#which means i gotta draw him some more

[onesmolbean49]

Okay but who could blame them for wanting to obliterate each other?

[unproduciblesmackdown]

omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

[exopelagic]

I know the world is cruel because I finally wanna draw again and yet I am forced to pack :(

[aria0fgold]

Feeling very Cain from Wolves Den coded right now. Gonna be designing an outfit for him to use for the drawing and so off to firefox I go to search up: "are leather jackets good for hunting" answer is No, so I went to search something else again: "what jacket is good for hunting with a license" (i added the with a license as an afterthought cuz i feel like google wont understand me if i just put hunting on that). Which finally led me to: "shooting jacket mens"

[pucksandpower]

Thick Thighs Save Lives

Day 15 → Thigh Riding 💋 Max Verstappen

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

“You okay?” Max’s voice cuts through your haze, pulling you back to reality. You blink twice, realizing you’ve been staring — no, more like ogling — at the man standing in front of you.

You cough, trying to play it off. “What? Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Your voice cracks, and you hate it. You’re not convincing anyone, least of all yourself.

Max tilts his head, concern flickering in those blue eyes. “You sure?” His Dutch accent is thicker when he’s confused, or worried. Right now, you think it’s both. “You look … distracted.”

Distracted. That’s an understatement. But what are you supposed to say? Sorry, babe, I overheard some fans talking about your thighs, and now I can’t stop imagining what it would be like to-

Nope. Not happening.

Instead, you shake your head too quickly, like that’ll fix the mess in your brain. “Just … hungry, maybe,” you mumble, though you know hunger isn’t exactly what’s going on.

Max gives you a sideways look, one eyebrow raised. “Hungry?” He repeats, not buying it for a second. You can tell by the way his lips twitch into that small, knowing smirk of his.

“Yeah, hungry,” you lie again, pulling at the sleeves of your jacket like it’s suddenly too tight, or too hot, or both. “Long day, y’know?” You hope the vague excuse will get him to drop it. You’re begging the universe for mercy at this point.

But Max isn’t one to let things slide, especially when it comes to you. He steps closer, and now, all you can think about is the fact that the fans weren’t wrong. His thighs really are massive — like, practically sculpted by the gods or something.

You can’t stop your eyes from flicking down for half a second. You catch yourself just in time, but Max catches you too.

“You’re acting weird,” he says, and there’s a teasing lilt in his voice now. He’s grinning, and you hate that he’s grinning, because it means he knows something’s up. “Did something happen?”

“No,” you blurt out. Too fast. Way too fast. You force a smile, trying to steer the conversation somewhere — anywhere — else. “I’m just, uh, thinking about … qualifying! Yeah, qualifying. How’s the car?”

Max’s grin softens into something more genuine, like he’s willing to play along for now. “The car’s good. Feels fast. We’ll see.” He shrugs, his eyes still studying you, probably wondering what the hell is actually going on in that head of yours.

“That’s good,” you say, nodding like an idiot. “That’s great. Fast is great.”

Max laughs, shaking his head. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?” He leans in, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “What’s really going on? You never look this … distracted.”

You swallow hard, heat rising to your face. Damn it, he’s not going to let this go. Your mind is racing, trying to come up with something, anything, that sounds remotely believable. “I told you,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, “I’m just hungry.”

“Uh-huh,” Max says, clearly not convinced. He crosses his arms over his chest, which only draws your attention back to his entire … well, everything. You try not to look, but your eyes have a mind of their own.

For a second, you’re sure he’s going to press further, but then someone calls his name from across the paddock. It’s one of the engineers, probably needing him back before qualifying starts. Max looks over his shoulder and gives a nod before turning back to you.

“I gotta go,” he says, still watching you carefully, like he’s trying to solve a puzzle that doesn’t make any sense. “But we’re talking about this later.”

You nod, thankful that the conversation is ending before you dig yourself into a deeper hole. “Yeah, sure, later.”

Max looks at you for a second longer, his eyes narrowing in that way he does when he’s thinking, really thinking. Then he gives you a quick smile, one of those small, private ones that’s just for you. “Take care of yourself,” he says, his voice soft but insistent.

“I will,” you reply, managing to sound more normal than you feel. “Good luck out there.”

“Thanks,” he says, turning to walk away, and that’s when it happens.

Your eyes, without your permission, drift downward again. His back is to you now, his long strides taking him toward the garage, and it’s impossible not to notice the way his legs move.

His thighs — God, those thighs — are straining against the fabric of his race suit. It’s like every muscle is defined, every step making them flex in a way that you’re suddenly very, very aware of.

And it’s not just the size. It’s the power behind them, the way you know he’s spent years building that kind of strength, how it’s the kind of thing you only really notice when you’re close to him, or, in your case, when you’ve been thinking about it all day because some fans pointed it out, and now it’s all you can think about.

You bite your lip, trying not to make a sound. Your heart is racing, and your palms are starting to sweat, and all you can focus on is the way his legs look as he moves further away from you.

You should be ashamed of yourself. You are ashamed of yourself. This is ridiculous, and yet …

Max stops halfway to the garage and glances back over his shoulder, probably to check if you’re still watching. You quickly snap your gaze upward, hoping he doesn’t catch you staring again. But it’s too late — there’s that grin on his face, the one that says he knows exactly what’s going on.

“You sure you’re okay?” He asks, raising an eyebrow.

You nod, managing a weak smile. “Yeah,” you lie again. “I’m fine.”

Max shakes his head, clearly not buying it, but he doesn’t press any further. He gives you one last look before heading back toward the garage, and as he disappears inside, you let out a long breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

You’re still staring at the spot where he disappeared, and without even thinking about it, you run your tongue over your bottom lip.

You can’t help it. You’re salivating.

You’re only human, after all, and some temptations are impossible to resist.

***

The hotel room is quiet, except for the sound of the zipper on Max’s backpack as he tosses it aside. It’s late, the race adrenaline slowly wearing off, but you’re both still buzzing with energy. Max is already getting undressed, down to just his Red Bull t-shirt and those jeans that hug his body like a second skin.

You’re barely paying attention to what you’re doing, hands fumbling with the buttons of your own shirt, your mind somewhere far away. Or maybe not that far. Maybe your mind is right where it’s been for the past thirty-two hours — on him. Specifically, on those damn thighs.

Max turns his back to you for a moment, pulling his shirt over his head, and when he faces you again, you’re frozen, mid-button, staring. His thighs strain against his jeans, the fabric pulled taut around them as he shifts his weight.

You know you should keep undressing, keep moving, but you can’t. All thoughts leave your mind, replaced with the memory of the way they looked under his race suit, the way they flexed as he walked, the way-

“You’re staring again.”

His voice is low, teasing, and it snaps you out of your trance. You blink, cheeks burning, and quickly look away, but it’s too late. Max has already caught you, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he moves closer.

“Seriously, what’s going on?” He’s standing right in front of you now, his eyes searching yours, but he already knows. Of course he does. The way he’s grinning tells you that much. “You’ve been acting weird since yesterday.”

You swallow hard, trying to find some way out of this, some excuse, but nothing comes. He’s so close, close enough that you can smell the faint traces of his cologne, feel the heat radiating off his skin, and all you can think about are those jeans, how tight they are around his legs, how-

Max reaches out, gently tipping your chin up so you have to meet his gaze. “You can tell me,” he says, his voice soft now, almost coaxing. “What’s got you all flustered, hmm?”

You can’t look away. He’s too close, too knowing, and suddenly, you feel like you’re caught in a trap. Your mouth opens, but no sound comes out. What are you supposed to say? That his thighs are all you’ve been able to think about? That the way they look in his jeans is driving you crazy?

Max’s eyes flicker down, and you know he’s noticed where your gaze keeps drifting. His smirk deepens, and when he speaks again, his voice has dropped, taking on a huskier tone. “Ah. I see.”

Your breath catches in your throat. He knows. Of course he knows. You feel your heart start to race, and suddenly, the room feels too small, too hot.

Max steps even closer, his hand sliding from your chin to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing gently over your cheek. “Why didn’t you just say so?” He murmurs, his eyes dark and intent, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “I would’ve taken care of you sooner.”

You bite your lip, trying to keep some semblance of composure, but it’s no use. Max is looking at you like he knows exactly what you need, and worse — he’s right. He moves his hand to the small of your back, guiding you toward the bed, and you follow, unable to resist.

When you reach the edge of the bed, Max sits, his legs spread slightly apart, and you’re left standing there, feeling like the world’s worst combination of flustered and exposed. He’s still in his jeans, the denim pulled tight over his thighs, and your eyes are immediately drawn to them again. You don’t even try to hide it this time.

