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torueater · 3 months ago

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⋆ ꩜ ⋆ pairing: artstudent!gojo x artstudent!reader

synopsis: artstudent!gojo doesn't believe in prophetic dreams and all that--in fate (though it does make for a fun love story). he finds himself confused when there's been a recurring face in a few of his recent moments of unconsciousness. of all the background characters, one seems to stick -- he's even more surprised to see that the face in said dreams isn't just one he'd seen in passing when you show up to class as a new transfer.

wc: around 3780 (❁´◡`❁)

content: no explicit content (save for some kissing), art student satoru, art student reader, implied fem reader

a/n: 2nd fic on here !! this was supposed to be a drabble, ended up being extended a little (sort of has drabble vibes still I think). idea came while doing a painting! ᓚᘏᗢ

ArtStudent!Gojo's first attempt at a portrait without direct reference pulls from a face that’d only shown up in a couple dreams of his. The moonlit memory lingers in his mind, one face in particular latched to his hippocampus akin to how a tic would to flesh. How it’s so vivid this time now that he’s out of the state of unconsciousness is beyond him but reaching for the closest medium -- charcoal and his sketch pad feels like muscle memory. Like an incessant itch. This is the first time he can actually remember what dream-girl looks like, he won’t be stupid enough to wait till the image gets a chance to slip away like wisps of smoke in the air.

Charcoal smudges against slender, too-dexterous fingers, tips dusted in black. They press into the material to make rough strokes on the cotton fibers to map out the shape of a head, a nose – gentle slopes, a slightly rounded tip. Ridges and smooth dips of lips he remembers looking too soft even in his mind’s eye. He wonders how they’d dip under the press of his stained fingertips. Satoru doesn’t need to think, feels like sketching her comes as easy as breathing.

It’s rough. It’s rushed – like the image’ll slip from his mind if he takes too long to give it a proper form--the creases between his knuckles are black and temporarily messy with charcoal but… it’s almost angelic looking. Sublime, even. A radiant mirror of whoever the mystery girl is. Even with the image put to paper, he can’t piece together who the face is, where he’d seen her. Logic and a bit of searching tells him it’s possibly someone he’d seen in passing. More than likely someone in a crowd, even a face in a movie that had somehow become a fragment in his memory. There’s the possibility of it meaning someone new is about to enter his life but that one seems more farfetched than anything.

The image clings to his thoughts for the better half of 2 days, pressing into the edges of his mind before ultimately being shoved deeper into the recesses by the weight of more important things he had to worry about. An upcoming exam. A mixed media piece he’s yet to complete even with the nearing deadline. Unfinished sketches to add to his portfolio. He’s been slacking a bit, he knows that much. Knows it won’t take much to get back on track, but still.

There are far better, far more important things to think about, to ruminate on than a mystery girl he had the deep sated urge to keep in a physical form. Not forgotten though. Never that.

ArtStudent!Gojo knows better than to do this shit ever again. The reminder to never ever put his assignments off till he’s all filled with nerves and needing to rush to get them done well is properly cemented in his mind from this point on. He’d damn near crammed assignments into any bit of free time he thought he’d have. Free time his ass. Up till yesterday, a 7 hour energy, his canvas, thick paints and an array of brushes had been his only companions. Paint to fabric, precise even strokes, darkness of the night not stopping the zone he’s settled into. Exhaustion tugs at his eyelids and he’s only aware of having knocked out when the morning sun greets him, bowed into his now dried canvas. “Shit!”

The smudge of paint on the canvas is one thing but he barely has enough time to brush his teeth and to wash the wayward blot of paint off his forehead before he’s bolting out his dorm – nine minutes to get to the art room. The sun is on high by now, colours of the day too bright and sharp for how little sleep he’s running on. His limbs feel all heavy, half groggy as he runs – shoulder knocking into someone else’s hard enough to make them stumble, “Fuck--sorry,” he calls over his shoulder, half hearted, barely looking. A quick flash of her hair, momentary glimpse at her features before he keeps moving.

By the time he makes it to class, the thought is already fading from his mind. He sketches for today, graphite scratching against a Strathmore sheet, switching between mediums for more variation. Black smudges colour pale fingertips, angular cheekbones streaked with the same darkness here and there from moments when he absently rubs at his face or leans into his palm. Only now, settled into the rhythm of his sketching, one singular thought creeps back in from earlier. Huh. He hadn’t gotten a good look but the girl from earlier sort of resembled—

He cuts the thought off with a quiet huff, tilt of his mouth miniscule. As if.

Even the idea itself is stupid. Maybe the hair colour, sure. The side profile, possibly, if he’d gotten a proper look it would be clear. But it’s entirely unlikely. Not that he can be too sure with the rush he’d been in.

But like…maybe?

The side profile—even from that small glimpse—had been fairly similar to- Nope. He cuts the thought off again with a shake of his head, thumb pressing into the grain of the paper to smear out a too rough line. Mind’s just playing tricks on me. He’s not even sure why he’s still thinking about ‘Dream girl’ as he’d coined her. Real creative there.

It’s only 2 days after that where they’re meeting a new face, where he wonders if his mind is playing a game. He’d been halfway through a sketch, hunched over a fresh page of his pad. Just until you’re actually introducing yourself – figures it’d be rude to not have his attention on you the first time you’re meeting.

ArtStudent!Gojo at least tries to gaslight himself into thinking that you don’t look like the girl he’d sketched twice already, flipping back to the page in his sketchbook, glancing between it and you (more the side of your head from how you’re now sat) as you’re briefly introduced to the class. Smile shy, glancing around to give a polite wave–-No way. It does look like you. Maybe a slight difference, a beauty mark somewhere he couldn’t have guessed, the shape of your brows. But besides that? Yeah…it checks out. It’s nothing dramatic, no slo-mo, no cinematic gasp from a live audience. Just you sat in your seat near the front, sketchpad pulled out to catch up on the exercise.

Like sure, he’d hoped to see the person plaguing his thoughts, had joked about it here and there. But to have it coming at him full force and out of the blue like a stray baseball to the face – it’s a bit much.

He’d caught the words transfer student from the professor and not much else. If you’d just transferred, how’d he even know your face well enough to have him dreaming of you? More than once at that?

Flipping to the 2nd fresh page of the day, he lets the charcoal map out the familiar shapes of features he hadn’t drawn in days. Third sketch’s the charm right? It’s easier to get the details almost spot on now that he’s seen you. The placement of the mole on your face, the tilt of your lips when you smile.

He obviously doesn’t bring up the dreams and sketching stuff. Of course he doesn’t. It kind of seems creepy when he thinks on it with a clear head. ArtStudent!Gojo is anything but shy, and he does what he does best in the whirlwind of confusion – acts completely normal. Turns on that effortless charm of his and makes conversation despite the internal mess. You’re as nice as ever and you two are easy friends.

The mystery solves itself soon enough, you having transferred from another course on campus, the likelihood of seeing you not that small with how close the two buildings are. Maybe he’d seen you on his way to class some time. Makes far more sense than this being some fate-driven meeting between you two. How insane would that be?

ArtStudent!Gojo has colour steadily rising up the snowiness of his skin when he’s found himself sketching you again in the comfort of a now empty art room. At least it’s supposed to be empty -- clearly it’s not with you stood behind him scanning the portrait with a grin. Another one of you, number #4.

“It’s like you’ve been studying me.” You’re really, really fucking impressed. A bit in awe. All the angles are right, he’d captured your essence almost perfectly. “Is this the only one?”

He tries to think of a way out of this, an excuse. Maybe saying it isn’t you would work? He knows it won’t because he’s unfortunately apparently blessed with the artistic gift of modern-day Rembrandt and it looks exactly like you. You disregard the lack of response, biting back your rising grin. “Mm, you missed my earrings, though.” You dip a little more into his space, fingers pressed over his lengthy ones, guiding the pencil over to one ear, tracing the shape of a hoop, then the next. “There we go. Now it looks like me.”

You surprisingly…don’t find it weird? Maybe because he’s overly pretty and crazy nice and you don’t get a future stalker vibe from your new snow-haired art buddy (you hope so at least). You’d been friends for about a week or two and you feel like you’d come to trust him far too easily, but he hadn’t exactly made it hard. He’d offered up the sketch and an awkward apology that you’d just laughed at. A request for a portrait in colour is your idea of a better apology. And he agrees, obviously.

Gojo thinks he needs to get a grip. He really, seriously needs to get a grip on himself. It’s been what, 2 months at this point? 2 months and some change at best, and yet he folds so easily to the shape of you. All things you. You smiling at him, you laughing at his stupid jokes and not calling him corny. Not all the time at least. The way light catches in your eyes, the way you handle oil paints like you’re Jan van Eyck himself. You’re so talented, so so talented and kind and he thinks he loves really likes you a lot! As a friend. You guys are friends! #Artbuddies and all that. He at least tries to play it off to himself as an appreciation for beauty, to things that pique his interest. What’s an artist without appreciation for beautiful things, right? He’d grown up on this! Poets bleeding their everlasting love into stanzas, artists pouring their emotions onto blank canvases in a cacophony of colours. Giving love lots of like comes easy to him because he just has so much to give (to you).

Okay. He’s not one to act like a spade isn’t a spade, he knows he has a big ol’ crush on you. The self-gaslighting doesn’t work no matter how hard he’d tried and at this point he finds more use in not deluding himself any longer. He liked you in a not-friendly way, so what? People developed crushes all the time. A crush was fine and it’s not like he’s in love love with you.You’ve given no sign that you feel the same, he doesn’t want to get in too deep.

But you make it so hard. Gojo thinks he may be going a little bit crazy. Thinks he should’ve known he’d been doomed from the start. Completely, irrevocably doomed.

And boy…is he a sucker for it. He’s always been one for the arts, for the idea of romance in poetic forms. One for sappy rom coms, for love letters. For good love stories. To think he’d find himself in one slowly unraveling itself.

