he caught your wrist with expert speed, just centimeters away from your target. With a surprised yelp, you were tugged underneath him with your back on top of the sofa's padding.

Obviously, his quickness wasn't unknown, but the soft tint of pint coating his cheeks definitely was, at least to you. It drew a curious grin on your features.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"It's embarrassing." He mumbled, jutting out his lower lip.

Moments like this were few and far between, especially with someone possessing a naturally cocky attitude such as Keigo's. As of now, you were giving a valiant attempt to quietly observe the unfamiliar behavior.

But his sulking expression drew a bubble of amusement from your chest. Despite your best efforts, your laughter only grew at the visible tic-mark across his forehead.

"See? You're laughing!" He pawed at your face, trying to quell your snickers in a way that only made it worse.

"I'm not trying to be mean, I promise." Grabbing his hand, you laced it through yours, letting it rest there until your giggles died down. "You're just cute when you pout."

Letting out a huff, he buried his face in your neck. The warmth of his skin against yours wasn't surprising, especially with the reddish hue still coating it.

"'M not cute." He muttered, peppering kisses past your collarbone, bringing another chortle from your lips from the ticklish feeling.

"I think you're very cute, especially now that I know you're so sensitive.."

Leaning back, he offered you an impish grin that had your heart flutter. "You think I'm shy?"

You nodded, letting your hand hang from the back of his neck. "Mhm. I don't think I've ever heard you whine before."

He scoffed. "You caught me off guard. It won't happen again."

Rolling your eyes, you dropped his arm. "I'm sure."

This time, when you reached out, he didn't stop you, allowing your hand to stroke the end top ends of his wings. The gesture did more than usher a quiet shiver, you observed, as he began to roll his hips into yours.

"Shit." You breathed, recognizing the shape of his hard-on pressing against you through his sweatpants.

"You really are such a brat." He let out a low groan when you gripped the outer edges just behind his shoulder blades.

"Arguably one of my best qualities." The statement was meant to be witty, but your tone wavered at the soft tickle of his erection brushing against your clit.

"Oh, definitely." Seeming to have noticed the tiny falter as well, he allowed a mischievous grin to ink across his features. "Gives me an excuse to fuck it out of you."

Keigo slipped a hand under your shirt, continuing to grind down as he began to rub at your breasts. You squirmed underneath his touch, releasing a soft sigh when he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

"Too bad you can't take it like you dish it out, though."

Of course, he didn't mean it. He reveled in the way he made you feel, whether it be the way you would avert your gaze in embarrassment or the not-so-subtle shift in your thighs at his degrading words.

Warmth was beginning to spark in your abdomen and you slowly lips your hips to meet his, an act as unconscious as his own.

Still, the friction wasn't enough, especially with the layers of fabric that were acting as a barrier in the most perturbing way possible. You moved to touch yourself, but he quickly caught your wrist, guiding it upward to grasp the other covert of his wing.

"I got ya, Sweetheart. Just don't stop, yeah?"

You nodded, trying to keep your hold steady even as he snaked a hand under the hem of your shorts, his thumb brushing against your clit.

Two fingers pushed into you, prompting a gasp that had you involuntarily gripping his feathers. He groaned when at the action, the grind of his body into yours increasing in speed.

With one final thrust he pulled away, linking his arms under your thighs to carry you towards the bedroom.

"So dramatic over one little whine." He grumbled, peppering your neck with his mouth.

If you had half a mind left, you would've made some snarky comment about the blush still covering the tips of his cheekbones. However, your conscious thought was already thrown out the window, replaced by physical desperation.

"Doesn't matter." He placed you on the mattress, tugging down your shorts as he fiddled with his own sweatpants. "I'll just have to make sure you do it louder."

He brought his thumb back to your clit, stroking the over-sensitive nub until you were squirming under him.

Gently prying your fingers from the sheets, he led them to grip his wings once more. "Hands up, lovebird."

They were nothing short of magnificent, you realized, fully extended to reach past the ends of the bed. Each scarlet feather seemed so delicate and flawless, hung over the sharp lines of his shoulder blades like a blazing cloak of satin.

The soft squeeze that you issued to them had his eyes rolling back, an act followed by a coarse grown on his part. You weren't even sure he fully realized what he was doing as he bottomed out, drawing a pleasured cry from your throat.

He took a moment before leaning down to allow you more access to the appendages, beginning to thrust into you as your hands trailed out from the muscles of his back.

Placing a kiss against your lips, he continued to fondle your clit, synchronizing the motions he made with each stroke against his wings.