Max chuckles, low and deep. “Come here,” he says, his voice a command wrapped in a velvet whisper.

Your feet move before your brain can catch up. You step between his legs, heart pounding in your chest, and Max’s hands find your hips, pulling you down until you’re straddling his thigh. The moment you make contact, your breath hitches, your body reacting to the firm pressure beneath you.

“See?” Max murmurs, his hands sliding up to your waist, his touch gentle but insistent. “This is what you needed, isn’t it?”

You can’t answer, can’t find the words. All you can do is nod, your hands gripping his shoulders for balance as you shift on his thigh. The friction is immediate, electric, sending a shockwave through your body. You gasp, and Max’s grip tightens.

“Yeah,” he breathes, his voice thick with satisfaction. “That’s it. Just like that.”

His hands guide your hips, slow at first, drawing out the movement, letting you feel every inch of him beneath you. The rough fabric of his jeans rubs against you, the friction unlike anything you’ve felt before. It’s overwhelming, almost too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you want, what you need.

Max watches you, his eyes dark and hungry as you move against him, your breaths coming faster, more ragged. He knows what he’s doing, knows exactly how to drive you crazy, and he’s taking his time, savoring every second of it.

“You’ve been thinking about this, haven’t you?” He whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at me. At my legs. You couldn’t stop, could you?”

You shake your head, unable to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. The heat between your legs is building, and every time you shift, every time you drag yourself over the firm muscle of his thigh, it sends a pulse of pleasure through you.

Max grins, his hands tightening on your waist, guiding you faster now, urging you on. “I knew it,” he says, his voice low and full of satisfaction. “You just needed this. You needed me.”

You moan softly, your head falling forward against his shoulder as the pressure builds, your body practically trembling from the intensity of it. Max’s grip on you never wavers, his hands controlling the rhythm, keeping you exactly where he wants you.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your temple. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

You can’t hold back anymore. The tension in your body snaps, and you cry out softly, your hips bucking against his thigh as the pleasure overtakes you. Max holds you steady, his hands firm on your waist, grounding you as wave after wave of sensation crashes over you.

When it’s over, you’re left breathless, slumped against him, your body trembling in the aftermath. Max’s hands slide up and down your back, soothing, gentle, as he waits for you to catch your breath.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice soft and full of warmth. “You did so well.”

You don’t have the energy to respond, your head still spinning from the intensity of it all. But then, as the haze begins to clear, you feel something — wetness — on the denim covering his thigh. You pull back slightly, your face flushing with embarrassment as you realize what you’ve done.

Max just chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Don’t worry,” he says, his voice full of mischief. “I don’t mind.”

You bury your face in his chest, mortified, but Max’s arms come around you, holding you close, his laugh rumbling through his body.

“I told you,” he whispers, his lips brushing against your hair. “I know exactly what you need.”

***

The morning light filters through the curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the hotel suite. You stir in bed, slowly coming to consciousness, a vague sense of discomfort pulling you from sleep.

For a moment, you’re content to stay buried under the sheets, your body heavy with exhaustion and satisfaction from the night before. But then the feeling sharpens — a tenderness, right between your legs. You shift, and the soreness becomes more pronounced.

Your eyes snap open. Oh.

The friction from last night, the way you rode Max’s thigh with reckless abandon, comes back to you in vivid, heated flashes. You groan, face half-buried in the pillow, not from embarrassment this time but from the distinct ache you feel in your most sensitive spot. Your poor bundle of nerves, now sore, throbs slightly when you shift your legs.

You turn your head to glance at Max. He’s already awake, leaning back against the headboard, scrolling through something on his phone, his hair still a mess from sleep. He looks over at you when he notices you stirring, his mouth curling into a soft smile. “Morning.”

“Morning,” you mumble, voice still thick with sleep. You shift under the covers again, wincing as the soreness flares once more. You press your legs together instinctively, hoping it will somehow dull the ache.

Max’s brow furrows. “You alright?”

You pause for a second, debating how much you actually want to admit. But the soreness isn’t something you can brush off, not when every slight movement reminds you of it. You let out a small sigh and tilt your head to look at him.

“I’m … sore,” you admit, biting your lip. “Really sore.”

Max’s lips twitch, a hint of amusement lighting his eyes. “Sore where?”

You give him a look, half-exasperated, half-embarrassed. “You know where,” you grumble.

He chuckles softly, setting his phone down on the nightstand. “I might need a little more detail. I’m a driver, not a mind reader.”

You can’t help but laugh, though it’s mixed with a groan as you shift your hips again. “You know,” you mutter, avoiding his eyes. “There.”

Max raises an eyebrow, still amused, but then his expression softens with concern. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” you say quickly, wanting to reassure him. “It’s not that. I guess I just … overdid it. Denim can be rough.”

Max nods, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Wait here,” he says, sliding out of bed with the ease of someone who’s used to early mornings and late nights in uncomfortable places. You watch as he rummages through his luggage on the floor, tossing aside various items before pulling out a small tube of ointment.

“What’s that?” You ask, propping yourself up on one elbow.

Max returns to the bed, sitting on the edge. “This? It’s some kind of cream I used for a cut I had a while back.” He holds up the tube for you to see, the words on it clearly medicinal. “I think it might help.”

You hesitate, unsure. The idea of Max applying anything down there is both intimate and a little embarrassing. But the soreness is getting worse, and the thought of relief is too tempting to ignore.

“You trust me?” Max asks softly, his eyes locking with yours.

You nod, swallowing hard. “Yeah. I do.”

Max smiles at that, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before squeezing a small amount of the ointment onto his fingers. “Let’s take care of you, then.”

You shift slightly on the bed, opening your legs a little to give him room. Your breath hitches as he moves closer, his touch gentle and careful. His hand slips beneath the covers, fingers finding the tender spot with a sensitivity that makes you melt.

“You sure this is okay?” He murmurs, his gaze flicking to yours for reassurance.

“It’s fine,” you whisper, though the feel of his fingers, even in this innocent context, has your pulse racing.

Max is slow, deliberate, applying the ointment with a tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. His touch is cool at first, but then the warmth from his skin mixes with the soothing sensation of the ointment, and your body starts to relax. The ache begins to ebb away, replaced by a gentle, comforting warmth.

“Better?” He asks after a few moments, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You can only nod, your eyes fluttering shut as the tension leaves your body. But it’s not just the relief from the soreness that’s making you feel this way. It’s the way Max is touching you — careful, considerate, and yet undeniably intimate. You hadn’t expected something as simple as this to feel so … intense.

Max’s fingers continue their slow, deliberate movements, his eyes never leaving yours. “Tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, though his voice is huskier now, like he knows stopping isn’t something you’re going to ask for.

Your breath catches in your throat as he presses a little more firmly, the friction now bordering on something else entirely. The tenderness is still there, but now, so is something deeper, something stirring inside you that you can’t ignore.

“Max …” you whisper, your voice trembling slightly.

He doesn’t respond with words, just a small smile as his thumb grazes over your clit, drawing a soft gasp from your lips. He’s not trying to push you, not really, but his touch is becoming more deliberate, more focused.

And you’re unraveling.

The gentle pressure of his fingers, the slow circles he’s tracing, the way he’s watching you so intently — it’s all too much, and yet not enough at the same time. You shift your hips, instinctively seeking more, and Max’s eyes darken as he registers your need.

“You’re so sensitive,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over the same spot again, drawing another gasp from you. “Does it feel good?”

You nod, unable to find the words. Your body is responding without permission, a slow burn building in your core, the ache from earlier completely forgotten now. It’s been replaced by something else — something hot and electric, coursing through you with every touch.

Max leans closer, his breath warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need.”

You can barely think straight, let alone articulate what you need, but you manage a breathless, “More.”

His fingers move with more purpose now, pressing harder, rubbing in just the right way that makes your body arch toward him, a soft moan escaping your lips. The sensation is almost overwhelming, the pleasure mixing with the relief, and you feel like you’re coming undone in his hands.

Max watches you, his eyes dark and intense, clearly enjoying the way you’re responding to him. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice low and reassuring. “Just let go.”

And you do. You let go of the last bit of restraint you’ve been holding onto, your body trembling as the tension builds higher and higher. Max’s hand never falters, his touch steady, coaxing you closer and closer to the edge.

You’re breathing faster now, your heart racing in your chest, and you can feel the heat pooling low in your belly, spreading through your body like wildfire. It’s too much, too intense, and yet you need it, need him.

“Max,” you gasp, your fingers gripping the sheets as the pleasure surges through you. “I’m-”

“I know,” he whispers, his thumb pressing down just right, and it’s all it takes to send you spiraling.