It’s the way you exist so effortlessly-- so damn easygoing, completely unbothered by the fact that he’s accidentally (debatable) turned you into his muse. As if this is the most natural thing in the world. Not creeped out but reveling in it, in his attention. Like it isn’t weird at all that his hands know the angles of your face better than his own at this point. It’d never gotten to the point of being creepy, he’d never crossed any lines. You’re over often to sketch together, something about company ‘allowing the creative juices to flow’ or something along those lines. He doesn’t care for the justification, he thinks he’d let you in even if you’d shown up unannounced.

The designated space for art in his off campus apartment is surprisingly spacious, ceiling length windows shielded by equally long curtains that are pulled aside to give a clear view of the ambience of the city at night. Your weight is ever-present against his side, tucked close and watching him sketch. He doesn’t make you feel like a nuisance so you don’t see the point in moving. He’d gone again and left an assignment for last minute and here you were being so great and keeping him company. It’s realism this time, a landscape of some sort that he’s doing finishing touches on using acrylics. It’s nice to see him in his element, funny to see him smear paint on his chin when he forgets he’d used that same finger to quickly blend a spot on the canvas. Just the lightest streaks. “Always messy. Y’got paint all over your face.” An exaggeration of course, there’s a few spots of colour but it’s nothing crazy just yet. A hum is his answer, brushwork still precise. “Messy? Nuh-uh, these are the marks of a true artist.” What was better than telling people you’d just been painting when they see the colours on your flesh, right? Real artist he says, drawing a small laugh from you. Sure.

A hand reaches for his chin to tilt his face to yours, thumb swiping over the streak that doesn’t even shift on his skin. Part of you wants to mom him and just lick your thumb to swipe it off but you think against it, “Dried too quickly. It’s not even budging.” You scrub at it again, completely oblivious to his loosened grip on his brush, his attention fixed solely on you as his thoughts drain at the simplest touch. He snaps out of it when you glance up at him, quick to think of something witty to bridge the silence, own thumb dipping into paint the same shade as that of the blue on his cheek. “It’s okay. We’ll just match.” It’s not that you don’t register what he says but he’s swiping a matching streak along your cheekbone before you can even lean away. “Gojo!” “What? We’re matching! Artist buddies?” Retaliation comes in a line of yellow on his cheek, scampering away from his side because it’s war from that point on.

You’re up and running. One quick—failed—dodge on his part (then yours) and there’s more yellow on his jaw, a green stripe across your forehead. It’s messy, you’re both messy with paint. It’s chaos, stupidly fun. You’re smearing blue fingers near his mouth, spread near his lips.

You’re a squealing mess as you try to dodge him once more you fail, thick corded arm banding around your midsection, free hand moving to smear red on your mouth like lipstick. A contrast to the blue near his own mouth. You suck in a breath, ribs hurting a bit from all the laughing, hands lifted in surrender above where he has you held. “Okay, okay! Truce, white flag!” Your weight presses backward into his chest without thinking too much, catching your breath, still giggling in between. “Truce. You said we’re artist buddies.” Yeah, artist buddies.

ArtStudent!Gojo is so talented, so smart and such a good friend to have…but so very dimwitted at the worst times. You’re not sure if you’re the one to blame here but you’d made your interest clear enough, no? The coming over, touchy nature, always smiling at him? Not crazy clear signs but come on, you were trying here. The sign is as red as ever and basically calling out to him (right now for example!).

Your head tips back onto his chest to look at him and gosh, he’s right there. As handsome as he usually is, heart an unsteady drum against the confines of your ribs that suddenly feels ridiculously loud. Cerulean pools flicker to your red-smeared lips, your own dipping to his ultramarine pair. His gaze is momentary but it’s more than enough for heat to pool in places past the underside of your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Has your heart racing in a way that has nothing to do with your little horseplay from before. You cock a brow in question.

ArtStudent!Gojo is a little tired of dancing around whatever it is between you two, head dipping before he can let himself think too much – ridding himself of the wholly uncharacteristic cowardice of inaction in regards to romance (seemingly only brought about by you.) It’s light, a bump more than anything, too blue lips against your red. It’s all clumsy, quick and not well thought out – he pulls back before you can decide to do anything about it but suck in a breath and that alone has him still like he’d been zapped.

“Fuck.” His hold loosens on you at a comically fast pace, paint-coated fingers hovering midair, palms outward as if physically keeping himself from reaching for you again. As if in surrender. It’s far too easy to stumble over his words, to be a blushing loser around you and only you. He’s quick to act, something of an apology forming on his lips. “I wasn’t thinking. Shit, no -- I mean-- I was but I just wouldn’t kiss you like that—” Wait, that’s not good either, clearly isn’t from the lift of one of your brows. Poor choice of words. Poor, poor choice. He swallows thickly, waving his hands, licking at his bottom lip as he thinks, making a face at the sort of earthy tinge of paint on his tastebuds. He usually had way better game than this, really. “Y’know I don’t mean I wouldn’t kiss you. I wasn’t planning on doing it now. Like – paint in the mouth?” The earthy tang fills his mouth again as if reacting to being mentioned. “But you were all close,” And pretty, “I thought—I thought maybe, but I wasn’t sure—"

“Gojo, shut up.” You’d chuffled, clearly amused. Heat licks at your skin where he’d touched, lips remembering the imprint of his on yours, even if momentary. “Huh?” He looks borderline panicked, it makes you want to laugh some more.

“I said shut up.” If the words hadn’t stunned him to silence, the curl of your colourful fingers against the back of his neck would have done the trick, mouth on his before he can spiral into a longer monologue on not kissing you without asking, and boundaries. Nice of him to apologize though, makes the kiss a little more deserved.

Unlike his it’s less clumsy, less unsure. A proper kiss (sort of). The angle is awkward, your head is tilted up and your neck hurts a little, but it feels so good to be kissing him again, a little neck pain isn’t much to think about. “Mmh..” His reciprocation comes right before you can pull back, knees bent as much as they need to to keep you from craning your neck, lips melding together. The contact is visceral, lips not exactly hungry but intentional. Firm, movements of his mouth feeling too practiced against yours. Soft sighs and breaths mutually exchanged into each other’s mouths -- blue and yellow mixing in his ivory strands as you tug, brings him closer to your own mouth as if you aren’t close enough.

You pull back soon enough, hands still in his hair, his world properly shifted on its axis. Fabric of his existence permanently altered.

For all that sweet, smooth talking charm in his arsenal, he’s awfully quiet right now.

“Uh.”

Real articulate. God, he should just die.

The grin that spreads on your mouth is slow as if trying to keep it down, swiping at his now purple mouth, gaze moving from there to his hair. The patch painted a reddish green from your fingers. You’re so close. Soooclose and so pretty and you smell like you and look like you and--

The little call of your assigned nickname for him has him glancing down again, swallowing as his head tilts. “Can I just..” He doesn’t know how to ask exactly, isn’t sure if it’s necessary, you’d been kissing just moments ago. “I’m g’nna kiss you again. Yeah?” The press of his mouth down on yours is a welcome familiarity, he doesn’t feel the need to pull back when you breath in again this time around, nerves evaporated for the most part. Fingers with swipes of paint are firm cradling your face, dipped into your height, head tilted to slot his mouth against yours properly like he’s trying to memorize the shape of it. Swipes his tongue into your mouth, gets a good taste of paint. Jeez.

A muffled giggle against his mouth breaks the tense air, hands still in his hair sliding down to his nape. “..Look at what you started, Satoru. Paint everywhere.” His own thumb swipes at your matching purple, lips soft to the touch. Finally aware of how they’d feel under the press of stained fingertips. Go figure. Yeah, he’s a little in love with you, he’s sure of it now. Not friendly love. A sappy, gross, ‘fuck, I’m so screwed’ kind of love? Yeah, maybe.

“Oops.” He doesn’t feel sorry in the slightest, doesn’t think he can after the escalation caused by the childish paint smearing. Another kiss-quick and light- pressed to the corner of your mouth, a soft hum against your skin. “We look like idiots. Try to avoid swallowing by the way.” You’re sure your teeth are a little purple – you think they are since you can taste paint every time you speak. Gross. “Let’s hope it washes out well.”

extra:

You've been scrubbing at your lips for the better half of 5 minutes at this point. Soap on its own, fingers as the tool. Then soap and a cloth. The paint is at least not crusty on your skin – you don’t appreciate the purple tinge around your mouth or the barely held back laugh from the man next to you sporting a similar stain, though. “At least we’re matching again.”

You suppose you are.

You both have purple tinged mouths over the weekend.

additional a/n: jan van eyck - painter renowned for his revolutionizing of oil painting, 2. rembrandt - dutch golden age painter really good at portraits.

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#torueater ୨ৎ #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk gojo #jjk fic #satoru gojo #jjk #jjk fanart #art student gojo #jujitsu kaisen #gojo fluff #nerdjo #jjk satoru

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your-local-uwu-artist · 10 months ago

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it was suggested I post this to the tags as well >:D

fuck it ima tag @transcendence-au as well because tbh I'm very proud of my silly little animation

some me being a nerd under the cut!

okay so this all started when I read the original post this was inspired by and though 'wouldn't it be silly to add some art to this 3 year old post?' but then I decided to animate it for funsies!

and gosh I sure do love animating!

So I got the base sketch and then got into the lineart animation for each component!

i don't have the sketches/wips saved at all sense this wasn't really a project and it took less than a day to complete. but here's a peak at the timeline

I animate entirely in my ususal drawing software: clip studio paint. It's just what's easiest for me.

all of these layers outside that folder are just the sparkles! after I finished I added some sparkles for fun! there's a lot of them because it involved a lot of copy and pasting sparkle layers

the bottom folders here are the wings body and facial expression! for everything like the wings arms and flags I was able to just copy paste, reverse, and then align the timing correctly in the timeline

one thing unique about this animation is that the lineart and colors are in separate layers! I tend to do line and colors on the same layer but this time I was using a brush that doesn't have the same lack of anti-aliasing and sense it's a small animation I wasn't as worried about keeping a minimum of layers like usual.

also the movement of the body is only 4 frames! and one one of those is just the hat shifting position

initially I wasn't going to have the second facial expression but when I got stuck on animating the flags I added the second facial expression while taking a break.

the arm animation is just 8 frames! honestly the only tricky part in this is the flags, everything else was pretty simple, which made it super fun to work on because I got both a challenge and mindless therapeutic drawing out of it.