The sounds he brought from the both of you reeked of carnal hunger. They matched his eyes, the bronze of his irises practically glowing in desire.

Similarly to his feathers, you had always subconsciously admired their beauty, especially when they were hazed over, trained on you in adoration and lust.

He leaned down, breath warm against your ear that sent a shiver down your spine.

"We'll see who's the sensitive one."

[rnbwtrout]

My Watercolor Process

Thank you for 1000 notes!!!

As promised here's a post on how I made this painting and the materials I use (⁠.⁠ ⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)

Also commissions are still open!!! If you have ideas I will help you bring them to life <3 Please see my pinned post!!

Process info under the cut vvvvv

First some materials!

Line art: I use Sakura Pigma Micron pens for line art. The ink in these pens are waterproof after they dry, which is very nice if you want clean line art. Usually I do my line art with a 005 size tip, and then I come back through and thicken lines and add shadows with a 03 size and brush tip. I'm still learning new ways to do lineart, but this is my current go-to.

Paints: I use Windsor and Newton paints. I haven't really tried others, and I have a few mixed feelings about some of the colors and how well they mix with others... Especially cuz this was an expensive set. Thinking about trying a new brand eventually but that's what I'm using for now!

If I'm doing a bigger project I usually brainstorm it first in my normal sketchbook. Here's the brainstorm for this one. Sometimes I feel like certain aspects of the initial sketch look better than the final piece, haha. After this I normally will free hand redraw it onto watercolor paper, I don't like to trace things over. Then I'll do the line art, allow the ink to dry entirely, and erase the pencil underneath

If I'm doing a big or complex background normally I'll lay down some masking fluid. This essentially seals the paper in some rubber so no water or color gets in, and then you can rub it off when you're done with the background. My masking fluid is really old and nasty so it's hard for me to get clean edges with it, but it does the job well enough!

Something really important to watercolor if you want vibrant colors: layering or using less water! In this case I did layering. Here is a side by side of Laios and Marcille with one layer of paint vs. two layers. The important thing when it comes to layering watercolors is to allow the first layer to dry completely before the second. Otherwise the paint may create strange textures and uneven color.

Something else important to creating vibrant colors with watercolor: taking risk with shadows!! On a whim I chose blue to use for shadows on the Lion's wings. You can really see the difference in visual impact between the blue shaded and unshaded wing. Generally speaking it's recommended to do shadows using blue or purple in watercolor, but I find this isn't always a solid rule. Sometimes it depends on what your base color is and what kind of impact you want. It's taken quite a bit of trial and error to figure out what looks good for me, and even then I'm still out here guessing.

I hit my image limit so I'll cut it off here! If you have any questions feel free to ask (:

[randomyuu]

the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

My guy Vox once again graced us with lovely Goyuu fanfics, and the way it follows you home, the stories i never told, made me go FERAL.

Time travel? Two Gojou Satorus? Double affection for our sunshine Yuuji? Yuuji sandwich? What feels like possible continuation of (you'll whisper, serpent tongue) what you fear you have become???

FUCK.

I need to stop indulging my imagination too much. I should’ve been content with writing long-ass comments but noooooo, my brain goes “you gotta draw it”. DAMMIT VOX, YOU AND YOUR DELICIOUS WRITINGS HHHHHH

So… usually I should’ve picked a favourite scene that is within my drawing capability, but I just… love all three chapters??? So I made a questionable time investment? I can’t stop??? Help???

This is probably the most ambitious fanart project I’ve ever done so far. Fair enough, considering I might combust if I keep these welled-up emotions inside from reading Vox’s Goyuu fics. Fuck.

Fic info:

Title: the way it follows you home, the stories i never told

Author: @voxofthevoid

Pairing: YuuGoGo. Future!Yuuji, Future!Gojou, Teen!Gojou

(idk why I laugh writing YuuGoGo. I’m beyond help)

Currently, it is 3 chapters out of 8. And it’s gonna be NSFW chapter 4 onwards, so don’t forget to read the tags first, folks!

The drawings are under Read More, because I have lots of thoughts surrounding each chapter and drawings. It’ll be hella long if I didn’t hide it here. It was a mess down there. A combination of hours before, during, and after I read said fic. I’d say good luck finding the art among the sea of jumbled words but… you’ll find them easily. Don’t worry about it haha

SPOILERS FOR ALL 3 CHAPTERS! I highly recommend reading those first before diving into these drawings!

Also for the comics, read from right to left please!

From here on, I will be referring to the Future!Gojou as Gojou and the teenage one as Satoru.