Your body clenches, the release crashing over you in waves as you cry out, your hips bucking against his hand. Max holds you through it, his fingers never stopping, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you’re left trembling, your body spent and your mind blissfully blank.

When it’s over, you collapse against the pillows, panting, your heart still pounding in your chest. Max pulls his hand away, careful and gentle, and leans down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“How do you feel now?” He asks, his voice full of warmth and affection.

You manage a weak smile, still catching your breath. “Better. Much better.”

[himbosandhardwear]

Eddie scans the room, looking for who or what he's not sure, just keeping his eyes peeled for something interesting. It's Saturday night, a packed house, some of the usual suspects but some new faces too.

One in particular stands out, especially considering his Sears Catalog attire and artfully tousled hair.

There's something about his loose body language that draws Eddie's eye. He's out of place but he doesn't act out of place. Eddie can respect it.

Unfortunately, when their eyes meet, he gets a kicked gut reaction that makes it clear this guy is off limits. The guy looks away immediately, probably thinks Eddie is more likely to pickpocket him than buy him a drink. Oh well. No great loss, he didn't come to get laid anyway.

He makes his way to the bar, gets a shot of Jack and a Miller Lite and waits. Teddy will probably show up before too long, maybe they can bar hop. He sips his beer and looks around some more, noting the older Mexican lady who runs the flower stand on the corner. You wouldn't guess it just by looking at her but she can drink anyone in the place under the table. He should really get her name.

Sears Catalog has moved to a table on the right side of the room, standing with a presumed girlfriend. Their heads are bent close together. He looks up and catches Eddie staring. They both look away again. He's really gotta stop doing that before he gets hate-crimed. It's a known problem, his type being untouchable preppy boys. He's sure if a shrink studied him, they would say it was because he didn't think he was worthy of love, or some shit, but he can't help it. The straighter, the meaner, the cleaner cut, the more Eddie falls all over himself. It’s a miracle he ever gets laid. Thankfully there’s always closet cases. He swore to himself he wasn't going to do that anymore though, he needs to have some self-respect, not let asshole jocks use him and drop him the second an emotion is displayed.

“That outfit is hideous.”

Eddie jolts in his seat. He finds Sears Catalog smirking at him like what he's said is the height of wit.

Eddie wastes no time pouring the rest of his beer over the guy's head.

He stares back at Eddie in shock, almost hurt. Fuck him. He doesn't care, he's not letting some dumbass gymrat hone his bullying skills on him. Not today.

The guy's girlfriend jogs over with a handful of napkins, which is when Eddie splits.

“I told you not to use that line!” He hears her exclaim. Eddie stops in his tracks.

“But…but...he didn't even let me get to the good part,” Sears laments. Eddie can't turn back around, he's frozen in place.

“Yeah, dingus, because it's a stupid fucking line. I'm sorry you had to find out like this but not every guy who makes eye contact with you wants to fuck you.”

“I know that! I just thought… I don't know. Let's just get out of here.”

He sounds so defeated. Eddie did that. He assumed the worst and reacted accordingly. Like an asshole. Like a bully.

They're halfway to the door when Eddie's feet unstick themselves from the floor. He rushes to intercept.

“What was the rest of the line?” He shouts.

Sears turns, eyes wide, unsure.

His…friend? Looks Eddie over, unimpressed. “What's it to you?”

He winces. “Just…uh…I guess I thought you should know, some of the guys who make eye contact do want to fuck you, they're just too stupid to realize they're being hit on.”

Sears and Mean Friend make their own eye contact. Mostly ‘Beat it' and ‘Are you serious?’ and ‘Yes, oh my god, please go.’

Eddie respects their bond.

Once Mean Friend has sufficiently rolled her eyes and threatened Eddie with bodily harm should anything worse than beer befall her friend, she stalks off into the night.

“You should take it off.”

“Huh?” Eddie responds, stupidly.

Sears smiles. “That's the rest of the line. ‘Your outfit is hideous. You should take it off.’”

Fuck, it really is a terrible line. Something a middle aged creep would use. If he'd waited long enough to hear it the first time it would've made him laugh though, which would have broken the ice.

“Awful. Zero out of ten,” he says while grinning. “Looks like you already offended one guy.” He looks at Sears’ wet shirt, appreciating his own handiwork.

“I'll keep workshopping.” His hand comes up slowly, like Eddie might react badly again. “Steve.”

It's his honor and privilege to clasp Steve's hand in his own.

“Eddie. And can I say, your outfit looks great. It would look better on my floor.”

Steve practically twinkles at him. “Stop, I'm already a sure thing.”

He uses the hand still in his grasp to pull Eddie forward and smash their lips together.

When their grandkids ask how they got together, Eddie is going to have to lie.

[montimer]

Deadpool x reader

Gn!reader,him gaining a crush on ya

He tries not to believe it. Is there even a scenario where you would love him back?

He tries his best to push these feelings away. But he just can't help it, i mean why you gotta be so beautiful and kind to him and your voice, gosh- but the more he tries getting his mind off you the more it hurts. Especially if he goes to drink at a bar and gets so drunk he ends up with someone next to him in the morning.

So instead he lets his obsession grew.

Oh you're shopping? He just happens to be there too! Don't question it, he'll start yapping and drags you with himself.

He invites you over more than usual. You wanna watch a movie? Play games? If he wins he gets a kiss- whoa what,who said that?

He'll wanna have sleepovers. Throw pillow fights and no he won't sleep on the floor, make some space for him. Incase you don't tell him to sleep on the couch he'll totally not creepily stare at you as you sleep. Sure he'll fall asleep,,eventually.

He gives you tiny hints that he loves you. But of course you won't really catch them, after all he acts freaky with everyone.

And by flirting i mean, putting a hand around your shoulder. Telling you that you are gorgeous and calling you nicknames. Showing you a heart with his hands and so much more.

If you let him he would love to hug you every now and then. Tho his hugs get longer and longer the more you let him closer to you.

Speaking of which, he'll let you see his face and know more about his past only after a longer time.

But even then, when he took off his mask and expected a disgusted look or a mean comment, you just smiled at him and reassured that he is beautiful inside and out. Can you be any more charming? He just fall head over heals all over again.

You laugh at his jokes and think hes cool? He is wordless.

He will try to kiss you through his mask and will do it if you don't push him away. "Smooch me!"

Sometimes he stares at you with out noticing.

His room is full of stuff that you gifted to him and photos of you (where he got it? Oh don't worry about it..)

And if you happen to be a hero/etc, he will have a plush and other merch of you around.

He'll even give you a mini version of himself. To keep you safe he says.

He loves to be around you and is overly affectionate.

He squishez his eyes into a smile upon seeing you. He'll wave at you and everything.

He'll draw you silly pictures (mostly the two of you holding hands and being lovey-dovey)

He also leaves you flowers.

If you say nice things to him it'll blow his mind. By nice i mean stuff like "You are cute!" Or "You're the best!". Yeah you really think so? His heart feels like its beating stronger.

He speaks before thinking rather often. He lets his stranger thoughts out. Such thoughts like "You're so hot". He stares wide eyed at you after. Then comes the awkward laugh, just laugh with him please.

Anyways get used to it cuz he'll make your life a living hell, or maybe heaven?

He would ask you to move into an apartment with him, and he won't stop asking that question. Wouldn't it be less lonely and more fun to have a roommate?

He just can't come up with a way to confess..maybe the job will do it itself? No Yes,yes it will Wade don't worry.

[avocado-writing]

Kinktober #20

20. Infidelity - Cuckolding // Cunnilingus // Threesome (Logan Howlett x Reader x Wade Wilson - this is for you, that one anon)

You’re at orgasm ten and they aren’t slowing down. 

That’s the problem when you have two not-quite-human lovers: their stamina is fucking insane. Barely any refractory period either. All you can do is hope that you can keep up with them… and that your body doesn’t goddamn give out.

It kinda is giving out, though.

“One more…” Logan growls, moving his way up your prone form like an animal. You choke on the idea of wringing any extra pleasure from yourself. Your cunt is leaking with a mix of cum: yours, Logan’s, Wade’s; a sinful cocktail soaking into the sheets. You can’t keep anything inside you any more. You’re full. 

“Logan, no,” you say, firmly, slapping his shoulder with as much effort as you can muster. He looks down at you, and those soft puppy eyes remind you why you see him as such an obedient dog at times. 

“You okay, baby?” he asks, backing down immediately when he is chastised.

“I’m gonna die on this bed Logan. You’ve made me orgasm my soul out,” you sigh, relieved for your poor pussy that he’s so willing to listen. Next to you on the bed Wade is half-hard again but even he looks exhausted.

“Now normally my rampant machismo would require me to see this through until one of us had jizz leaking out our nose, but for the sake of our pookie here I’m happy to call it a draw.”