NOW THE FLAGS there was 3 throw away attempts before I got it: you see the thing that made this tricky is finding the balance between believability and visual appeal. a big part of animation is creating the illusion of physics, this is the 'believability' part, I need these to look like flags that are moving and made of flat fabric, HOWEVER if I animate these one-to-one with realistic physics: it won't look good! I can't apply wind to the whole drawing because then the hair would have to react, and wind goes one way, and I wan't the flags to be pointing opposite directions. so without wind the flags would be laying down flat, but that won't look good at all! and furthermore realistic physics would have the flag not being all nice and front facing most of the time. so the trick here was figuring out how much physics to apply to make it look believable, while still making it look good.

one trick I did to help me animate the flags is I actually made a plan rectangle flag as a guide so that the general mass/volume of the flag would stay consistent, this is something i highly recommend when animating! like having a circle guide along a characters head to keep their height and proportions consistent.

after I finally found the balance with the flag lineart coloring wasn't too hard! sense I just had to follow the lines, and THANK GOODNESS the trans and aroace flag have the same number of stripes: saving me time!

and then it all comes together to make a satisfying perfectly looping bundle of cuteness >:DDD I feel like the tau fandom doesn't have as many artists with particularly cartoony/chibi art styles so I've gotta play my part in spreading the joy-whimsy-adorable-sillys >:D

anyway! hope you get to see a cool beetle today :D

#kyukyudraws #animation #alcor the dreambender #tau #transcendence au #the transcendence au #gravity falls

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redheadspark · 1 year ago

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Hi, this is first time I am asking someone for a story, but your prompts are so fun... Well my request is for Benedict and can you pla make a combo of prompt #2 & #19 (did you know its going to be this hot, write it to confirm 😅) and when its about Benedict it will be fun to read something smuty 😉

Hope I am not being very demanding ... Thanks in advance 💮

A/N - This was great to write, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks for the request!

Distract

Summary - Benedict knows how to distract you, even on a hot day

Warnings - Just fluff and a HINT of steam ;)

“Are you sure all the windows are open, dear?”

“Trust me, darling. I have every single window open in attempts to give us some relief with the breeze,”

You hummed, using the fan as much as you could as your husband, Benedict Bridgerton, was working away at his canvas and trying his best to finish the latest piece he was working on for a month. You loved watching him work, it was a peaceful time when you two would be in his art studio while you would be working on your correspondence and Benedict was painting. It was what you two would do every Sunday before you would have to start your hectic weekly schedules again.

You’ve been married to Benedict for almost 5 years now, you two have known each other since you were young and were madly in love with one another in your teens. Of course, you both had to wait until you both were old enough for Benedict to properly court you, then propose to you. It was rather silly since you both knew even as early teens that you would be married to each other for all of your lives. It was also a perk that your families were close friends, both sets of parents were already inwardly planning on your courtship when they saw the spark between the pair of you. It was safe to say that his mother, the sweet and kind Violet Bridgerton, was beyond happy to gain another daughter in her household and with her name.

You were glad too.

Having a small apartment in the Bridgerton Estate was an immense blessing, having new siblings to get to know and be social with, your own space to share with Benedict, and simply have your time as a wife with him. He was beyond an amazing husband, making things light in diet times, knowing when to make you laugh when you were sad or simply hold you when you needed physical contact. You both had flaws, but talking through them together as a team made it all worthwhile.

But now there was a minor heat wave that came through the area, and even the massive Bridgerton estate would not bring any relief that would help you anytime soon.

“Did you know it was going to be this hot today?” You asked nonchalantly as you were scanning the stack of envelopes on the desk for you to peer through.

“I wish I did, then we would have planned a better outing,” Benedict answered.

“Perhaps we should have escaped to the lake, like Kate and Anthony,” you hummed as you looked over another ball invitation while fanning yourself, Benedict chuckling from his spot at his easel while he was drawing a long stripe of blue on the canvas.

“I’d rather be in an audience of their…love for one another,” Benedict replied with a snort, making you giggle as you looked over in his direction. He was still dressed somewhat formally, you both coming back from a luncheon with your mother-in-law. His blue coat and undershirt brought out the shine in his eyes and the flushness in his cheeks, making him look even more enchanting than ever.

Every once in a while you would get lost in his appearance: whether he was working deep on a piece of art and his skin was stained in ink or charcoal, or even when you two were chatting during dinner and he was ranting about a family story. He had a way with you, a way to make you lose your train of thought or make time stand still.

“Darling?”

You blinked, seeing that Benedict stopped his painting and was watching you with a hint of concern, “Are you well?”

You smiled and blinked slowly, placing your fan on the desk and resting a hand on your cheek as you tilted your head at him, “More than well, since I get a marvelous view of my husband being a marvelous artist,”

Benedict grinned, the smirk he showed you was enough to make your stomach flip. You knew that look, something reserved for the pair of you out of the public eye. He may have Benn posted as a gentleman when it came to his name and how to conduct himself, but it was a different scenario when you two were alone. He knew how to make you cave from a simple look or sweet talk. Benedict has always been a flirt, before you got together and then after. But most of the time you were the object of his flirtations.

Which you would never object to.

“Just marvelous? Oh, you wound me,” He replied, you ruling your eyes as he continued, “The words I would use for my wife would be far more expressive,”

“Oh would they?” You asked, taking the bait that he was dangling for you. Benedict could only smile, placing the paint brush on the easel before he walked over towards you. He went around the desk, his eyes still drilling into yours with a signature smile as his fingers traced along the top of the dress, almost making a mess of your letter pile while he was getting closer to you. It felt like you were frozen in your spot in the chair, your fan staying still in your hand, Benedict reaching over to take the fan from your hand delicately.

“Divine…exquisite…intelligent….kind….angelic….” He laced every word with love and affection, inching closer and closer to you as he was now perched on the top of the desk, his eyes twinkled in the sunlight and your breath was lost in your throat. You felt every single one of those words hit you along your chest, making you feel so loved and almost as light as air.

As soon as he was close enough to have his lips brush against yours, you felt your stomach summersault as he eyed your lips for the briefest of moments.

“Just to name a few,” He whispered, you eyeing his lips in return as you finally grinned widely at you.

You dived in, kissing him deeply as he was perched over you on the desk. You both kissed, leaning into each other smoothly and with no hesitation while it felt like you couldn’t get closer than ever before. This was nothing new for you two, especially when it came to the throws of love. Benedict was an amazing lover, knowing which buttons to push and where to touch you with both his lips and hands. There was never a dull moment with your husband when it came to pleasure, and he would surprise you in the best way possible.

“Take off your jacket, the hell?” You huffed against his lips as you reached to push his blue jacket off. Benedict laughed, kissing you deeply as he threw off the jacket to toss it to the floor you spoke again, “You’re making me hot just by looking at you,”

“Just by my looks?” Benedict asked in a breath, you laughing as he reached to undo a bit of your dress with his nimble and skilled fingers, “I must be lacking then. Perhaps I should brush up a bit more,”

“Yes you must,” You hummed in return, almost in a growl. You both let the rest of the world slip away, just like your dress slipping to the floor as well as his trousers.

That hot day was bearable after all.

The End

July Prompt Session

#benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton fandom #bridgerton #fanfiction #writing

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love-minor-poltergeist · 2 months ago

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A/N: Here to contribute to (what I could already assume is) the massive amount of Eddie Gluskin content in this fanbase. These are mostly just for fun and to flesh out how I would like to portray our lovely Groom! I hope you all enjoy!

C/W: While I don't go into graphic detail, there are brief mentions of Childhood Abuse/CSA. Please proceed with caution!

General Eddie Gluskin Hcs:

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Touch is a delicate matter with Eddie. If he’s the one initiating he’s absolutely fine; he has no qualms against hurting others, after all. However, he absolutely abhors being on the receiving end of it. Though it’s been long since his father and uncle were incarcerated, their abuse left Eddie adverse to even casual touch. He can still feel the ghosts of their half-assed attempts at “comfort” after they were done with him. No amount of bathing or scrubbing can wash away the damage.

It’s better to give the man his space.

If he wasn’t in the vocational block toiling away at the sewing machines, Eddie could be found within the recreation area. He can’t go often thanks to the fact that the security guards have to watch him like a hawk, but he enjoys the fresh air. It also helps that the grounds come with weight-lifting equipment. A man must maintain a peak physical form. And Eddie is a vain main.

Granted, Eddie dislikes going into the courtyard for the same reasons. He’s solitary by nature, and a lot of the patients flock to the place; desperate to have some form of distraction. It’s difficult to maintain his friendly demeanor around so many people for so long.

However, he does cross paths with Frank Manera from time to time in the recreation block. The scragglier man offered to spot him one day while Eddie was weight-training, and the two of them had gotten along ever since.

Frank, naturally calm and lethargic in his movements, never set him off. Even if the cannibal’s hygiene habits leave much to be desired. However, Eddie is willing to overlook it. Besides, the man is surprisingly opinionated when it comes to stageplay costume design, and it was nice that Eddie can finally share an interest with someone else.

In addition to sewing and tailoring, Eddie naturally has a knack for drawing and pastels. He’d like to have a try at painting one day, but Murkoff is a bit stingy when it comes to art supplies.

Though, on the other side of the spectrum, the man is hopeless when it comes to digital media. Sure, he could learn if he truly wanted to, but… He truly doesn’t have the patience for it. Yes, sewing isn’t exactly the fastest, either, but it felt way better than just sitting in front of a computer screen trying to figure out how to make a website. He’ll get stir-crazy if he can’t occupy his hands.

Usually will keep his needles and pins tucked within his teeth while he’s working. Whether or not he’s accidentally swallowed one, Eddie will never share.

He absolutely has. His poor mother was in hysterics the first time it happened.