Overall, drawing all these is fun! Really fun! This project pushed me quite hard, forcing me to test my limit (because I rarely draw this much back to back). Since this is a combination of drawings and comics, the coloring style will not be consistent. In a way, I want to try some brushes I never get to use, as well as try out my new graphic tablet. Drawing these got me giggling because I was finally able to let loose during line art. It's much easier to do so, and sometimes I just get to reread the fic and giggle to myself for the nth time.

CHAPTER 1:

Whooo. Whooooooooo—

Ok, ok, the premise is just that good. It intrigued me, fascinated me, and I just… oomph. I cannot refuse a Time Travel Yuuji Sandwich. Sign me up.

Honestly, there are two scenes that are just… a bit too clear in my mind when reading this chapter. That would be the one I drew above, and the other is when Yaga called Gojou to come outside of the class. I love, loooove how Vox wrote Satoru’s POV. And when Yuuji fucking giggles?

I lost it.

Can you imagine, drawing Yuuji grins, with shiny stuff, maybe some sunlight, just purely happy and indulging Gojou?

Help me, for I am drowning in my love and adoration for Yuuji.

Page 2 is an experiment on using harsh black as shading (kind of?). I really enjoyed colouring Yuuji, and drawing those buffalo skulls! I wish I can grasp the concept of contrast a bit better tho :v

CHAPTER 2:

This is probably the only chapter where I picture still images instead of comic panels. A bit like those cool chapter covers in mangas. The one I really, really want to draw is the scene with Satoru on the table. Can’t pass the opportunity to highlight Satoru being a brat, albeit a really cool brat.

Cool idea drawing always proves to be a challenge, because of course my artistic skill just so happens to be below the requirement. Thank you, Sketchfab, for the chair and desk’s perspective otherwise I’m screwed lmao

The second scene that I want to draw the most is this:

Gojou is one step away from climbing Yuuji. Also, I have a bit of a problem picturing a man pouting that makes him look crazy instead, so please have Gojou pouting adorably instead. Because, as Yuuji said (with love), Gojou is (also) a brat.

This is possibly my favorite art in this project, after Yuuji's in Chapter 1 page 2. It's clean because I don't have to draw background, and I was having a fun time drawing Yuuji. And Gojou's squishy cheek as well.

Oh, actually, there is a “manga” scene in this chapter. It’s when Yuuji said, “I love Satoru.”

I just—

AAAAAHHHHH YUUJIIIIIII YOU AND VOX ARE GONNA BE THE DEATH OF ME. That secure relationship between Yuuji and Gojou? Satoru’s description of how Yuuji’s smile could blot out the sun??? Not me screaming 💀 I also see bits of hints of possible co-dependency, though I could be reading those wrong, but either way I’m good. Secure and possessive relationships are fun to consume hhhhhh

But yeah. There are too many wholesome Yuuji smiles in this fic, and I… I am not confident enough to draw genuine happiness. It’s too much for me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

For this chapter, another reason why I chose these two scenes is just because I want to try and draw cover-worthy pictures of Yuuji and Satoru, and Yuuji and Gojou (cough)

CHAPTER 3:

We start the chapter with Nanamin. Ah, Nanamin. I forgot what his teen self looked like and was surprised to see his design again lmao

I want to draw Yuuji and Nanami scene because… I just want to, I guess. I have never drawn him before (Yaga as well) so that's an interesting challenge. I got two ideas on how I want to draw it. One is a bit painting-esque, and the other one is like another chapter cover. In the end, I chose the cover one because I want to emphasise the difference between teen!Nanami and the Nanami from Yuuji’s original timeline, and how the watch feels like a connection between the same (yet not) person. It’s a bittersweet feeling? In a way?

I’m not really good at explaining my intention ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿

I love Yuuji’s answer to Nanami's question.

AND FINALLY.

A Yuuji SandwichTM scene.

And oh B O I do I love it. Have I told you I like every chapter? I probably have. But this one? Satoru’s curiosity, Yuuji’s on-brand self-deprecation, and Gojou come strolling down to show more of Yuuji to his mini-self. I want to draw this whole scene, from Gojou finding them, feeding Yuuji snacks, bitch-slapping Satoru into the backroom, to Yuuji growling. Them trying to hide a boner from Yuuji’s growl got me cackling so hard I LOVE IT 😭

I love it all. Please love Yuuji in my stead, Satoru and Satonyan :3

Oh! Also! 40-finger Yuuji sounds really, really cool! I’ll be happy with whatever Vox will give us in future chapters, but 40-finger Yuuji… possible scene with this timeline’s Sukuna… my god. The action! The drama! The bloodshed! One can only hope.