It had been so stupid, the lead up to his. The three of you lazing around, enjoying each other’s company and watching a movie. A sex scene had come on and it had got the three of you talking, which had got the two of them arguing. Who did you most enjoy making you come? It was a conversation you didn’t want to get in the middle of but apparently you didn’t have a choice. 

“C’mon, one of us has gotta get you wet and wilder than the other,” Wade had said, walking his fingers along your leg. You’d rolled your eyes.

“I like fucking you both, boys. Can we finish watching Australia now?”

“That means it’s me,” Wade had whispered, and Logan hadn’t wanted to take that lying down. Well… without you lying down, anyway.

So they took you to the bedroom and tried to make you compare. Fingers, mouths, cocks, all of it; and now your poor cunt might have friction burn. At some point it stopped being who could fuck you better and who could fuck you more, eke orgasm out of orgasm from your exhausted body and have you moaning for it. You’re not sure how they can keep going. How have they got any goddamn cum left in them, you’re sure it’s all over your cunt and abdomen at this point.

When Logan runs a gentle finger between your folds you hiss, part because of the sting and part from delight. You’re so high on a cloud of pleasure you can’t imagine anything else now.

“Look at you baby, you’re a mess…” he sighs, gravelly voice full of affection as he sees the canvas they’ve made of your body. If their skin could hold scars they’d be covered in your scratch marks, your bites, your slaps as you grabbed handfuls of muscle and held on while they fucked you. Wade grabs Logan’s hand and licks the mixture of the three of you off his fingers, humming in contentment.

“Is it too much that I like licking stuff? I did it in the period sex one too, is it becoming an endearing habit, or…?”

“If the two of you still have a point to prove, why don’t you fuck each other?” you chuckle, trying to get comfortable on the mattress and only succeeding at having another squirt of come drip from your hole.

Their eyes lock over your body. You’ve set a challenge neither will back down from, and when Logan goes in for a fierce kiss Wade meets it with vigour.

“Good grief…” you chuckle, moving onto your side to watch them go at each other. You’ll enjoy not being the centre of the show for a while.

[arc-misadventures]

I don't know why, but I'm enjoying the thought of Coco and Jaune being bros.

99% Lesbian

Blake: Coco!

Yang: Hey, Coco!

Coco: Yes?

Blake: We need your help

Coco: My help? Well, first off: Stop wearing all black. Add more colour to you apparel; I recommend purples, golds, and perhaps some deep blues. I think those colours would really make you 'pop!' Otherwise you look like a poorly dressed goth girl hipster. And no, you do not look like a goth girl the way you are dressed, and most certainly a sexy goth girl.

Blake: That's not 1hat...

Yang: No. No, take notes you could use a make over.

Blake: Hey!

Yang: But, no this isn't fashion related!

Coco: It isn't? Then what the hell do you two want help with me, you utter fashion slobs!

Blake: Hey!

Yang: I know it's true that, Blake dresses like a slob!

Blake: Hey?!

Yang: But, does that include me too?

Coco: Only two people in this entire school have any sense of woman's fashion, and neither of them are you.

Yang: Who?!

Blake: Yeah, who?!

Coco: Jaune Arc.

Blake: Jaune?

Yang: Him, really?

Coco: He has seven sisters, he knows plenty about woman's fashion.

Blake: So you say...

Yang: Who's the other person?

Coco: Glynda Goodwitch.

BY: ...

Blake: I'm not going to argue against that.

Yang: She's drop dead gorgeous, what else do we need to say?

Coco: So, what do you need help with?

Yang: We need to help settle a bet.

Coco: A bet?

Yang: Yeah, Ruby said you weren't gay, and that you were in fact, bisexual. We called bullshit, she said it was true, so we made a bet on whether or, not you are actually gay.

Blake: So, are you bisexual?

Coco: No I'm not bisexual.

Blake: Ha!

Yang: I knew it!

Coco: But, I'm not... 100% a lesbian.

Blake: Eh?

Yang: Beg pardon?

Coco: I'm 99% lesbian, but I am 1%... straight...

Blake: You're 1% straight...?

Yang: So... you are bisexual?

Coco: No... I love woman 99% of the time. But, 1% of the time... I'm straight... exclusively for, Jaune...

BY: For, Jaune?!

Coco: For, Jaune.

Yang: How are you attracted to, Jaune? He's... he's...

Blake: He's, Jaune!

Yang: I was going to say a guy, but that's true.

Coco: Gods, does everyone have to pick on my, 'If I had to pick a dude?' He's a great guy, a bit of a goofball sure, and a dunce. But, he is a really nice guy once you get to know him.

Blake: And, because you know, Jaune so well he becomes the 1%?

Coco: Well, there's also the fact that he is the only person I can discuss fashion with; he has great taste, and has even convinced me to wear a helmet as part of my fashion assemble. I just started to enjoy being around with him. So the intrusive thought of us... 'mingling' just popped up. So, I'm 99% a lesbian, and 1% straight for, Jaune.

Blake: Oh, that makes sense. Somehow...?

Yang: So... did we win the bet?

Blake: We didn't bet anything, so we could call it a draw if we wanted to. Right?

Coco: I'd call it a dra...

Jaune: Coco!

Coco: Hey, Bunny Boy, what's up?

Blake: Bunny boy?

Jaune: I found another helmet you could wear! Only this time if completely covers your head, which of course would make it that it doesn't go with your current outfits design. But, that does mean you have to choreograph an entire wardrobe to fit the helmet. Of which, honestly sounds fun to do on it's on.

Coco: Oh-ho-ho~! Really now? Okay, show me this helmet you're so confident about?

Jaune: Tada~!

Coco: ...

Coco: Holy shit...

Jaune: You like it?

Coco: This is a old helmet, so I would have a more detailed lion head, and mane. The colours would definitely involve more gold, maroon, and crimsons.

Jaune: Red, and caramel browns, with complementary cream whites?

Coco: Oh that sounds perfect! Colours aside, what would this outfit entail?

Jaune: Boot's that are at least knee height...

Coco: High heels?

Jaune: Oh, but of course. Next should... Hmmm... Oh no...

Coco: What is it?

Jaune: Nora pulled a, Nora again. I'm sorry I gotta go. Shall we continued this discussion later?

Coco: No problem, Love. Have fun~!

Jaune: See you later, Mocha!

Coco: Hmmm... Should the face mask be a copy of my face, or should it be a generic face?

BY: ...

Coco: ...

Coco: What?

Yang: 'No problem, Love?'

Blake: You sure it's just 1%?

Coco: ...

Coco: Maybe... 10%...?

Yang: Coco's bisexual, but only for, Jaune.

Blake: Agreed.

Coco: ...

Coco: That's fair...

[ettawrites]

Could you make genin Naruto, Sasuke, Gaara, Rock Lee and Neji x reader who is their crush and they end up having to fight reader in the chunin exam?

Yessss, yes I will 😊

Fighting Them During The Chunin Exam

A/N: half of this was written with writers blocks the other half was written when I was high, so don’t judge the quality okay 😊

Naruto

- One by one you both watched as everyone was drawn. When it was just down to four of you, Naruto prayed he would get Kiba

- You both gave a side eye when you were the last opponents

- Oh fucking shit

- He was actually a bit (really) mad, protesting that he could not fight you because you were a friend but when the only response was fight or surrender he bit the inside of his cheek

- “Friend”… yuh uh, he means totally smitten to the point he feels like a dog

- But he couldn’t surrender, not when he was this close to getting his chunin but he didn’t know where you guys would stand after it

- When you reassured him this is just how it was supposed to be and said you’d be honoured to fight him, he only frowned and scratched his head.

There he stood, across from you on this dirty cement floor and he was mesmerized on how you could just smile.

“This gotta be a joke, can you just redraw?” He asked the , displeased evident.

“There’s nobody to draw from, you both are the last opponents,” he irked, finding Naruto’s stupidly uncharming.

“Naruto it’s fine, let’s just do this, I’m hungry,” You slumpt, anxious to get this over with.