While he dreams of a white-picket fence with a wife and kids and a dog— he’s terribly allergic to dogs and cats. A fact he discovered the hard way with a neighbor’s schnauzer. Seven year old Eddie was crushed that day.

Used to have longer hair when he was a child, but kept it cropped short thanks to his Father not wanting, in his words, “a queer for a son”

Stuck within the limbo of hating his mother and revering her. Mrs. Gluskin was a victim as well, and she did her best to provide her son with comfort; and if she invited him to tag along with her for errands, it meant he was safe for the day.

Yet all Eddie could focus on was how she cowered away and avoid looking into his eyes after his abusers were done with him; how she would turn up the TV when Eddie’s crying and shouts could be heard from the basement; how she refused to talk about what happened after his father and uncle were arrested. The years of resentment only grew worse thanks to Mr. Gluskin passing his misogyny onto Eddie.

He may go on about how he wants to have a family, but Eddie is a little awkward around kids. He more so tends to treat them like little adults as opposed to children. It didn’t help that he never had many friends during childhood, so he has a tendency to stand there, frozen in place, while he watches a bunch of children run around.

Doesn’t like having his picture taken. He hates having to force a smile for the camera, only to be met with how empty his eyes look in the end product.

Do not ever take him clothes shopping unless you want to spend an entire day bickering with him. He’s quite critical over fabric quality and finding the “right” set of clothes that’ll flatter him. He’ll walk into the dressing rooms with a mountain of shirts and pants in one hand and end up leaving with only a single set of pants and a button up shirt. At least he neatly folds everything before placing it back on the return rack..

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#my writing #headcanons #outlast #outlast whistleblower #outlast fanfiction #red barrels #eddie gluskin #general headcanons #horror #mentions of child abuse

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weirdbrothers · 30 days ago

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Dune Fic Rec

Are you worried that AI is going to ruin humanity? Do twinks on a power trip turn you on? Would you call yourself a fan of pretentious cinema? Or maybe you just have a fetish for arranged marriage?

I was a moderate fan of the Dune movies, but after diving into the fandom I've become obsessed with the characters and the world. There is political intrigue, complicated family dynamics, questions about the role of gender, and a lot of people tripping on space drugs.

Below the cut are my favorite fics so far. Almost all are Paul/Feyd. Shoot me a message if I didn't list one of your favorites, or if you'd like to see a part 2. Happy reading!

this bleeding heart, pierced by @saltwaterpanda | Paul/Feyd

Omegaverse AU. Plans within plans are destroyed when alpha Feyd kidnaps omega Paul with the intention of making him his husband. To prevent both embarrassment and a devastating war, both their families pretend that the marriage was arranged to end their feud. Meanwhile, Feyd wonders why his fated mate is so cold to him, Paul must endure Giedi Prime and Feyd's attempts at courtship, and the Atreides plan to take Paul back.

Notes: Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! I stayed up until 4am catching up on this fic. The dialogue and world-building is really good, not cheesy or contrived to fit the AU. Major GOT/HOTD vibes.

closeness / proximity by @bittcrblue | Paul/Feyd

A meeting with Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen triggers Paul's first heat. Leto Atreides comes to terms with what this means for the future. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen tries to behave for his new in-laws. Paul Atreides has other ideas.

Notes: I want to giggle and kick my feet when I read this! Its sooo cute! But also horny? Perfect depiction of love-sick teenagers. It's also shifting perspectives which I love. The ABO world-building is top-tier, everything is so natural.

Corrida by mnabokov | Paul/Feyd

“It is not a good morning,” Gurney growled, “When the son of Duke Leto is to be married to a Harkonnen.”

Notes: I think this was the first fic I read for this fandom. Immediately it opened up the world and showed me other fleshed out possibilities to this pairing.

Changing of the Guard by @saltwaterpanda | Paul/Feyd

Omegaverse AU. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is to become Paul's husband and mate, and Duncan, Paul's designated heat partner, must oversee their first time together to make sure Feyd can be a proper alpha.

Notes: Feyd and Duncan covertly fighting for dominance in a threesome with Paul in the middle? Yes, please! I'm just in love with Feyd here, he's so confident and crass.

i've pulled you in, nowhere to hide now by @spicedrobot | Paul/Feyd

It was not the call of the divine that bent Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen’s knee. But there was no need to dissuade the rumors. Controlling Feyd requires peculiar methods.

Notes: Just beautiful writing that paints vivid pictures of Paul and Feyd. Very biting and harsh in the most delicious way. The push and pull for control over the relationship is great.

Westermarck by @granolapack | Paul/Feyd

Paul suffers through an awkward weekend at his Grandpa's house with his cousin. It's even more awkward than usual after he accidentally sent his cousin a picture of his dick.

Notes: Modern Day AU! Really fun and mischievous story. The dialogue is very natural and like the opposite of when you're watching a TV show and all of the teenagers sound like Gen Xers (can you tell I really care about dialogue? haha) I like seeing the subtle outsiders view as other people watch Paul and Feyd dance around each other.

your burning body, waiting by @granolapack | Paul/Feyd

The distance between he and his boy bride — both emotional and physical — does not lessen after the night that they both stand either side of their marital bed, and Atreides fixes him with a cold, resolute stare and tells him, in no uncertain terms, that there will be no love between them. Feyd-Rautha realises shortly after that when he’d said love, he’d meant sex.

Notes: SEDUCTION!!!!!!!! FEYD BEING A SEDUCER!!!!! FOR 6 CHAPTERS!!!!!!! the end

Like a Slow Blade by @jolinarjackson | Paul/Feyd

After House Atreides suffers a devastating attack by House Harkonnen on Arrakis, a now orphaned Paul is forced into an arrangement to live as Baron Harkonnen’s ward, alongside the Baron’s nephew Feyd-Rautha. With only Gurney remaining as his protection and Feyd-Rautha unexpectedly becoming something like an ally, Paul is determined to find a way to escape before they lose their lives… or themselves.

Notes: A story that is impossible to put down! Warning though it is pretty gut-wenching, I cried a few times. But also an addicting slowburn romance.

A poem for sad times by kullwahad | Paul/Gurney

Paul's first heat turns out to be an unexpected summer vacation for Gurney Halleck.

Notes: This fandom just knows how to do ABO right! This story is a really nice slow burn. So sexy it will have you on the edge until they finally fuck. Great dialogue and fleshed out characters here. Also stayed up super late finishing this, couldn't put it down.

(Also the title has "poem" in it, so I can't not share Josh Brolin's poem for Timmy! Actors, ammiright?)

The Burning From Within by th_esaurus | Paul/Duncan

If asked to describe Duncan, Paul’s language would not have changed from then to now. But the feeling was different.

Notes: Love the little details about Paul's resistance to arranged marriage. Some good insight to what the Atreides family dynamic is.

#dune #dune fic rec #feydpaul #feydpaul fic rec #paul atreides #feyd rauth harkonnen #fic rec

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yuzukult · 4 months ago

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drafts: i've been a little lost lately || jww & reader

drafts: unfinished works by yuzukult. please do not steal or try to recreate. draft title: i've been a little lost lately pairing: jeon wonwoo & reader genre: angst word count: 2.2k warnings: break up!au, second chances!au a/n: weee another draft, i hope you guys like it lol

Laying in your bed, you suspect it’s been forty minutes since you’ve actually woken up. The ceiling is painted white—blank, bleak, and plain, just like how your life has been feeling lately. Even with the sun shining through the sheer curtains, a warm glow hitting the pale walls, it remains dull. How many days has it been? Weeks? Months? Years? Truthfully, it’s not a question, rather you used to count the days since the break-up, but you’ve already stopped lying to yourself that he’ll come back. You’ve stopped enumerating the amount of time by now.

But mornings like these, the ones where there isn’t an agenda other than to just waste the day away, you miss him. You miss tossing in the bedsheets, turning to meet your gaze with his; soft brown eyes that resembled the burning wood in a campfire, pools of hot chocolate in cups during the winter with a marshmallow in each serving, and the walnuts he’d attempt to fling into your mouth from across the couch before the two of you would laugh breathlessly when he would miss and hit another part of your face. His hair would always be messy; stray strands poking up analogous to antennes, and you’d poke fun, asking if he was receiving any signal from the satellite from above. There was the aroma of freshly brewed coffee that filled the room, the sizzle of the eggs that hit the heated pan on the stove, and the smile that beamed so brightly sitting in front of you at the kitchen table seemed to be a lost piece of your life, one you don’t think you’d ever get the chance of seeing again.

Not all loves last, you learn wistfully, and remembering the day he shut the door of your apartment behind him with his duffle bag in hand and a backpack that sat atop his shoulders, it’s a reminder that he’s really gone. There’s no big, flamboyant gesture that you could do to bring him back, and if you really wanted to, a portion of you knows that this is what he wishes for. To be apart. You respect him too much to put him in another uncomfortable position by asking if he could stay.

Glancing over at your phone screen, you groan. 12:31PM.

You’ve been laying here for what feels like forever, but the forty minutes that you assumed is a measly five.

The smell of breakfast and coffee, the loud clutters from the pans under the cabinets that used to come from outside your bedroom, and the exchanged delicate kisses during these mornings weren’t there anymore, and they haven’t been for two years now.

So why the fuck are you still thinking about them?

Rubbing your face tiredly, you force yourself to sit up on your bed. He’s not here, and he hasn’t been here in a while, and the fact that the memories still haunt your thoughts like a bad dream is frustrating. Why would he still infiltrate your head like he belongs there, like he deserves to be there, when he hasn’t been here physically in two years? He’s like a plague you can’t seem to cure yourself from, and even if you did, remnants of him prevail. You’d think you’d have the antibodies or something and your system could get rid of him before it takes over.

Maybe you’ll catch up on laundry, possibly do something today instead of nothing so that your head could be too busy to think of anything else. Toothbrush in hand and staring at yourself through the mirror, you’ve caught yourself once again pondering why he would pop in your head again when you’ve been doing so well lately. Shaking yourself from these thoughts, you went on with your morning routine. Brush, facewash, and skincare.

The thought of coffee crosses your mind again, this time, you’re contemplating if you’re favoring ordering delivery or opting to make a cup for yourself.