However, as much as I love that whole scene, it’s still too much for me :”) I’m still not yet confident in delivering the humour and action. Also my already-long drawing plan had my brain groaning in protest so I can’t push my luck :'D

When Gojou said "He looks sweet, but he's a bit of a beast", I kept picturing Yuuji staring innocently, but there was an edge to his look. As if the moment Satoru looks away, he will pounce. But in the end I just stick with innocent-looking Yuuji because I accidentally drew his eyes that way and I want to keep it in lol

Since Satoru points out how soft and cuddly Yuuji is, I also want to draw soft Yuuji :v

And the last one… is the last scene. For some reason, I read that both Gojou and Satoru share Yuuji’s lap and was having a frustrating yet fun time figuring out how it’s… physically possible, without having their butts on the ground because they both are not small at all. As I lined the art, I reread it again and… perhaps I read it wrong? Satoru is beside Yuuji, and not on his lap? So yeah, this one might be the least accurate, but hey, at least you can view it as a crack drawing or something :v

AAAANNNDDD I HAVE EXCEEDED TODAY’S BRAIN CAPACITY OF FORMING WORDS

Have I told you I love this fic?

…I probably have.

Have an amazing week (❁´▽`❁)*✲ﾟ*

[diabolicalacid]

birds of a feather— orpheus and eurydice

warning/s : suggestive content (smut), minors DNI.

you find yourself peeking at the door every once in a while. your focus should be fixed on the art assignment sitting on the easel in front of you. you’re due for a submission this week. but the brush held in your right hand, busy filling in the colours between the lines that are supposed to be a rendition of orpheus and eurydice, halts every time you look away and divert your gaze to the door, postponing the completion of your painting furthermore.

you don’t understand why your brain is unable to comprehend the fact that losing your focus and staring at the door won’t make time go any faster. there will still be thirty days in a month, twenty four hours in a day, sixty minutes in a hour, so on and so forth.

in your defence, it’s been forty minutes already. forty whole minutes since you received a text from atsumu, who told you he’d show up to your dorm room in twenty minutes. you don’t want to think of him negatively. however, you can’t help but wonder if you’ve been lied to once again by the same man, and if yes, how could you let it happen. you don’t want to doubt his word, but given the very recent history you share, you aren’t sure about the extent atsumu miya can be trusted to. in fact, you shouldn’t be wagering your trust in him at all.

because after last night, you really thought you had a chance with him only because he took you out on a wholesome date, made you feel like you’re on cloud nine, then fucked you dumb through the night. there’s no harm in saying that he led you on a little too much.

then, he went ahead and broke your fragile heart into a million tidbits. in his defence, he had a good enough reason to. now of course, he was clear about what he wanted from you, and under the circumstances that you were to date, you wouldn’t want your boyfriend to be thinking of some other chick while he’s with you. despite the realisation, your naive heart was and is still expecting more.

while you’re thinking through things, you realise, maybe, just maybe, you’re being a little delusional in this case. he was clear enough about his intentions, and you were the one who gave him a green light when it came to sex. putting the blame on him doesn’t cut it. if anything, you’re just as much to blame. but it’s easier for you to call him the bad guy. so that’s what you’ve been doing so far.

you think you need to buckle up and face the reality whatever it may be. whether atsumu remains in your life only as a friend or turns into a complete stranger, whether you end up dating him some time in the future, or if you end up in a casual relationship with him. no matter the outcome, you’ll have to face it head on without whining about it. consider it the consequences of your actions.

you leapt into something without giving it much thought, and now you must come to face the ending, may it be sweet or bitter. it doesn’t matter. you’ll have to accept things as they are. this is the philosophy you whisper to oneself, shading eurydice’s hair. you aren’t sure if she was a brunette or a blonde, so you stick to brown. kimura wouldn’t care much for it.

at twenty five minutes past three, there’s a knock at your door. you’re quick to drop your brush to the floor, splattering the pink paint on your carpet. you grimace at the splash of paint on your new carpet before you rush to the door.

you take a deep breath and arrange your thoughts before you open the door. you know it’s atsumu on the other side, and you have to train your brain before you let him in, so that this evening doesn’t lead to the same place last night led you to.

if he’s here for a conclusion, that’s all today will be focused on. although, you have to accept, last night was too good to be only a one time thing. so if his hands try something they shouldn’t, it might be difficult for you to resist as well. you really can’t blame yourself in this case, he was just too good last night. not that you can make a fair judgment, since he’s the only experience you’ve had so far.

there’s only so low you can stoop. from feeling absolutely ridiculous in your skin after you found out you were lied to by atsumu following your interaction last night, to thinking about offering yourself to him once again today, you can only curse yourself for having these thoughts.

in front of you, stands atsumu with a bouquet of flowers, not sunflowers, but roses. you bet he did that on purpose, but at least he got you flowers. it’s the thought that counts. there’s a transparent polythene bag in his hand containing snacks, a family sized tub of ice cream, and of course, the cake you made for him the night before, that he had taken with him when he left this morning. he really came prepared to save a damsel in distress. after ten years of rin, he sure does know how to warm a girl’s heart.

yours, being utterly gullible, is even easier to lure into a trap.