- he went easy at the start, only throwing kunais and he played defence

- When he realized you weren’t going easy, he was caught off guard as you punched him right in the face

- He stumbled, looking at you with somehow even more admiration

- Then he got serious and the fight really started

- You lost, but some part of you kind of anticipated it

- You were sprawled out on the floor, head pounding from the attack and you were honestly just so tired from the forest

- When you surrendered he felt relieved, he didn’t know how much longer he could take fighting you

- He ran over to you, he wasn’t happy with the win

- He apologized over and over, helping you up and taking you to the infirmary

- He was so glad you guys were still friends, you meant so much to him

- Totally just friends

- He takes you out for ramen after

- He still is on edge for quite some time, he makes excuses why he can’t train with you and he definitely won’t rough house like you guys use too

——

Sasuke

- king of looking like he doesn’t give a shit

- He does

- He’s literally panicking internally and in private probably bites his nails from anxiety

- He thinks he’s anxious to fight you, that has to be it? Out of everyone you are most worthy to him potential wise

- He’s lying to himself, he doesn’t wanna believe that he’s scared to fight you because you mean a lot to him

- He’ll avoid you for the month of training and when you come to confront him about it he’s eerily upset

“We’re not friends, I am getting my chunen license even if it means hurting you,” he says, stopped inside his door frame as he watches you fold your arms over your chest.

“So that’s it, friendship over because of a silly competition?” You respond, you knew sasuke was aloof and stubborn, but really?

“We never were friends,” he replied, as casual as one could and he hated the way your eyes got glossy. He watched you leave, regretting it but he won’t take it back.

- you were nervous, standing in the podium as the crowd was watching you

- Sasuke wasn’t here yet, which you’d hope he wouldn’t show up at all

- You were a bit annoyed as he spawned in with kakashi, trying to be ‘cool’

- He was surprised when you actually put up a fight, a good one too

- But also kind of proud

- He did not go easy on you, at all and was definitely being yelled at by Naruto on the stands

- he won, by default as you had passed out and could not continue to fight

- He wanted to check on you, instead lurking outside your door and kinda of just shuffling around

- He’ll ask the nurses if you’re okay, but he won’t dare go in already knowing he’s fucked up your guys friendship

——

Gaara

- low key you were shitting your pants cause WHATT???

- You saw what that boy did to Rock Lee, and now you have to fight him?

- He on the other hand doesn’t care, but the more it gets closer to the fight he starts feeling uneasy

- He’s… what they refer to as a monster? So why is he kind of concerned for this nobody wannabe?

- He had sat beside you during the first test, intrigued by you

- Your the first person that has ever smiled at him so.. genuinely

- And now he has to fight you? A big part of him was set on absolutely destroying you to stop this uneasiness in his chest

- I mean, he didn’t even know if he had a gentle bone in his body, all he knows how to do is ruin things

“You…” his cold voice came, you were walking home in the dusk from the ramen shop after hanging out with Naruto.

“Uh.. yeah? Hey?” You responded, confused and a bit anxious as you stuffed your hands in your pockets. He came closer, a blank look on his face.

“Forfeit,”

“Huh?”

“Forfeit the fight, I will kill you,” He explained, blinking so casually as he watched your complexed reaction.

- he, in his own scary way, was trying to warn you that he could not control himself

- He was kind of happy when you got his underlying message.. you really were different

- You forfeited privately, to your sensei who completely understood

- Gaara was grateful when the next night Baki had told him his opponent had changed

——

Rock Lee

- When you were paired with him for the semi finals he had frowned

- He apologized to Neji and his sensei

- Both were very confused

- He had that cute little ‘hmpf’ look on his face with an even cuter pout as he walked down the steps

- When he came face to face to you you saw this look in his eyes

- Both of you didn’t say anything when the ref asked if anyone wanted to forfeit before he called fight

You braced, drawing your Kunai when the fight began. Rock Lee raised his hand, looking like his traditional taijustu pose.

“I cannot fight you (y/n)! Please forgive me I forfeit,” he yelled, clasping his hands together and falling to his knees before you in a bow.

“…wha…?” You deadpanned, uneased by how loud he had just shouted that. He looked up, seriousness written all over him.

- You guys didn’t talk until after everyone had battled, finding him hiding from you behind the tree outside

- He slumped as you yelled at him

- He let you rant before he started his own ramble, explaining how he couldn’t fight you

- He would never lay a hand on you, it was against his ninja way

- His eyes started to water and his top lip twitched, clearly upset

- You rolled your eyes and went to go get ice cream with him

——

Neji

- you guys were paired to fight for the finals

- He was stubborn and if you’re a girl.. low key sexist about it

- He thinks he’s being a gentlemen but absolutely obliterating you with ‘facts’

- King of backhanded compliments

- But what he doesn’t know is you started to train with a really powerful sensei who was travelling through the village and offered to help you

- Throughout the whole month training time he was focusing on his fighting, but you were on the back of his mind

- He knew he wanted to win, but he also knew he didn’t want to hurt you either nor ruin your relationship

- So he spent a lot of late nights trying to figure out ways he could knock you out as quick and painless as possible

- This was all internally and completely private to him, he never expressed any weakness on the outside

- He was pretty confident in himself

- When the fight began and he realized.. you were actually catching him off guard he was perplexed

“I don’t-… how?” He coughed up blood, knees weak as he swayed to try and stay up right. You frowned, he hated that.

“I’m not weak Neji, don’t underestimate your opponent. You don’t know me,” Those words were said in order to hurt him, he had ruined your patience with his opinion of you.

“I.. thought I did,” he pondered, eyes lost.

- you gave the final blow to him and he was carried away to infirmary

- When he awoke he stared up at the ceiling for a long time after, feeling his wounds and thinking he deserved the pain for how much he took your abilities unseriously

- He vowed to never make you feel inferior to him and started to rekindle your friendship in hopes he didn’t ruin his chance

——

[meanbossart]

Do you have any tips for drawing DU drow? i really like there face composition ( i think that's the word? ) and want to try to take a swing at drawing them myself!

Oh boy, I can try!

Here's some faces I doodled really quickly and split from the guidelines so you can kind of see the process. The main thing you gotta remember with him is that his bone structure may be strong, but his features themselves are fairly Small. Small eyes, small nose, small mouth - I think that's what gives him that "cute guard dog" look that folks seem to like so much. Also while his brow-bone juts out a bit, the rest of his face is fairly Flat.

His skin has a brownish-gray tone as a base and is supposed to be very reflective. Usually, this means it has a blueish hue as highlight, but depending on the environmental light that color could honestly be anything. I take a lot of liberties with this and just strive to give his skin a "bejeweled look". I also apply some red patchiness throughout most of his body, but it really stands out around his eyes and ears the most.

I've changed how I draw his face a little since I started doing bg3 art, he used to have thicker eyebrows, different lips, and a more "herculean" face in general, but it just wasn't giving me the look I wanted. These are roughly the "guidelines" I follow for him currently.

And of course his very annoying chest and arm scars LOL I frequently get these wrong myself so I don't ever expect art of it by others to recreate it 1:1. Mind you that these are supposed to follow the curves of his body, which is why they may look weirdly straight here.

The ones around his wrists are also completely improvised every time I draw them, so they don't have any kind of set pattern that I follow at all.

Hope this was helpful!

[ericshoney]

Accident~ Brothers!Sturniolo Triplets

Summary: You loved to colour anything but accidentally ruin one of Nick's Space Camp designs.

Warnings: shouting, crying, angst with a happy ending

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were a very tame three year old. You never really got into trouble, sometimes loud, but never troublesome. You also loved being close to your brothers and loved being in LA with them, which is where you are right now.

You sat at the table colouring some pictures that Chris got you, your brothers were filming a stream in Matt's room but said if you needed anything to get them, as your parents had gone out for a bit to explore LA.

You then saw a piece of paper, which you thought was free to use, so you grabbed it and started drawing all over it, not realising it was a new design for Space Camp.

"Hey kiddo!" Chris exclaimed, as he walked in, closely followed by Nick and Matt.

"Hi! Look!" You replied just as cheery, showing him the pictures you coloured.

"Look amazing, sweetheart." Matt said, softly kissing your forehead.

"Then I draw this!" You added, showing them the drawing you did.

"That looks coo-" Nick began, but froze as he saw the designs on the back.

He quickly took the piece of paper from you and looked, seeing you had drawn all over his new designs for his meeting in a week.

"You not like?" You questioned.

"These are my new Space Camp designs." He said.

"Can't you actually use your brain for once kid! Look at what you've done!" He shouted.

"Hey calm down, she didn't know." Matt said.

"Of course she did! It's obvious these are new designs!" Nick responded.

"You always mess up! Always gotta colour something! This was for a new line and you completely ruined it!" He continued.

You frowned and felt tears in your eyes, none of your brothers had shouted at you before.

"I sorry." You said quietly.

"Dude, back off." Chris said, tugging the eldest back.

You ran to Matt's room since it was the closest and curled up on his bed, crying into the pillows. Both Matt and Chris looked at Nick.

"Bro, she's three." Chris said, disappointed with his brother.

"She ruined something big for me." Nick tried to defend, but the guilt was already setting in.

"She couldn't tell. You also left it out for anyone to use, what if I accidentally wrote a list on it?" Matt called.