Unlocking your phone, you skim through the pages of your homescreen before your finger hovers the Instagram icon. Purple, pink, red, orange, and yellow, who knew a square with a plethora of colors could weigh so heavy on your heart. Barely a month ago, you scrolled through the app casually before that familiar username pops up, one that used to sit in your direct messages almost daily, now hidden deep in your history. He posts a picture that seems like forever ago since he last did, the image of him with the silhouette of a pretty girl is on your feed and you could almost hear your heart audibly crack.

You’ve moved on. So why were you still aching?

Before you could decide on ordering or making coffee yourself, there’s a knock at the door.

And in all fairness, you weren’t sure of what you were expecting. You should’ve checked the peep hole in the door, or even taken a glance at the monitor that shows who’s outside in the hall—but oddly something in you is out of order today and when the door opens to expose who it is standing by the threshold of your apartment, you freeze.

If this is what it feels like for your heart to drop to your ass, then you’ve just experienced it.

There he is. Jeon Wonwoo in the flesh, in the halls of your apartment complex with an oversized beige jacket and two cups of coffee placed in a pulp fiber drink carrier.

“Hey,” he says, voice soft and barely a whisper. The expression on his face is pained, like he’s just been through a heartbreak. Why was he here?

“Uh, hi?” Rubbing your nape, you’re left confused and speechless. Do you invite him in? Do you yell and scream because he left you that night, without a real explanation on why he decided to go? Or do you leap into his arms and tell him how much you’ve missed him, and how even when you’ve moved on and found others to love, your heart still came back to him. “What… What can I do for you?”

Wonwoo inhales a deep breath, lifting up the carrier in his hands. “I… I brought us coffee to talk, if you’re willing to invite me in.”

You roll your lips. “What are you actually doing here, Wonwoo? We broke up. I’m sure you remember that.”

“I got lost,” he admits abruptly, like it was the words that got caught in his throat all these years, as if it’s what he wanted to tell you all along. “I got lost, and I thought that what we had wasn’t supposed to be the end. I saw what it was like being with other people and I—I fucked up. It was a mistake.”

You don’t know what to say. This was something the old you wished for, dreamed for, even, but the person presently here doesn’t know what she wants. “Um,” you begin, clearing your throat. “What’s in that cup?”

“My apologies,” Wonwoo answers humorously, but it’s only a front. “Hot matcha latte with two shots of espresso. Just as you liked years ago.”

He went through the efforts to get the right drink for you. Maybe you’ll give him a chance to explain himself. “Twenty minutes—tops,” you clarify before stepping aside for him to enter.

Your apartment is in the same location, but the interior is different. He takes note that you’ve moved your desk to face the window, for sunlight he assumes, and you’ve shifted your couch over to make room for it. Your dishes used to sit out at the table, he remembered correctly, but you’ve overcome the habit and your sink is empty, plates cleared, and placed where they belong on the shelf.

“Quick. Timer is starting.”

You’re quick to snag the drink from him, and a soft smile tugs on his mouth. He missed you, and even if he doesn’t outright say it, he feels it in his core. “I got engaged.”

You nearly spat out your matcha. “You what?”

Wonwoo nods, fingers tapping against the granite countertops of your island, swallowing all his nerves so he could fully explain himself. “I was seeing someone and… it got serious. So I did what seemed best at the time, and I proposed.”

“She looked nice,” you say, drawing imaginary shapes on the outside of your cup to calm yourself. Hatred buzzed through you, not the two shots of espresso, but you weren’t going to show it. You assumed it was his girlfriend that he proposed to, and to be fair, she seemed lovely—how could you blame him? “And she was pretty too.”

“She was great,” Wonwoo admits, and you wonder why he came in the first place. “Kind, charming, sweet—she was the whole packaged deal.”

Remaining silent, you figured it wasn’t time to start a fight. As tempting as it was, you still wanted to hear what he had to say.

“But she wasn’t you.”

You weren’t expecting that.

“So I left,” he sighs, his jaw tensing at the memories. “I told her how I truly felt and walked out.”

You purse your lips. “Well, you do what you know best.”

It stings.

For him, his weakest spot has always been you. You were the one that made his heart skip a beat the first time, the one who made him feel whole as a person without making it feel like he needed you to fill it. You taught him to love himself, to accept who he was because he got to see himself through your eyes.

And he let that go. He fucked up and let go of the one person that helped him grow and be better as a person. For himself, for your relationship… for you.

But he abandoned you. Now he’s here and begging for forgiveness.

So when you say those words, they sting and burn like alcohol poured on to an open wound, but he’d stand there and take it because deserves it from you.

“I—I know what I did, and I don’t know how to make it better.”

“Go marry her and be happy.”

Now he wasn’t expecting that.

With furrowed brows, he switches the weight on his one leg to the other. You don’t mean that, do you? “What? You want me to marry her?”

“Yeah,” you reply, fists at your side clenched. “I want you to be married and happy, not still thinking about a ‘what if,’ with me. Wonwoo, as much as I wished it was me, I don’t want that for her. I don’t want her to deal with what I did, watching the love of your life walk out on you and never come back.”

“But I came back.”

“And you’ll go back to her. I also have too much self respect to just let you waltz into my life like you didn’t just throw away four years into the trash for you to get engaged and come back.”

He’s silent.

Your response catches him dumbfounded, but everything with you leaves him on the edge of his seat. It’s why your relationship had always been an excitement—the spontaneous road-trips, the surprises you’d give on random days to show your love, and the subtle things you’d do for him just because—with you, even when you’re just lounging on the couch with nothing to do for the day, he could never be bored.

“I’m not going back to her,” Wonwoo states, firmly this time.

“And why’s that? Because you got lost for a second?” You snap, and it feels like it was a slap to the face.

“Because I don’t love her.”

Scoffing, you place your drink into the counter. “So now what? You love me instead?”

“No,” he heaves out a heavy sigh, because he knows that you’ve put up a wall to protect yourself. It’d be hard for you to allow him through to you again, but he knows it’s worth it. “I’ve always loved you.”

Your heart swells. But of course it does, this is Jeon Wonwoo you were talking about here. With just one look, he makes people weak in the knees, heart stuttering in its beat, and steals the breath from their lungs. He’s a walking dream, and you’d be crazy to turn him down—and you didn't, but that was before. Things are different now. You’ve already given him the chance, and he took advantage of that.

“That’s great, Wonwoo, I’m happy that you realized that. But I don’t know what you want me to do—open my arms and let you leap back into them? Not really a Disney movie we’re living in here. This is reality.”

“I get it, in reality, there aren’t always second chances.”

You quirk a brow. “Well, if you get it, then why are you still here?”

“Because you’re a realist, and sometimes so am I. But I met a hopeless romantic, and he told me that if I still love you, I should still try.”

There’s a pregnant pause. “Here I am, trying.”

In all honesty, Wonwoo knows you. He knows what comes with coming back to ask you for a second chance. It’s always been easy to love you, the difficult part was convincing you to admit you still love him back. You’ve been known to be stubborn, hard headedness being the bane of his existence because you’ll never cave in that easily.

But what you also knew and previously loved was his persistence.

He’d never leave unless you let him at least try winning you back.

With a heavy sigh of defeat, it’s the first time Wonwoo wins an argument against you. It doesn’t require much effort this time, he takes note, and he likes to think you’ve changed for the better since he last saw you.

#wonwoo #svt #seventeen #svt fanfic #seventeen fanfic #wonwoow fanfic

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toothpicktiger · 5 months ago

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Army Painting vs Model Painting

When I (re)started my painting journey a little over a year ago at this point, I focused a lot on painting each and every model to meticulous detail. I am playing Battletech: Alpha Strike, as opposed to a game like 40k, so I thought that i can spend more time on each model since i only ever need to field around 5-10 of them at a time. Sure, it'd take me a while to get through them but i finished the 8 inner sphere mechs in the Alpha Strike Starter box within my first three months! Even with me slowly amassing a collection of gray minis calling my name, i was patient.

Everything changed when the fire nation attacked my entire collection was stolen out of the back of my car (more on that in a future post). After experiencing the generosity shown of my local community, I had to start repainting my newly rebuilt collection.

At first, I stuck to my old ways of painting just a few models to meticulous detail. I learned and refined techniques that enjoyed, and figured out how to quickly get through ones I enjoy less. Then, as I played more, ran more events, and developed the draft cube, I realized that it would really elevate my events and loaner models if they were all painted. And there's no way i'll get that completed in my lifetime at my current rate.

In only a couple weeks, i completed the equivalent of about 1 model a day. I know for some people, that seems really slow, but for me that's lightning quick. Especially considering i'm still learning how to airbrush, and using color theory and layering to try to achieve the blue that made me fall in love with this scheme.

You can see my first attempt on the panther was a bit too light of a purple, and the wolfhound is closer to the book example, but still a bit blue. While the latter is technically wrong, I really like how it looks. What else really matters? Plus it means I get to use purple primer and a purple wash, which is fun for me!

So, that's when I started to develop a method that is a balance of speed and quality. I realized I needed to learn how to become an army painter. Striking that balance of efficiency and quality and fun was the newest puzzle to tackle. I have physical hard evidence that i can paint to a high degree of quality. I don't need to prove that to anyone, let alone myself, anymore.

And here, with this scheme for a Free Rasalhauge Kavalleri Regiment from the Force Manual: Kurita book, I found a simple color scheme that uses some of my favorite colors and i can knock out quickly and to a high degree of quality on models that call for it.

Now, I think I've mostly transitioned into army painter mode for BattleTech. The most satisfying thing is completing chunks of models and making a dent into my goal of having enough painted minis that players in the events I host don't have to play with gray minis, if they're from my collection.

That being said, I am always trying to stay one step ahead of burnout. So mixing things up like Uncle Atom suggested in a recent Tabletop Minions video has been very helpful. Terrain, and large models like the Aurora Borealis DropShip from my previous post are great examples. I still get that itch to go deep on a project sometimes, and those are great outlets when there isn't a Battletech model I want to go deep on.