“here.” he holds out the bouquet of roses in the space separating the two of you, “for you.”

you offer him a bland smile, accepting the gift he has brought for you, “thank you.”

you head inside to place the bouquet of flowers on your bedside table, leaving atsumu hanging at the door. once the bouquet is set on the table, you turn around to return to him, hoping to relieve him of the load he’s come carrying.

you extend your hand, gesturing for him to offer you a few things to share the weight between the two of you. he hands you the packaged snacks sitting at the very top of the heap. you take them and enter inside, nudging atsumu, “come on in.” atsumu follows.

you roll your eyes, taunting, “you’re late.”

“sorry, cut-“ he stops, then rephrases and continues, “sorry, i mean, yn.”

your heart cracks when he refrains from calling you the nickname you were so generously offered yesterday. you don’t pay it much mind and continue walking ahead of him.

“i had to come over with resources.” he shrugs, patting your head, quipping at you, “for this whiny little girl.”

he mentions, “i had to take a detour, so of course, it took me some time.” his hand is still resting on your head as he follows you. you take it off and pick up pace.

you know he’s mocking you and that instantly spurs the anger within you. you want to turn around and smack him in the face, you want to show him stars in broad daylight, but you know better than to do that. you continue walking towards the tiny kitchen counter in your room to place the bags of snacks over it. atsumu follows, putting down the polythene bag on the countertop next to the snacks.

he picks out the packet of his favourite chips and his birthday cake from among the things he purchased for you and walks over to the bed. he jumps in, placing the packet of chips and the cake next to him.

from where he’s at, he can see you scanning around the various packets of snacks to pick out your favourite. you seem to be perplexed and unable to decide. he decides to help you out. he comes over to stand next to you, imitating your serious expression as you’re going through each packet. you look him from the corner of your eye, rolling your eyes as you pick out your favourite from the options available to you.

his hand curls itself around your waist, and he pulls you in by the side, whispering, “get me a spoon, will you?”

“what the hell?” you quake as his unexpected touch startles you.

you grip his hand and throw it off you. the audacity, you think to yourself. you turn around to face him, glaring daggers, seething, “behave.”

“you weren’t so stiff last night, cut—“ he smirks, then again, he stops mid sentence, clearing his throat, rephrasing, “yn.”

you roll your eyes at him, swatting his forehead, murmuring as you stand on your tip toes to lean closer to his face, deriving support by placing your hands around his neck, “just call me cutie if that’s what your mouth is trying to do.”

he looks at you, utterly smug, “that’s not what my mouth is trying to do, and you know it.”

you know exactly what he’s referring to, and you feel the blood rush to your cheeks, colouring them a dark shade of pink. atsumu kisses your flushed cheeks, putting his hand against your back.

“besides, i can’t risk it, someone takes things too seriously around here.” his palm moves to rest against the nape of your neck and he pulls you closer, his words falling onto your lips with only an inch of space separating them from his.

you choose to ignore the fact that he’s still taunting you. rather, it’s the proximity between the two of you that startles you. you can say it for a second time since crossing paths with atsumu, but you really weren’t expecting this.

you move back, finding yourself thrust against the edge of the counter. you turn your back on him and start nervously rummaging through the stand to look for two spoons, shaky hands unaware of what they’re looking for as you go through every utensil in the stand, coming across multiple spoons several times, but you fail to register the fact. he makes a note of this.

your hair is tied up, bound in a clutch, because you were busy painting and you didn’t want your it to be smeared in oil paint. atsumu unfastens your clutch, locking it around the sleeve of your sundress, allowing your long hair to flow against your back. you want to turn around and cuss him out, but you ask yourself not to. you want to grab your head and put it up in a bun. but you don’t. instead, you busy yourself, and you continue to look for spoons for the two of you.

you feel the air around you clear when atsumu walks away for a moment in response to his phone ringing. you breathe a sigh of relief, only to find yourself fooled. he cuts the call and makes his way back to you, coming to stand right behind you.