"I....I fucked up, didn't I?" Nick asked, both Chris and Matt nodded.

"Yeah dude, again, she's three. She can't always tell what's right and wrong." Chris answered.

"You go cool down and we'll calm her, then you talk to her when your ready to apologise." Matt said.

Nick nodded and went to cool down in his room for a bit. An hour later you had calmed down, not crying anymore as you sat with Chris and Matt watching Looney Tunes. There was a soft knock on the door and Nick poked his head in.

"Can I come in?" He asked.

Matt nodded as you curled up to Chris more, scared he would shout again. Nick frowned and came over, kneeling on the floor.

"Hey sweetheart, I'm really sorry for shouting at you. I didn't mean it and I'm sorry I scared you." He apologised.

"Accident." You mumbled.

"I know, kiddo, it was an accident and I was a horrible big brother by shouting and blaming you for something you didn't fully understand. I got you something as a sorry." He said.

Nick then pulled out a Taz stuffed animal. You smiled as you reached for it, making him smile a bit.

"Thank you." You whispered.

"Your welcome and I'm sorry again." He replied.

You smiled and hugged the eldest triplet, making Matt and Chris smile, knowing things are okay now.

[ckret2]

Which are you personally going with for the obviously-3D pictures of Billy wearing sneakers: a) Billy in Sneakers is just a translation of one cute thing to a more 3D friendly cute thing, or b) We don't actually know how the second dimension works and it's wrapped and tangled in an incomprehensible and impossible to parse way that we limited beings shall never fully understand but which allows for sneakers? I could see you going either way tbh

God that's no contest, option A all the way. I've been working option A in every drawing I've made of Bill's dimension for well over a year. Option B's needlessly complicated for no benefit in a way that contradicts the lore we already have and that would open up a whole bunch of unnecessary cans of worms.

Bill all but says he's visually "translating" the image for our benefit. And we already know from Exwhylia in Journal 3 that Alex is well-versed in how physics & vision work in Flatland, and J3 heavily implied that Exwhylia is similar to Bill's home dimension. Sure, Bill says you'd need psychedelic food poisoning to fully understand his world, but the J3 Exwhylia page makes very clear that even if a human can see the lines that make up a world like his and understand intellectually what they represent, that doesn't mean you'd actually make sense of what you see��which accounts for Bill's claim just fine.

Combine that with all the themes Bill's universe borrows from Flatland (inability for normal people to see "up," a very conformist society, a plot based around one enlightened character futilely trying to teach the people around him about the third dimension, etc), and there's absolutely no good reason not to think his world's design is passably similar to Flatland or Exwhylia.

So, why do we all draw baby Billy and his family like this

instead of accurate to a Flatland-style 2D universe like this?

Because that ain't cute. rigid fidelity to the lore is less important than good storytelling and that means if you want to show your audience (i.e., us real people) how cute Bill was as a baby, you've gotta say "fuck it" to the lore and draw a cute triangle. Not draw a lore-accurate line and say "if you were a Euclidean that would look sooo cute to you, trust me bro." Making it actually look cute is what we all do as fanartists, and it's what the artists did in The Book of Bill.

Anyway who says his dimension needs to be some bizarre incomprehensible thing in order for him to wear sneakers? There's nothing stopping him from wearing squeaky sneakers in an accurate Flatland-style 2D universe. They'd just be built different. His shoes would look like an outline around his foot. Here, have an accurate Flatland-style 2D baby Bill (top down view) (with a squeaker in his sneaker)

I even kept the baseballs on his shoes.

[roxirinart]

Aventurine... You've Gotta Hand It To Him

An in-depth analysis of Aventurine's hands and why they're critical to his character.

Was asked if I could post this (VERY LONG) analysis I made all about Aventurine's hands - niche, perhaps, but I love him very much and he has a LOT of focus placed on his hands in almost every aspect of his story/design! I think it makes for a really neat insight into his character. Let’s go! 2K words or so so we're under a 'read more', folks :P Hope someone finds it interesting :)

Content warning for (very brief mentions of) sexual theming and violence.

I MIGHT be reaching with some of this but I tried to make sure everything was in order, so if there are any inaccuracies lmk! I'm Always on the lookout for more valuable Avencheem lore 😋

The Avgin - Culture and Symbolism

Kakavasha was born 'blessed' with unnaturally good luck by the Avgin goddess, Gaiathra Triclops, who is often depicted as a left palm with three eyes upon it. If we assume that therefore, someone’s left hand is representative of Gaiathra, then we can draw some interesting conclusions! 

When reciting Gaiathra’s prayer, the typical accompanying gesture is for two participants to put their left palms together while saying it, which - by ‘covering’ Gaiathra’s eyes with each other’s palms, they are (as per the words of the prayer) ‘keeping their schemes forever concealed’.

In the version of Aventurine’s boss form that was removed from the Divergent Universe, he has an attack that changes name for each phase of the fight, as follows:

Phase 1: “Eyes Once Closed for Lies”, 

Phase 2: “Eyes Twice Closed for Trickery”

Phase 3: “Eyes Thrice Closed for Schemes”. 

This suggests that the symbolic act of Gaiathra closing her eyes is blessing the person in question not to have their lies, trickery, or schemes revealed - “I do not perceive it, nor shall anyone else.” This is important to the Avgin, as they seem to have a cultural focus on underhanded methods of achieving their goals, although this was blown greatly out of proportion by prejudice from other Sigonians, and (later) the wider cosmos. The game’s loading screen description of the Avgin is as follows:

“‘Avgin’ means ‘honey’ in the Sigonian language, yet those who irrationally fear Avgins unjustifiably distort the word's meaning to perpetuate Avgin stereotypes that portray them as crafty, smooth-talking, and capricious.”

Sparkle, when talking to Aventurine, also describes the Avgin as “...notorious throughout the entire universe! Liars, thieves, social manipulators, wolves in sheep's clothing... You're really living up to the reputation.”

The Avgin’s reputation as essentially ‘evil’ people, and the clear cultural and religious importance they place upon one’s left hand specifically, can reveal some interesting things about them (and therefore about Kakavasha):

In the real world, the left hand is very commonly considered to be the ‘wrong’ or ‘evil’ hand across many religions and cultures. The word ‘sinister’ (which may be a good descriptor for Aventurine’s behavior, or at least peoples' perception of him given how other characters react to him during the main questline) comes from a Latin word that means ‘on the left side’.

The French word for left, ‘gauche’ was borrowed back into english to mean ‘lacking social grace’ - and with Aventurine’s way of getting all up in peoples’ faces, grandstanding, being provocative, etc., it seems that ‘gauche’ isn’t a bad descriptor for him, either.

In the early 20th century, left-handedness was identified as ‘a biological anomaly, associated with deviancy but something that could be corrected away with behavioral reinforcement’.

Likewise, in the middle ages in England, left-handed people were more likely to be accused of witchcraft and burned at the stake. Sounds familiar when compared to the way Sigonia treated the Avgin - as evildoers, tricksters, backstabbers, etc.,

If the Avgin were so ‘left-handed’ in all senses of the phrase, then… perhaps the ‘behavioral correction’ they received could be justified...?

It is reinforced several times throughout both written lore and during gameplay that the Avgin’s beautiful appearances and high emotional intelligence were a source of jealousy to other clans and races, hence the perpetuation of the Avgin’s negative reputation - one that Aventurine ends up playing into, often intentionally.

Why bother trying to change the stereotype if he can use it to his advantage? Besides, it’s not like getting rid of the Avgins’ negative rep will help them now, anyway.

All this is to say that the concept of hiding your true intentions with your left hand - ‘keeping your cards close to your chest’, ‘bluffing’, ‘having an ace up your sleeve’, knowing when to ‘show your hand’ - is a huge overarching theme for the Avgin, and therefore for Aventurine.

Notice that a LOT of sayings to do with hiding things from others or manipulating people’s impressions of you and what they think you might do come from poker or other card games! I can’t think of any universe where the devs did that by accident. Nice work, devs!

The Left Hand

‘Sleight of hand’ is the name of Aventurine’s game, and he sure knows how to play it. ‘Sleight’ means “the use of dexterity or cunning, especially so as to deceive”, so naturally the suffix ‘- of hand’ brings Aventurine’s hands to the forefront as one of his main tools of the trade!

However, the devs once again outdid themselves - each of Aventurine’s hands is representative of parts of his character in very different ways.

Everything about Aventurine is designed to cleverly divert attention away from his real thoughts and feelings.

I’ll get the obvious out of the way: Aventurine’s left hand (as previously discussed) is critically important to his character. It represents so many things for him both visually and otherwise.