I do have an upcoming project in that vein that I'm pretty excited and nervous about. Stay tuned!

#battletech #alpha strike #wargaming #mini painting #painting miniatures #army painter #camospecs

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yawnwhatyadoing · 1 month ago

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hihihi have you, yes YOU, ever heard of forgotten deities who used to be worshipped and viewed as holy in the public eye but then as they were forgotten and left behind they slowly fell out of touch with humanity and became more and more like the creature or force they represent, eventually reaching a state where they've forgotten how to communicate with humans and are incredibly mystical and wondrous to see, like a folklore creature, a humanoid embodiment of what they represent, though are still curious about humans and will interact and examine them if spotted because they faintly remember the days where that kind used to worship and empower them

Imagine like, a moth goddess who was once joyous and loved to bless wishes and could constantly be spotted near big cities due to their huge light, always smiling and blessing their worshippers, now as believable as an old folktale, found in the woods. Large antenna, large wings, large glowing eyes. She approaches you, gently, slowly, as if attempting to calm a doe. Her wings carry her just a few inches off the ground to you, expression painted in what you make out to be confusion and intrigue. She looks as if she had merged with the woods, blended with her beautiful winged insects that had once been nothing more than a symbol and a power for her. Like, as if she too, had slowly been turning into a moth after all this time. Her hand, if it could still be called that, runs down your cheek, curiosity coloring her every action. And for a moment, that creature, with its huge eyes and giant wings, looks almost... wistful. Almost... almost human.

I'm sorry I kinda got carried away oops

I just really like concepts like this (I find the most amazing ones are always based off animals, like a sea turtle! see, I remembered) But I do not have the skill to bring them to life :(

but if you're taking art requests ...

no pressure obviously love you draw whatever you want and have fun doing it just an idea :D

that sounds really cool! i love that idea! also feel free to talk about concepts like this or anything anytime! i would love to draw that and if you could can you tell me a more physical description? like how moth like and how human like is she? also thanks for remembering about sea turtles being my favorite animal!

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barmadumet · 2 months ago

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Writing Tag Game 🖊️

I was tagged by @paracosm-draw and I am very thankful ♥️

How many works do you have on AO3?

5! And I probably would’ve felt like a loser and not attempted this game had that top fics by kudos question down there been more than 5 😆

What's your total AO3 word count?

575,670

What fandoms do you write for?

Star Wars of course!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

What a coincidence, I just so happen to have 5 fics exactly 😃 😆 🙌

1. Streets of Gold

2. Lay Down Your Guard & Come To Me

3. Every Breath Is A Second Chance

4. Remind Me Who I Am

5. A Strange Kind of Love

Do you respond to comments?

Every single one, and many times even the replies from my replies 👍

What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

While I do like to write a whole lot of angst, I’m not so much about the angsty endings. I guess I’d say, Every Breath Is A Second Chance, because even though the boys have each other, pretty much the entire galaxy turned their backs on them. And that’s pretty angsty I guess lol. As long as the boys get their happily ever after 👍

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely Streets of Gold. I gave SO many different Star Wars characters their own happily ever after. It is a fic with a multitude of ships!

Do you get hate on fics?

I’ve not! And I’m fortunate for that.

Do you write smut?

I do! And it is very vanilla lol, and many times it is a disaster as well, because that’s how sex can be in real life.

Do you write crossovers?

I never have, but it sounds fun 😊

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Dang. I hope not.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I’ve not! But that would be very exciting!

Have you ever co-written a fic?

Not officially… but @palfriendpatine66 and I have done some incredible world building 🔥 I do the plot. Pal does the porn 😆 And maybe we’ll publish one day ♥️

What's a WIP you want to finish but probably won't?

Sigh. Likely that Pretty Woman AU I started nearly 2 years ago. I got 4,000 words in, but I don’t see myself going further. Possibly 🤔

What are your writing strengths?

I very much enjoy writing dialogue, and I’ve been told that I’m good at it. I hope that’s true. It seems to be the one thing that flows easily as opposed to descriptions and summaries.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Speaking of descriptions and summaries 😅 I feel like I’m good at describing what is happening with characters physically while in their conversations, but who the hell knows what is going on in the background lol; I don’t have that poetic style of writing where I can paint an atmospheric picture. Many times I forget to even try! I just jump right into the conversations lol. No, I don’t know the weather conditions, or what the room smells like… I need to work on this.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I think that is very creative. I wish I spoke more languages, though lol. But a little huttese here and there? Sure. Mando’a? Why not? I’m game.

First fandom you wrote for?

Star Wars, Star Wars, Star Wars! My one and only!

Favourite fic you've written?

That’s hard, but probably Streets, because it gave me so much. I built some amazing friendships when I came into the obikin family with that fic. And it got me through such a hard time in my life.

No pressure tags

@wibzenadarksiderwithasoftheart @evieswips @teaandjumpers @usakostar @virahaus

Thank you again, @paracosm-draw !

#gamez #fic gamez #fun!

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straycatfish · 3 months ago

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as threatened... a very self indulgent look at the visual art references in my daniel & alice fic, wayward and flickering existence. one thing i fucking love about iwtv is how present all kinds of art are in it, that it's an essential part of the character work as well as the overall texture of the show. and i love fics that pull on that. so this fic is my first attempt at paying homage to that. (i'm cooking up another one that's explicitly kinky, but that's for another day).

so in the fic daniel takes alice on a midnight gallery date, which is obviously a lil nod to s2e4, but also i liked the thought of daniel realising this is something nice he can do for her (+ he's showing off too, of course). because i'm Like That i needed it to be a real exhibition, and when i found this Edward Hopper exhibit, with its themes of change and memory and subjective perspectives, i was delighted. included were pieces of ephemera, like the hoppers' collection of theatre ticket stubs up top, pointing to lively, living moments vs the staged melancholy of the paintings. it also introduced me to hopper's etchings, which i hadn't seen before.

this is Night Shadows (1922). look at those thick shadows. they're almost alive. and the aerial perspective, the sense of watching. this just has vampire vibes. i thought of daniel seeing this in a book sometime in the 80s or 90s and getting the willies and not really knowing why.

the other great thing the exhibit gave me was its lens on marriage and the idea of the muse. jo hopper, edward's wife, is the model for every woman in his paintings after 1924. she also provided extensive creative and professional support, all while he discouraged her own artistic career.

here's Morning Sun (1952). this time it's alice who's creeped out, by the blank gaze and the drenching light, but she likes that about it. for my purposes, it's a way into exploring her own artistic pov.

my alice being an artist came from all the alice/armand paralleling – the idea of them sharing some physical attributes is fun, but i'm more drawn to thinking about other things they could have in common. an artist's eye on the world, and how that contrasts/complements the reporter's view on daniel's part – that's very compelling to me.

alice-the-artist would have been starting out during the american feminist art movement of the 60s into the 70s – a lot of interest in bodies, spaces, framing, seeing. she is going to be very aware of the position of women in art history and contemporary art. the harshness and the sadness of this painting draws her to it. meanwhile for daniel, it prompts a memory of her sketching him in the 70s during a rough patch in their relationship. shades of amadeo threaded through all this, not that alice knows about that.

after the hopper exhibit they go to check out The Seasons (1957) by Lee Krasner. wow abstract expressionism that's actually good. this canvas is 17 feet wide btw.

krasner was married to jackson pollock, and there's a quote from her that felt pretty on theme. she painted it in the year following her husband's death, and said of it:

the question came up whether one would continue painting at all, and I guess this was my answer.

i decided not to refer to this directly, because after all the hopper stuff i wanted to just refer to a female artist and NOT include her famous husband. but there's loss and grief in there, as well as life – it's such a living painting to me, and alice remarks on that, compares it to a garden and again finds a sense of watching and/or being watched by something in the space it conjures.

alice has visited this painting many times in her life, and this time is a surprise because she wasn't sure if she would ever go back to museums in a world that is starting to believe the COVID pandemic is over while she's still shielding. something here about the imaginary spaces art lets us visit not being really separate from material spaces and conditions.

towards the end of the fic we get a description of one of alice's pieces, a mixed-media portrait of daniel. i made her a collage/mixed media artist because i personally just love that shit, and also because daniel – her muse for a time – is a fragmented thing, and also so i could draw inspiration from some really cool women artists who were also working in the 70s and 80s.

i combined ideas from the work of two artists in particular:

this is from Annegret Soltau's 'Grima' (Masks) series (1986). others from the same series have lizard and bug features. here's more of her work in general.

and this is 'A Difficult Position' from Penny Slinger's series An Exorcism (1970-77).

alice's work as described features hybridised or distorted forms, using pencil drawing, photography, photocopying, tearing and stitching. in the fics that i've written about the two of them, she sees that daniel is haunted during their relationship even if she doesn't know why until much later, after she's gone through the process of exorcising him from her own life. now they're reconnecting, and the ghosts are still everywhere, some of them different ghosts, some familiar.

none of this needs to be known to read the fic, but it was extremely fun for me to hunt out these images and weave them in, and if looking at/into them adds anything to the experience for anyone then i think that's a lovely little bonus.

#many words about fictional characters looking at real art #iwtv fic #alice iwtv #alice molloy #daniel molloy #fic meta #fic research #art history #stray fic #stray fic: dvd extras #and though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death et ceteta

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novantinuum · 5 months ago

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Ohhhh gosh... okay, so it's very, very hard to limit this to just one thing because I engage in so many different artforms. So I'm gonna select one (or maybe even a few, idk ahahah we'll see what I find) piece of work from each of my lil hobbies.

Writing

If I was pressed to make a list of the writing work I'm most proud of for any variety of reasons, then... in no particular order, here are my four picks:

Contact

This is one of the largest plotty multi-chapter fics I've actually finished- usually, if I finish a multi-chapter, it's like a series of vignettes or short one-shot like scenes. But with THIS one, I had a very specific story I set out to tell, re: Steven getting cracked and his family coming down to the wire when it comes to getting him healed, and I finished said story!

I still stand by the character work in this one to this day, and quite like what I did with the dialogue.