atsumu wraps his arms around your abdomen, resting his chin on your head, suggesting, “maybe i should help you look for cutlery.”

you squiggle your body, urging him to set you free. he lets go of you and positions himself next to you, intently staring at your nervous hands still looking around for the spoons, even though they’re resting right in front of you.

his hand takes a hold of yours, and he guides it around the counter in order to grab two spoons, poking your cheek, laughing, “here you go.”

he stands right behind you, grabbing your chin in his hand, with the other enveloping your waist. he leans forward, speaking in an undertone, “now, cutie. that wasn’t so hard, was it?” his breath is hot and as it settles against the skin of your face, your cheeks turn to red from the pink.

you gather yourself and hiss at him, shoving a butter knife through a pack of marshmallows lying on the counter, “no funny business.” atsumu drops your face, taking a step behind to create a distance between the two of you.

“we’re over.” you state, tossing the knife away.

he carefully collects your hair in his hands, positioning them in the front against your shoulder, exposing the skin of your back for him. atsumu envelopes his arms around your chest, catching you by surprise yet again. he leaves feathery kisses on the nape of your neck. then, on the skin of your back, forcing you to grip the edge of the counter.

he withdraws, shifting your hair to cover your back, mumbling next to your ear, “we were nothing to begin with.”

you’ve had enough. you pick the butter knife you previously threw away and turn around, threatening him, “you’ve got to stop.” the truth is, you’re enjoying this. it’s stimulating you and you wouldn’t want to miss out on the chance pleasuring yourself, but you don’t want to seem weak, so you decide to take a stand.

“just what are you here for?” you growl at him, hurling the knife at him, only because you know it won’t hurt. you’re no murderer, just a mad woman.

he raises his hand, catches the knife midway in the air, and snatches it away from your grasp. he twirls it between his fingers before he throws it to the floor, raising his brow at you, suspicious of your intent.

“i wasn’t actually going to hit you.” you mumble, scrunching your face.

atsumu suddenly sweeps you into his embrace, his hands engulfing you whole, making you lose balance, coercing you to take hold of his shoulders. you screech, eyes full of surprise wide open at him, “what the—“

“you ask what i’m here for, cutie?” he repeats your question to him, a coy smile lining his lips as he grabs a strand of your hair, curling it around his finger to play around with.

he answers, “to comfort you.” he kisses you on the lips. then, on your cheeks, followed by your neck, back to your lips.

you know you should push him away, but something about his tongue waging a passionate war with your own is enough for you to give in. his soft lips touching you at your weakest spots makes you weak in the knees. you’re no one to retaliate against a man who knows exactly what’s he’s doing. you don’t want to push him off you, you want more of him, and you want to give him more of you.

atsumu separates his lips from your own, and you’re gasping for breath. his hands find themselves trying to undress you, but you move, stealing your gaze away from him, denying, “not today.”

“i won’t give you any more of me if we’re not going to be exclusive.” you clarify, walking past him to take a seat on the bed.

he calls out in a playful tone to confirm, “you sure, cutie?”

“pretty much.” you raise your hand into a thumbs up, then pat the space next to you, inviting him to your bed.

atsumu jumps into the bed, rocking its frame, and takes the position right next to you. he gets comfortable against your pillow, and pulls you by the waist, closer to himself. you don’t refute, you only rest your head against his shoulder, placing the cake on his lap and the chips in the little space between the two of you.

you shove two spoons into the cake, one for each of you, making sly a remark, “this is what we should’ve done last night instead of what we actually did.”

atsumu let’s out a laugh, teasing you, “but you seemed to enjoy whatever we did.”

“you wanted more and more, cutie.” he simpers, his hand placed around your waist descends to reach your butt.

before he can spank you, you warn him, “stop.”

“no funny business.” you repeat yourself loud and clear, taking a spoonful of cake and placing it right in front of his mouth for him to eat.

he accepts your offering, his hand ascends and positions itself around your waist once again. he takes a spoonful of cake by himself and swallows it up before he reaches into the bag of chips to grab a few for himself.

you sigh, disappointment tainting your voice, “it seems this is the last time we’ll be seeing each other.”

“it seems that way.” atsumu agrees, holding out a chip for you to take. you take it, crunching it down. he offers you a spoonful of cake, you take that as well. you offer him a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving behind a little cream on his skin.

he wipes it with his hand, and you take his hand into yours, licking the cream off his fingers. you wrap your fingers around his, leaning against his shoulder comfortably.

atsumu suggests something he probably shouldn’t, considering the grim consequences spending a single night with you led to, “we should meet up for fun some times.” you choke on thin air, coughing.

you reject his idea, practically shouting at him in capital letters, “NO.”