If you’re a regular Aventurine enjoyer it’s likely you know about his habit of hiding his left hand behind his back when he’s nervous or making a big (or life-threatening) gamble - but why?

He’s specifically hiding Gaiathra’s hand. I don’t think it’s a coincidence; Aventurine - by hiding away what is essentially a physical representation of his goddess - is ‘closing her eyes’, so he cannot be seen through (even if it’s purely subconscious).

He wants people locked onto his gaze and away from the hand he’s clutching Gaiathra’s ‘blessing’ of good luck so tightly with. (Note: the ironic nature of Aventurine’s relationship with his cursed blessing isn’t lost on me, but that’s another day’s essay. :))

This habit of hiding his left hand behind his back is (once you’re looking for it) very common in the majority of his animations, art, cinematics, and other various media, like in his character trailer when he’s about to reveal the result of his big dice roll; in a specific animation during his bossfight, where he’s actively banking on losing so he can carry out his ‘grand death’ (‘clutching his chips for dear life’, as his future self put it…); the idle animation where he’s fidgeting with one of his poker chips; or in the ‘Final Victor’ light cone, where he is playing russian roulette with his own life just to prove a point to Dr. Ratio (which was a little excessive, perhaps…).

Usually, having a hand behind your back is considered to be suspicious: you’re hiding something, perhaps a weapon.

And for Kakavasha, out of fear and knowing it’ll give him the upper hand, he hides his own weapon behind his back: the physical representation of all his schemes, strategies, lies, trickery, and tactics - and the last Avgin palm to touch another’s.

Perhaps in relation to his particularly strong connection with Gaiathra, Aventurine is also left-handed! Evidence? Sure!

As a general ‘fashion rule’ (and for practicality), wristwatches are worn on the non-dominant hand, and someone as fashion-conscious as Aventurine would very likely be aware of this. His watch is on his right wrist.

Additionally, he wears no rings on his left hand because writing or similar activities would be a pain to do with that much jewelry on. Further evidence can be found in this phone wallpaper of him released by Hoyoverse: he’s holding his phone with his left hand, and people usually operate their phones with their dominant hand. Similarly, in one of the many videos on the Hoyoverse YouTube channel (I’m sorry I don’t know which one it’s from), he goes to grab his tablet off the bedside table with his left hand, too.

The Right Hand

Aventurine’s character is, at its core, is all about defense. Protecting himself from harm, shielding his thoughts and feelings from others, creating an impenetrable barrier of flashy clothing and fake smiles to conceal his true self - this all presents in his moveset in battle, too.

He’s a preservation-class, shield-providing character. The critical thing to note is this: his defense all happens on the right hand. This includes his skill (throwing out chips with his right hand to shield his teammates), and his technique, which generates an additional shield for the team before the start of battle. 

His right hand ‘shields’ him both literally and metaphorically in this sense. He wears all his rings on his right hand, because that’s the hand he wants you to focus on, the pretty, sparkly one with all the flashy jewelry and expensive wristwatch, the one that’s extended for you to shake (he shakes with his right hand), the only part of him most people get to touch. A part of the body furthest away from his heart, dazzling and defensive.

The outermost, superficial layer.

It’s the hand that more often performs captivating little coin tricks out in the open to catch people’s attention, keeping them focused on something that’s within his control, because so much of his life isn't.

On The Attack

Here’s the kicker though - this makes his left hand the attacking hand. When push comes to shove (or when he feels he needs to strike first), Aventurine lashes out with Gaiathra’s hand.

As mentioned before, his weapons are his schemes, his secrets, his tricks, his lies - and the hand holding all those chips so tightly is his left, the lucky hand, the one that has brought him success and saved his life time and time again.

Ultimately, it all comes down to relying on his raw luck to push him through (whether he's happy about that or not) when all his other methods of attack have been stripped away - and his hand trembles, because having to make a blind bet that his goddess (who did nothing to stop his family being massacred, yet is both cruel and benevolent enough to keep him alive) will save him yet again must be really fucking terrifying.

When Your Hands Are Tied...

Looking at both hands together, a design choice which I believe to be deliberate is the way he has bracelets of some variety over both his wrists. It’s a subtle imitation of manacles; he may have escaped his iron ones, but Aventurine now lives in golden handcuffs instead, bound by social shackles instead of physical ones.

He’s still a slave - just not in the traditional sense.

To my understanding (someone please correct me if I'm wrong, his timeline has some annoying gaps in it even though I tried very hard to figure it out ;-;), technically Aventurine legally belongs to the IPC.

He killed his most recent owner and so escaped his that particular ownership, sure, but when he barters with Jade, he asks her to pay him the ‘remainder of his market value’, which insinuates that it would therefore give him ownership of himself.

However, Jade doesn’t simply hand over the money: she pulls him into a job contract - a new form of imprisonment - without ever giving him real legal autonomy, never officially declaring him a free man. His hands are invisibly tied - bound by corporate and social 'manacles' to his job.

"Out, Damned Spot!"

Speaking of manacles, let’s talk about the ‘Hunger Games’, shall we?

Kakavasha is, at some indeterminate point, entered into a spectator sport where he is forced to fight thirty-four other slaves to the death.

It is mentioned that he has no other weapon than the bindings on his wrists and the chain between them - and he emerges ‘victorious’ (physically the victor... perhaps not mentally or emotionally, though).

In the quest notes during Aventurine’s (literal) trip through the maze while he’s making his way to the stage for his grand finale, he describes himself with the word ‘murderer’, showing that he’s clearly distraught by what happened and resents himself for it. 

Following on from this, a possible interpretation of the design choice to have Aventurine wear gloves is for him to (figuratively) hide the blood on his hands.

Aventurine’s gloves simultaneously create a literal barrier between himself and the world, and work as another piece of fancy clothing to add to his impenetrable, sparking defense. The closest match I could find to the style of Aventurine’s gloves are short dress gloves or wrist gloves, which are specifically fashion items as opposed to practical ones.

(As a cheeky little aside, the absolute closest style match I could find for his gloves are latex or leather womens’ gloves most commonly used in BDSM, which is fun! Maybe I’m reaching, but I like to think it’s a subtle way of making him more effeminate - and in Aventurine’s case, therefore a subtle call to his sexuality imo - and also another little detail to help push his ‘provocative’ appearance and demeanor.)

Conclusion

Our hands are how we interact with the world. In Aventurine’s case, they’re how he keeps the world pushed as far away from himself as possible, all the while gripping onto his ‘good luck’ for dear life.

Aventurine’s hands are his weapons, his shield, his faith, his fear, and his guilt, decorated with jeweled rings and bound in golden handcuffs.

Ultimately, when Aventurine offers to lend a hand to the Trailblazer, when he shows Sunday his hand (and a bit more besides) during their meeting, and when he forces Acheron’s hand during his bossfight, it's so that his own hands are free to do whatever he needs to orchestrate his greatest scheme yet...

...for better or worse.

[plleeeepppyyyy]

being wally’s newest friend!

(i love this arg and hopefully it gets more pickup in the near future!! especially love wally, silly little guy.)

♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎♥︎

(i love this arg and hopefully it gets more pickup!! especially love wally, silly little guy.)

basically you moved into the neighborhood and wally takes notice. and is infatuated.

warnings,, wally has some tendencies of being a yandere?? possessiveness, gaslighting, possible love-bombing, kidnapping. house pretty much indulges on wally’s behavior. i actually don’t have much about house in this writing, sorry!!.,,(;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) also a little short,,?

reader is g/n. (gender neutral)

what glances see first. :)

__

so! you’re the new neighbor, no matter how new you are, as said, you’re still an important denizen. pretty much everyone’s gotta be talkin about you, the first one to greet you though is wally, ofc. ♡︎

at first he seems a bit zoned out? chilled out? by the tone of his usual voice and his facial expression,, you probably think he’s zooted up. but nope, that’s just how he is. he’s pretty friendly when it comes to you, he greets you, tells you all about the neighborhood, and is overall hopeful.

a good charmer too, despite his tone at first and such that made you doubt it, there’s still a way to find this man charming. i mean cmon,, look at his fashion sense, that laidback expression, he definitely looks like he has it all figured out. if you want, he’d gladly show you around the neighborhood. helping you socialize with your new neighbors, despite his short answers and such, he’s still helpful.

after this good greeting, you seem him around all of the time. with barnaby, julie, or just anyone. it could take a bit before you guys get talking normally too, whether you have trouble taking at times or whatnot. you guys get on fine, he’s a pretty likable person.

little did you know, he was the one staring mostly.