A Memoir of the Marks Unseen

I've already mentioned this fic recently, and that's for a damn good reason- it's intensely personal to me, and I spent the good part of a year intensively pouring over it.

I believe this fic contains some of my best descriptive prose to date.

Advocate (CW: Fic deals very frankly with the topic of attempted suicide.)

This fic isn't perfect in my mind, but I will always be super glad that I finished it up years later, because I've had it in my drafts since 2020. It was just... always the sort of story that was almost too close to home for me, ahah. I overtly had to switch the POV from Steven to Lars between outlining and actually writing this to make working on it possible. In the end, I think that was absolutely the right choice.

Also, I'm always a sucker for writing Lars POV anyways, it's actually really fun.

knowing, loving, being (CW: Fic is rated Explicit. Mind the tags.)

Specifically, I'm thinking about One scene in chapter 2 of this story. (The snippit shared here is Not explicit, no worries.)

There's one scene that was SUCH a bitch to write, and let me tell you why...

It's because I had Steven split in two during it, but made the executive decision that I did not want to give names to either component, because I don't think they'd canonically want to name themselves. I still stand by that headcanon when it comes to canon adjacent stuff. But holy SHIT is that hard to execute, especially when the scene in question involves a lot of physical blocking later on, and you have no ability to signal who is Who without constantly using epithets.

Well, I eventually came to the genius idea that I could simply lean in to this confusion and write from "both" of their POVs at once in one weird mixed up smoothie, to sort of... give that impression of the two of them seeing from each other's eyes, but in a written form. And I genuinely think I nailed it in a really creative way. I don't think I'll ever write something this technically intricate ever again, tbh.

Artwork

Objectively, I believe these are my best executed pieces. I selected one from each fandom I've been an active part of over the years.

The Gravity Falls one was for the annual Stanuary event, with the prompt "Con." The piece is titled "The Thirty Year Con" to represent Stan's journey living under his brother's name all that time.

I enjoyed playing with textures and light for that Trollhunters piece- if I were to do this piece now I think I would try to entirely paint it instead of just stopping short at colored line art, but it still looks quite vivid and striking when compared to my art today, and I still quite like the way I rendered the crystals in the back.

The Doctor Who piece is one of the few times I've genuinely taken a stab at realism, and while it's not perfect I still think it did a pretty good job at capturing Capaldi's likeness.

If I could redo a part of this piece for Steven Universe I would change how I shaded/lined the falling rose petals, but beyond that this is still my thematic magnum opus for this fandom when it comes to art. I had the concept blast into my mind like a freight train one day, and I'm so glad I managed to bring it into full fruition. I love how much metaphor I managed to pack into this one, ahah.

And then finally, I still really, really love this Legend of Zelda piece I did- I'm SO happy how the split down the center between present and past came out, and also the fire detailing.

Video Editing

So, my top four favorite edits have to be (links go to their tumblr posts):

Oh, No!

So, this is that SUF edit I did that blew up in the fandom a bit.

There's very few times where I am capable of banging out a video so goddamn fast, and this was One of those times. I envisioned the broad bones of this edit in my head while listening to the song in the car over and over, and slammed the bulk of it out over a 24 hour period. I really like how I managed to make so many clips so thoroughly relevant to the lyrics of this song, and also think I pushed iMovie to its absolute LIMITS on making this video work, LOL. iMovie really doesn't like letting you do fast slam cuts, but I formulated a fairly reliable method for doing just that while editing this, and it's one I've put to great use elsewhere in the years since.

Strawberry Swing

This is one of my first big SU edits, and probably my best stylistically, since I was still using Adobe Premiere for this and could edit out audio background noise a lot better than I can now, ahah. I think this edit sums up all of my feelings on what keeps bringing me back to this show.

I love that I got time to give pretty much every major character a moment to shine in this one, a moment to showcase their growth over the course of the show.

(love you 'till the) end of the earth

I still ADORE the beginning of this edit, and how I framed things there... If you'll notice, for every single couple I start with a very specific location shot and then a key early moment in that couple's relationship- well, those locations correspond with WHERE those early moments took place. It's their "meet-cute," of sorts.

And then also, the video begins and ends with a shot of Earth. I think that's a fun parallel too.

Dear lord, you don't want to know how hard it was to edit a relationship video like this with so few shots of Rose and Greg, though. I had to budget their shots out to make it work.

in all the universe, there’s no one else who can know what you’re going through…

This was a very interesting edit to make because it was one of the rare times that I had no lyrics to lead me- it's just an instrumental! With that in mind, I had to formulate my own "story" for the video to follow, which is harder said than done, very often.

I love what I ultimately came up with here, re: this edit basically being a chronological summary of the major sources of trauma Steven lived through over the course of his childhood. The audio voice lines are kinda rough at parts because I no longer have the tech to splice out the background noise, but I did my best, ahahah.

Cosplay

My favorite two pieces I've made myself for cosplay are these:

My 3D printed royal bow, which I literally had to set down for a good year or so because I got so frustrated while painting the details on it, LOL-

And then this cape, which is entirely hand made, with all the details machine embroidered on. All of those edges you see? I had to run every single edge through my sewing machine with a silk stitch. It took fucking forever, but god did it turn out really nice. I did this as a beginning sewer and I still am quite proud of it.

Think of my StrawPage kinda like a tumblr anon askbox- feel free to send me comments, questions, silly doodles, song recs, whatever! This is a replacement for the tumblr askbox because I was getting too much spam on here.

#nova's strawpage chaos

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tricarti · 1 month ago

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🪄 Art Tag Game

Thank you @myokk for tagging me again in another fun tag game. 😄

I don't have access to all of my drawings at the moment, but I'm shocked at how much I already have saved in my camera roll. Maybe I will share more in the future. Thanks to my mom for saving almost everything I put a pencil on. 😆

2000 - 2005

From the description on the first picture that is supposed to be my mom cleaning. 😂 The second one is my fantasy of dinosaurs and humans living together probably.

2006 - 2012

These were all school projects, but they still show what I liked at the time. I have always loved animals and was obsessed with Paris for a long time. 😄 And the first one is me on my first school day.

2013 - 2016

I didn't draw a lot in school because most of my education focused on maths and physics. I didn't choose to concentrate on art in school because I worried I would lose fun doing it, and I loved math (still do 😆).

And I did a lot of video editing and photography at the time. That was my creative outlet I guess haha.

2017

Slowly but surely I tapped back into drawing again that year. I was still in school at the time, so I spent more time dreaming of making art than doing it.

2018

I was finally out of school and did this drawing for my best friend's 18th birthday. She was already a big Harry Potter fan at the time, that's why I tried incorporating the Deathly Hollows sign into the whole picture.

And I began to fall in love with keeping my watercolor paintings simple.

2019

At that time I was tapping into Illustration a lot. I'm a big fan of scenes where a lot is happening. They remind me of the children's book I loved as a kid. 😄

And here is the first Harry Potter artwork, I guess. I was pretty sick at the end of the year and binged the movies for the first time, and after that, I fell in love with the story. The rest is history. 😆

2020

This was my first time drawing with oil paint. I still like it a lot and my dad has it still hung up in his hallway.

I did Inktober (+ other Art challenges) for the first time that year. I never used only ink for Inktober. I switched from markers, ink, pencil, and digital from day to day.

2021

Guess who was binging all the Marvel movies in 2021? 😄

And I drew some cute dogs that I found on Pinterest.

And a portrait of my best friend. ✨

2022

I still love this card I drew for a friend. I played around with markers, pencils, and some pop-up elements.

I drew a lot of animals that year in my "Inktober" challenge.

2023

I never realized how many times I drew Spider-Man haha. And hey another Harry Potter related artwork.

And some Inktober (hey it is ink this time) stuff.

2024

Last year was a little rough when it came to my creativity. I had a job till the end of the year that took a lot of my creative energy. That's why I sadly didn't draw for myself that much.

2025

I'm so happy my creativity is slowly returning back to me and that I have the opportunity now in my life to tap more into that energy.

And I have to say that the Hogwarts Legacy community boosted that energy a lot. I had so much fun seeing so many creative people on here that it made me start sketching again, and now my sketchbook is filled with WIPs.

Here are some of my first attempts to draw some fanart. I wasn't sure in the beginning (I'm still not haha) how I wanted to make them look. More stylized or realistic. Now I stick more to realistic, mostly because I try getting better at drawing people and just use these two to learn. 😂

It was so much fun to look through my camera roll and see how far I've come.

I have seen almost everyone I follow do this already so if anyone sees this who hasn't been tagged and hasn't done this, here is your tag. 😄🤲🏻

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fan-goddess · 2 years ago

Note

For kinktober:

Billy Washington x face sitting

Modern Aemond x getting caught

Tom bennettt x public sex

would adore if you could do these, I love your writing so much! 💕

Authors Note: thank you for these love and the compliment! Gonna do the Billy Washington x face sitting one here and I’ll do the other ones separately so it’s just easier. Thank you for waiting for this as long as you did, I realised I sort of did them in the wrong order ha still boo you like these ♥️

Warnings: Praising, f oral, face sitting, teasing, hint at m oral, (if I miss any let me know)

Taglist: @sofiyathecunt, @marvelgirl123, @sylasthegrim, @mochi-rose, @valeskafics, @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity, @helaelaemond @omgbrcat

You and Billy had been dating for quite some time now, and for the whole time, you’d noticed that he’d always been eager to please.

Whether that was with a nice hot cup of tea when you got back from a stressful day at work, or even just calling the local Chinese place for food when he could tell that you were too tired to try and attempt to cook anything that night.

It was also unsurprising to the both of you when you realised how eager to please Billy was in other areas of your relationship too.

“I’m back love!” You yell, chucking off your coat onto the hook and flinging your messenger bag somewhere by the sofa, before walking to the direction of the bedroom.

“Hey babe” Billy smiles, sneaking up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist and pulling you into him, so he can give you a quick affectionate kiss on the forehead.

“How was your day? Did you chat to Lana? I swear she said something about calling you sometime today… or it may have been tomorrow?” You muse, dragging Billy to the bed and laying down next to him, humming slightly in content as his arms wrap around you once more as your head rests on his chest.