“today, i like you. tomorrow, i might end up loving you.” you start justifying yourself at a hundred miles an hour, stuttering in the way, “while you’ll still be thinking of rin.”

“i really wouldn’t like that.” with that, you stop, take a deep breath.

atsumu nods, gabbling with cake swishing around his mouth, “understandable.” he grabs another spoonful of cake to eat. but before he can put it in his mouth, you take the spoon from his hands and eat the cake yourself, getting rid of the spoon. you take the box of cake off his lap and shove it aside.

you put yourself right on top of him, putting one of your hands on his shoulder and the other against his neck. you kiss him on his tragus first, then at the corner of his eye, then you peck his nose, place a chaste kiss on the corner of his lips, and finally, you kiss his chin, nibbing at it before you pause. his hand encircles your waist, supporting you as you continue to deposit kisses over his orofacial anatomy.

you mumble to him, lips pressing against his plender gap, “we shouldn’t meet up for fun.”

you continue kissing him, ascending to pull him by his collar, whispering against his lips, “doesn’t mean we can’t have fun for the last time, pretty boy.”

your hands, with a mind of their own, quite mischievous, lower themselves to unzip his jeans. you reach into his underwear to seize a hold of his cock. while stroking his dick with your hand, you lean closer to him, kissing him on the neck before you inquire, hoping to give him an erection as your hand gently explores his dick, “you like that?”

“oh my, cutie, you really are a feast to be around, huh?” he chuckles as he smirks at you, putting his hands on your back and your neck. you let go of his cock when you feel his grip tighten, thinking you’re overdoing it. he takes the opportunity to flip you over in an instant, quite effortlessly at that, taking you by surprise. he pins your hands to the side of your head, bending over to lay a kiss on your lips.

with him on top of you, and in control, his hands pull down the straps of your sundress, revealing your brasier that’s hot pink and strapless. he doesn’t care much for the colour, but the pattern that makes it very convenient for him to slide it off you, uncovering your breasts.

atsumu dips his fingers into the cake, smearing the cream against your cleavage. he proceeds to lick it off your cleavage. you aren’t sure where this is heading, but the next thing you know, his fingers are inside the cake again. this time, the cream is rendered on your boobs, and his tongue explores every inch of your breasts in an attempt to lick it all off you, sending your brain in a haze, irking you to whimper when you feel his tongue stroking your nipples.

“say, cutie, you like that?” he questions, raising a brow, smiling coyly at you.

you nod, huffing as you feel his hands cupping your boobs, and he squeezes them. you let out a cry.

he dips his fingers into the cake again, smearing the buttercream over your lips this time. he slowly licks it off your lips. you don’t find yourself pleasured by his action, so you dip your own fingers into the cake instead, and smear it on your breasts and your pussy.

“go on.” you order, winking at him as you grab his hair and pull his face closer to your chest.

he shakes his head, chuckling, “getting freaky, are we?”

atsumu’s tongue finds itself licking the cream off your breasts yet again, making you moan each time it slides over your nipples. he shifts himself downwards, pulling the dress off you as he goes down on you, layering your body with kisses. he throws it to the side.

his teeth grip the lace of your underwear, and he pulls it off your skin, tearing the fabric in the process. dropping it to the floor, atsumu’s tongue moves over to assist your pussy to clean itself. it explores the surface of your cunt, clearing it of the cream. once he’s done cleaning your cunt, he doesn’t stop there.

he inserts his fingers inside your hole, stroking your walls very slowly and steadily, making sure your feel every motion his fingers perform. feeling his fingers manoeuvre around your cunt effortlessly incites you to cum. your cum drips down his fingers, and he removes them outside to licks it off them, sneering at you as his tongue moves up his fingers, taking in your fluid.

atsumu puts his head between your legs again, shoving his tongue into your cunt, licking around your insides to stimulate you. when you cum once again, all over his tongue, he derives pleasure swallowing what came out of your cunt.

you’re so overstimulated by the movement of his tongue and his fingers, you find yourself gripping his hair and pulling him upwards and on top of you. your hasty hands take his jeans off him, then his underwear. you grab his dick, and begin stroking your hands over it. holding it firmly, you arch your back to reach closer and kiss his cock.

with your hands all over his cock, fidgeting around, his body can’t help but feel pleasured and the next thing he knows, he’s erect. his huge, veiny dick stares you in the face, making you proud of yourself. instantly, you want it inside your pussy or inside your mouth. either will do.