___

the friendship within, ❤︎︎

__

when you guys are pretty good friends, he tends to show you his paintings, and art. which are impressive and cute, he offers to draw with you. and definitely likes your company, he also shows you, “house”! which is an actual legit living object, it’s a bit weird. but, ignoring that aside,,. it’s a swell time hanging around with wally. especially if you got barnaby, or one of the others around. it creates a good dynamic.

he likes hanging around with you all of the time, whether it’s doing the most or just sitting around with you. wally really enjoys the simplicity of things, especially if it’s with you.

wally is overall a nice and sweet guy to you, charming at times. he’s definitely the guy to have around, whenever you have issues and need some assistance, he’s gladly ready to help! whether it’d be a simple thing like, deciding an outfit, he’ll help you out. (listen to this man with fashion sense, he’s got a hella good one. (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ )

he’s mostly nice all of the time, but sometimes he does get a bit blunt at times. usually to others or you, which he quickly takes back. it’s strange.. but friendship with wally is worth it!

he’s an interesting little fella to have around.

__

the strange thing about this.

___

around later into your guys’ friendship, you take notice of how wally is getting a bit clingier? he definitely hangs around you more, definitely more touchy. like, before he sometimes puts an arm around you, but barely he would be touching you. now though, he always finds a way to touch you. (not like that ofc,,)

he for sure takes you around and brings you around his house more, in some way he sorta isolates you from the other. he insists on you being around him 24/7.

like cmon, forget those other guys,, we can have fun on our own, together.

is what he would definitely say, he’s a bit passive aggressive when it comes to others. it should only be you and him hanging out, house insists! and house knows most, so why won’t you just stay around him?

during this period, he for sure compliments you more. like, how you’re the most to him, you’re great at drawing, doing this, that.. of course he would hype his best friend up!

he tends to give you little trinkets too. whether it’s stuff he makes, or anything he finds and just thinks, “yep, they would love this, i want them to have this.”

he feels a bit threatened whenever he sees you hanging around anyone, it doesn’t matter if it’s barnaby, frank, eddie, he just doesn’t like it when his bff isn’t paying attention to him! (ง'̀-'́)ง

sometimes he rants to house about how you don’t pay attention to him enough, and house said some good advice. so of course, he would listen to house. he starts giving you stuff, showering you in compliments, even though, it still doesn’t work.

he just adores you too much! don’t you adore him too?

why won’t you just stay with him? why can’t you just focus all on him.

he does it for you, so why can’t you the same?

he just wants to be your bestest friend ever.

____

__

stay with him. ♥︎

_

this period of your relationship definitely heightens.

wally has this great idea, from house’s help ofc. that you should live with the two of them, like roommates! just without you finding out. (yeah he kidnaps you, basically.. uh)

once you wake up, he definitely is happy. and reassures you, that you’ll be with him 24/7 now, it’s like a forever sleep over, ain’t that sweet? even if you’re freaking out, he’s patient, it must be because you’re excited!

he can’t just stay in this house alone, he needs you. he assures you that he’ll always be with you.

he’s not so sure to let you out of the house though, can’t have his bff leave and run. nor does he want you lonely, so he barely leaves the house too. when he does go out, he assures everyone that you’re just sick, sad, or need some comfort.

that’s what friends do, they’re there for each other. so, he makes sure everyone doesn’t worry that much for you. after all, you’re in good hands with wally!

that’s what at least they think, wally doesn’t give you much free will. unless he’s there ofc, best friends have to do everything together.

he still showers you in compliments and gives you stuff, but he does reach limits. if you’re too angry or crabby with him, he does have to make sure you’re not anymore!

whether that’d be locking you in a room, so you can just let it all out. or just keeping you near him, but tied up. just so you don’t hurt yourself on accident.

if you’re crying, he won’t let you be. he’ll hold you, usher and coo to you that you’re fine, he’s here. he’ll never leave.

but that’s the thing, he never will. even if you’re in the other room, the looming thing that hovers you is that he’s just waiting for you. he won’t let you go. and that’s the scariest thing possible.

so, you just have to endure the near thought of him by you everyday now. even if you don’t see him, you’ll hear him talk to house, or sing. you can’t escape, anything you do, he’ll stay.

but that’s the charm, no matter what wally will be there for you. you’re his dearest friend, well besides house. he can’t just abandon you, your his and he’s yours. the bestest friends forever, even if the others did find out wally’s true intentions, it’s not like they can’t stop him. right?

well, they’re far from that.

if he’s stuck here; he might as well be stuck here with you.

his dearest friend, the one he truly loves and cherishes.

he loves you, takes care of you, so,

why won’t you just stay for him?

if he would do it, you’d do it too,

wouldn’t you? ❤︎︎

_________________

literally this is my first time writing on here, so sorry if it’s a bit weird! also first time writing wally,, soooo yeah again sorry if he seems out of touch or smth. (╥_╥)

but this was really fun to write, i literally love this arg and this silly funky dude. i might write more for this fandom, since i love it, def need some ideas.

arg by _PartyCoffin_ on twitter and tumblr!!

(pls support them and this arg, it’s underrated as of now at least,,)

[canadianno]

TCOLC AU Bishop refs!

They're done holy FUCK. The art here is kind of old, so some of the proportions are a little wrong, but I don't really mind all that much. 15 hours and 89 layers later, all 5 bishops are done. On one canvas because... I didn't wanna make new ones I'm ngl.

Each bishop has an everyday outfit and a crusade outfit! If you're drawing them at any point (now or in the future) and you have questions about the designs, don't be scared to send an ask my way, I'm always happy to clarify stuff.

(Note: I would greatly appreciate it if people didn't make suggestive jokes surrounding any of the designs, I'm not comfortable with them! Love yall <3)

Ramblings below! Edited note: tumblr likes to completely break my posts when I add a cut sometimes, which happened here, so I'm not gonna put one in hopes that it doesn't kill my formatting again. Hopefully it automatically "read more"s this post. If it doesn't I'm very sorry 🙏

🌿 Leshy: It's to be noted that my Leshy is transmasc, literally just because I think he deserves it, it's cool as fuck. I really wanted to give him the classic top-surgery scars because, I'll be honest, they're fun to draw, but I had to find a reasonable explanation for it because he's not a mammal. Anyway that's how I ended up with an entire evolutionary explanation for why he would have those. I will never be given the chance to explain it in the fic ever, so it shall just be random information I have forever. I love him he's silly.

🍄 Heket: While I am a big supporter of tomboy Heket, I also think she deserves to be cool and wear pretty frills whenever the fuck she wants. She's awesome and her shirt is supposed to look like a mushroom. It's also worth noting that the crosses on the bishops heads are specific, with Heket having two crosses with double prongs. She has them like this in-game and there's probably a cooler explanation for it but. I have my own silly headcanons bc I do what I want! Also, since I can't decide for the fucking life of me if she's a toad or a frog, I've decided she's just. Both. Both of them. Her mom was a frog her dad was a toad. Is this possible irl? No but COTL is a fantasy world I do whatever the fuck I want.

🌑 Narinder: Main thing I note for Narinder is that he has distinct facial markings, you just have to look closely. Another note is that his clothes have a repeating cloud motif because of the fog in the gateway- which, trust, it was his own idea. Lamb doesn't know why he chose it but they're not gonna argue. Narinders' main robes are made of wool, but his crusade outfit is made of cotton so it's easier to repair if damaged. His crusade outfit has the Big Pants because he's mostly gotta fight with his feet now, since most of the time his hands don't function reliably enough to hold a weapon.

🪸 Kallamar: Kallamar is funny to me because he's the only one here who's plantigrade, meaning he's got human-esque legs. Another notable design aspect is that he has a tail, when squids do Not Normally Have Those. That's because my Kallamar isn't fully a squid, and you can kinda sorta blame my mutual for that. Not really it's me who gave him the tail. Anyway, no matter how you draw him or what outfit he's in those 3 dark red jewels on the golden chain thing gotta be on him somewhere- they're sentimental to him. He usually wears them as a crown, but in the crusade outfit they're around his neck to be safer. Also, on the crusade outfit, he has stolen a set of Shamuras gloves. Brat little brother <3

🔮 Shamura: Their main outfit really closely resembles their bishop robes and that is intentional! They made the robes themselves, and it would've been close to an exact match had the Lamb banned them from using golden colored cloth. This is only partially because Lamb doesn't like them, but also because they don't want the bishops trying to start a mutiny, and walking around in bishop robes is a pretty easy way to collect weaker followers like flies. Shamuras' crusade outfit is also pretty unique compared to the others, and one of two reasons is that it's meant to resemble their old crusade outfits when they were younger. The second reason is that they look really cool. The outfit is designed for mobility, mostly, and before you say anything, the hip windows are because Shamura usually holds close range weaponry in the second set of arms and hates the way they snag on fabric when its there.