“Yeah, spoke to Lana earlier. She’s doing alright for herself. Had a couple dates with that fella of hers and got another tomorrow. Had a call of the job centre too. Some mechanic place is hiring for apprenticeships and stuff and I got an interview next week.”

“Billy thats bloody brilliant!” You grin, bringing your hands up to cup his face before practically yanking him in for a deep kiss, chuckling slightly against his lips in amusement as you feel how eager Billy is for your kisses and general affection.

“I’ve got no work to do, so I’m free all afternoon for whatever you desire my love.” You grin, a mischievous smile painted on your lips as Billy’s own face turns a light shade of pink from bashfulness. It’s always fun teasing him and seeing the way he gets.

“Well, there is something I’ve been wanting to try for a while. Since you’ve been saying about me taking charge more-“

“Billy I don’t care if you’re more submissive or dominant in this relationship! I just care about you not thinking you need to bend over backwards for me! Cause I’ll be here no matter what kinks you suddenly pull out! Well, I will run for the actual hills if you suggest anything feet related, but that’s a different matter-“

“It’s not fucking feet love!” Billy laughs, the noise making your chest practically ache from happiness as the stress seems to somehow physically drain from his face.

You always loves Billy’s laugh. The small barely noticeable stress wrinkles you never tell him about seems to magically smooth away, and almost make him look strangely innocent.

“It’s… well… I wanted to maybe have you sit on my face…”

“You want what?” Your eyes furrow at Billy’s murmur. But when he repeats it louder and clearer, your breathes go ragged and you can already feel your legs clenching together in anticipation.

“I want you to sit on my face. So I can eat you out, till you can’t take it anymore…”

“Oh…” You hate how breathless you sound. But the thought of Billy doing that to you is doing too many unholy things to your head that you can’t help but bite your lip in deep thought. “Yeah… I think we can definitely do that baby.”

“Good!” It’s so precious how he smiles so bashfully in front of you. He’s like a whole new man. Like he didn’t just suggest something that made your face blush bright red from his request mere moments ago. “So get on my face now.”

Your heart feels as if it could explode with how hard your blood was pumping to your face right now, but you can’t help but nod eagerly to Billy’s demands and quickly strip yourself nude, your clothes flying all over the room as you focus on Billy, and Billy only.

You’re awkward in your movements at first, never having a man do this so intimate thing with you before, and yet Billy takes this in stride. Before you can even get to sit yourself on his chin, he grabs at your thighs and clumsily forces your whole body on his face, where you can’t help but grind slightly on as one of the most intense feelings of your life hits you.

It’s strange, to have Billy’s wet warm tongue piercing your wet cunt, and to have his nose simultaneously nuzzling your clit, but it’s amazing, perfect, and is honestly making you feel practically delirious.

Yet even with the intense feeling, the worry of suffocating your beloved boyfriend is more important. So when you try to lift yourself up a bit to give him some room to breath, you find yourself letting a loud sigh of surprise and pleasure as Billy only goes and pulls you straight back, holding your legs even tighter in his grip to stop you from moving.

“Don’t move again…” Billy murmurs, “Fucking gorgeous…”

You can only sigh in agreement, and can’t help yourself from grinding further on Billy’s eager face, completely disregarding your earlier worries. Your hands clasp desperately where they can, which in your case, is Billy’s shaggy hair that tickles your lower half slightly. Though when you tighten your grip slightly, you can feel Billy groan slightly as he eats you out, seemingly aroused by your tight grip on his body.

You quickly begin whining in approval though. “Fuck Billy so good for me!” Adoring the way he becomes to desperate to hear your praise, and the way his actions seem to quicken to appease you.

His own groans of pleasure may be muffled, but they certainly are enthusiastic, as the vibrations somehow seem to only heighten your pleasure.

You can feel the bed shake slightly, and when you turn your head slightly to look behind you, your mouth falls open on its own accord as you see Billy’s hard cock straining in his underwear. His hips even mimicking small thrusts in order to get some kind of stimulation for himself.

It’s almost endearingly amusing to you to see the small wet patch forming in his underwear from his own arousal. You think he could almost cum alone from eating you out. A thing you soon almost find yourself doing as Billy’s movements get rougher.

“Oh my god I’m gonna cum Billy!” You whine, your grip on Billy’s hair becoming rough as the knot in your stomach tightens, on the brink of bursting, only spilling over when you begin to rut your pussy on his willing mouth like a woman possessed.

It’s so intense, that you find yourself somehow more aroused and yet thankful with Billy’s tight grip on your thighs, that turns almost bruising as he makes sure you don’t almost fall off his face. And when your legs begin to cramp and you move to lay beside your lover and properly look at him, your breath feels like it’s been swept away as you see your juices shining all over his face.

You can feel your face burn red in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands as you try to hide your shyness. “Billy, you’ve got well, me all over your face love…”

You can hear him hum slightly and when you peak through your fingers to see what he does, your legs unconsciously clamp together seeing his tongue trying to pick up as much of you as he can, his fingers too trying to catch any he was unable to get with his tongue.

“You’re gonna kill me someday Billy Washington!” You grin, moving to give him a firm kiss on his damp cheek, and giggling when you see his beautiful bashful smile. The Billy you’re used too, the submissive Billy, coming back to you right before your eyes.

Speaking of your eyes, they once again trail to Billy’s crotch, where his cock still strains against the fabric of his pants with a distinct wet patch still drawing your main attention.

“Do you want me to help you out with that baby?”

“Only if you want to darling.”

Your hand teases the outline of him, your smile smug as he whines into the air. “Of course I want to sweet boy, I’d be crazy not to.”

#Ewan Mitchell character #trigger point #billy washington x reader #billy washington #Billy Washington/reader #my works #my kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #Billy Washington x y/n #Billy Washington x fem!reader #billy washington trigger point

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kandisheek · 1 year ago

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FIC REC WEEK 9 – AUs

Cold Space, Warm Welcome by Annie D (scaramouche)

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: T Words: 15,572 Tags: Sci-Fi, Misunderstandings, Pining Steve

Summary: Tony’s spent a couple of years flying around the galaxy in his best friend Rhodey’s spaceship the Iron Advance, doing what could perhaps be counted as ‘hero’ work. Among their allies is Steve Rogers, captain of his own crew, with whom Tony has a… potentially friendly relationship. When Steve’s ship is irreparably damaged, Rhodey takes him and his whole crew onto the Iron Advance to recover. Tony’s not at all nervous about this, because so what if this is the first time Steve will see him without the Iron Man armor?

Reasons why I love it: Steve is so whipped for Tony, oh my god. I adore their dynamic here, and it's so much fun to see all of Steve's fumbling attempts to make his interest known from Tony's point of view, who is utterly oblivious. And the setting itself is fantastic, it really paints a picture of what their lives in space are like. I love this fic to bits, and I bet you will too!

The Scars of Your Love by blue_jack

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: M Words: 5,462 Tags: Scars, Angst with a Happy Ending, Breaking Up and Making Up

Summary: On the day Peggy moved out, Steve stood naked in front of the mirror and looked at all the ragged lines running over his body. He felt like someone had taken a knife to him, slicing every inch open, and he didn’t understand how there wasn’t any blood. He traced one particularly thick scar on his stomach, gritting his teeth against the pain, the memory of the first time he’d brought Peggy over to meet his family and all the teasing that had accompanied it burning through his mind. He couldn’t imagine her marks ever disappearing, and in that moment, he didn’t want them to, didn’t want to ever expose himself to that much hurt again. Once in a lifetime was enough.

Reasons why I love it: Having heartbreak leave actual, physical scars on your body is such a kickass concept. Emotional pain is so real it often feels like it should leave scars, and Steve sure hasn't been spared during his lifetime. I really like how the whole later conflict with Tony is set up because of Steve's relationship with Peggy. It feels very true to Steve's character that he acts the way he does. And oh my god, poor Tony. I love this one, please go and check it out!

Missing and Ravished by SailorChibi

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 8,760 Tags: Serial Killer Steve, Officer Tony, Gore

Summary: Officer Tony Stark really did not mean to fall in love with a serial killer.

Reasons why I love it: This might sound weird, but if canon Steve ever became a serial killer, I imagine that it would be exactly like this. I love the whole premise of the fic, of Tony being torn between his duty, his morales and his emotions, and the moment it all comes crashing down is immensely satisfying. I love everything about this fic, so I hope you give it a shot!

Steve Rogers' Life Is Not A Romance Movie (He Wouldn't Get The References, Anyway) by someonelsesheart

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Pepper/Natasha Rating: T Words: 7,909 Tags: High School AU, Humor, Enemies to Lovers

Summary: Steve hasn't always had this ridiculous crush on Tony Stark. (Or, the one where Steve is his polite old self and doesn't really hate Tony Stark (unfortunately), Tony is a child progidy and apparently a cab driver now, too, and high school is still high school, even when you are the son of a billionaire.)

Reasons why I love it: Steve the spitfire makes an appearance! They're both such dorks in this, and the way they stand up for each other in front of bullies legitimately makes my heart melt. Also, Pepper and Natasha are queens, and I adore them with my whole heart. Definitely check this one out, it's adorable!

Stellar Love Affairs by AvengersNewB, BladeoftheNebula

Pairing: Steve/Tony Rating: E Words: 5,407 Tags: A/B/O (Omega Tony, Alpha Steve), Mating Cycles, Space AU

Summary: Captain Steve Rogers gets assigned to command the starship Avenger. Everything is going as expected until he sets eyes on Tony Stark, who happens to be the first omega Steve's ever met.

Reasons why I love it: A Star Trek fusion, A/B/O, fuck or die fic written by two of my favorite people in this fandom? It's like this fic was written for me! I love everything about it, from the worldbuilding to the smut to them getting their heads out of their asses and finally communicating. It's fantastic, and I highly recommend you check it out for yourself!

#marvel #stony #fanfic #fic rec #fanfic rec #ficrec #a year in fanfic recs #AUs

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