it takes you a lot of strength, but you tightly clutch onto his arms and flip him over. you take a seat on his legs, simultaneously dipping your fingers into the cake. you decorate his huge dick with the buttercream, ready to pleasure him for the evening.

your hands are sticky. you find your sundress lying next to you m, and wipe your dirty hands with it. you take hold of your clutch and secure your hair into a bun, making sure it doesn’t interfere. you bend over him.

you smugly smile at him, winking as you proceed to lick the cream off his large cock, gently stroking it concomitantly. every time the tip of your tongue coasts against the length of his dick, he feels his endorphins surge, and in the end, as you’re about to wipe the last bit of cream off him, he cums on your face.

you use your hands to wipe the creamy liquid off your face and smoothly slurp if off your hands. you go ahead and lap the cum dripping down his cock, taking it inside you without hesitation. atsumu cannot hold it back anymore. he needs to be inside of you. that’s the only way this evening will feel worth. his hands grip your body and he puts you under him.

he whispers into your ear, “okay, cutie, time to have some real fun.” with that, his huge cock is thrust inside your cunt. as you take it inside, you let out a humongous wail.

while he’s moving in and out of you, his veiny dick grazing past your walls, with the release of your pleasure hormones topping the charts, you can’t help but not want this moment to end at all.

౨ৎ summary of this chapter : what a waste of a perfectly good cake.

౨ৎ god sent down a brain cell and yn received it and put it to some use, but that didn’t last long.

౨ৎ atsumu didn’t get the roses on purpose, it’s just that the shop had run out of sunflowers.

౨ৎ atsumu had truly come over with the intention of “comforting” yn.

౨ৎ atsumu and yn need to be gifted some rubber.

previous : reality check

masterlist | next : men will be men

🐰my s/o is watching greys anatomy right now and he suggested i should break atsumu’s dick so that he stops fucking around with yn. if you know the reference, you know. okay, bye.

taglist— @wolffmaiden @kafkassexchoe @luna-mothii @bomjug @le000xxgrd @dazqa @ineednanami @iluvaquaphor @debussy42 @choizzn @bunninio @empress-pug-pug @karasunoya @sereniteav @yuminako @reooreo @loveelylacey @nbcvs

[genericpuff]

Hey, so I really love Lore Rekindled, and the art is one of my favorite parts! The style, the coloring, the background, all of it is just so… smooth! I don’t really know how to describe it. Recently, I’ve been trying to replicate it, and I was hoping you would give me a few pointers. What brushes do you use for line art? How do you decided what to line, and what to leave blank? What about coloring brushes? Do you use smudge brushes? Whats, like, the step by step process? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to! But any tips or answers would be great!

Ah thanks so much!!!

Here are the brushes! They're .abr brushes, so they should work in Photoshop, Clip Studio and Procreate :) (they don't work in Krita or other software that utilizes PNG brushes though, sorry ; ; )

There's also a tutorial included with that file that breaks down my process layer by layer! That said, there are a couple things that have changed in my process since doing that tutorial:

I mostly use the Hard Square Pastel brush now for all of that 'crispy' lighting that often happens along the edges of characters' shoulders and heads, such as seen here:

I now do an extra step of applying a 'blur' layer, where I essentially merge all the layers into a new layer on top of everything, set it to Overlay, and then Gaussian Blur by about 60%. This is how I get that 'dreamy' look that's been present in a lot of the more recent episodes!

It's subtle, but really effective in making the glow effects and deeper colors really pop!

As for the more nuanced stuff like lineart, it's kinda just something I do by feel! Sometimes I'll shade something in and realize the lineart doesn't need to be there, so then I'll go in and erase, other times I have to be a bit more excessive with it esp if two similar colors are up against each other. I'm actually trying to use less lineart going forward to get more of that authentic LO look but it's hard, I'm very used to doing lineart-heavy drawings so it's forcing me to draw in a way that I'm not used to! 😆 I usually always start with flat colors first though, meaning I start by 'shaping' out the character poses and then lining them in afterwards!

You can see an example of this process in my END OF PERSEPHONE time lapse here:

I also usually stream work sessions of Rekindled over on my Twitch, but I'm currently on hiatus from streaming due to technical difficulties (OBS just... decided it was gonna stop working, sigh). Go give it a follow anyways tho so you can be notified when I start streaming again! I'm thinking in the meantime until I can get my Twitch going again I might start doing some screen sharing sessions in Discord. So keep your eyes peeled for that if you ever wanna catch me working! I'm always happy to talk about and demystify the process <3