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#this comic is more colorful than my life
azmaarts · 2 years
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And That's How I Met Your Dad (Part I)
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Recently read some really fluffy RoyJay fanfics. So, here's a mini fancomic AU where Roy meets Jay who came straight back after the Pit and continued his studies!
If you see any wackiness in coloring... please ignore. I was half asleep drawing this. (Legit fell asleep while coloring Roy. IDK how I did that.) :,D
Out of curiosity, who do you guys ship with Jason (or is it just no one)? I might try some ship drawings, so please list any you guys like in the comments. Thanks!
Edit: (Cuz my dumbass can't figure out how to properly reply to a reblog :,D)
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Thank you for cleansing my soul with those tags. XD
Edit 2: Bro. I am wheezing reading the reblog tags. I love the collection. We've got the straightforward ones, the sweet-and-I-wanna-hug-you ones, and funny-AF-tags-that-could-be-a-whole-post ones. Thanks, guys! (ᕑᗢᓫ∗)
Here's the link to Part II now! :D
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zivazivc · 4 months
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Hiii!! Ufff I don't know how to tell you that I love your take on Floyd. like some bad bad life decisions were taken (THAT SO!!! INTERESTING FOR HIM). Do you think he ever feels ashamed of himself when he looks at Branch's eyes, like "shit, this guy really believes in me" or "he doesn't even know everything I have done"? Like he has some really BIG "Love me Less by Max" vibes
They all really believe in his goodness which is worse
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And OH he definitely feels so much shame and regret. I think a big part of why he fell as hard as he did was because he finally didn't have to be his brothers' mediator, and I guess at one point he forgot that he still needed to be the voice of reason for himself. His new band mates encouraging his reckless behavior didn't help. Honestly I personally think young Floyd was a very naive kid and very dependent on his older brothers but his strong empathy gave them all the impression that he was much more mature and independent than he really was...
So yeah... you can imagine that constantly partying, doing drugs and sleeping around wears someone down after a few years. I think Floyd also went gray like Branch (not for as long tho) and he broke up with the band wanting to go home badly, but he was also ashamed of showing his face after a number of years as a gray drug addict, so he kind of just ended up alone...
If we're sharing songs, I have to show you this one by Linkin Park because I think Floyd wrote it for Branch (and the rest of his family (and some parts also addressing himself)) while he was at that desperate and lonely period because I am also extremely emo
youtube
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ekat-fandom-blog · 1 year
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Jack decides he needs a bit of time away from family to mourn the loss of his one sided friendship with Vlad and Vlad's death. So he takes a trip to Gotham. On this trip, he runs into Damian and Tim, who are convinced he's Captain Marvel in disguise.
Meanwhile, Jason's also run into Jack as he's coming into his ghost powers. Jason starts freaking out because someone just saw him when his new powers started glitching. Panicking only worsens the situation as now he can't figure out how to get his foot un-caught in the cement.
Jack, despite not knowing if this kid is a halfa or not, decides to give him advice based on how Danny told him his powers work. It works.
Now, Jason has a sort-of mentor that he didn't ask for but definitely needs, and Jack has something to do while he sorts out his feelings on the whole Vlad-was-never-his-friend thing.
Eventually, Damian and Tim catch them while Jack is trying to explain how Jason might have a second form. While Jack explains, Jason just transforms. His ghost form isn't what either expected. Jack was expecting something similar to Danny's or Vlad's. Not a winged little kid with a mask.
To be honest, this just solidifies that this guy is Captain Marvel for Damian and Tim. Obviously he decided to teach Jason magic.
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starry-bi-sky · 17 days
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catch me looking up nightingale symbolisms for tales of the passerine. if danny's using the name of a songbird for a hero name, regardless of familial connections, i will utilize the symbolism tied to the bird. Anyways general gist of the nightingale symbolism i've seen, other than what wikipedia told me, is that nightingales were frequently symbolisms of spring renewal, loss/death, love, etc. catch me about to incorporate music into Danny's character
#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#tales of the passerine au#musician danny ftw. as someone who loves music i am more than happy to make this boy a frequent singer. this au is still baby#i can squeeze singer/musician danny in pr easily.#some favorite lines i saw while looking for symbolisms is that nightingales in roman culture were associated with venus and were also said#to provide comfort in the hours of darkness. eh eh? i saw a summary that in chinese folklore they were seen as symbols of hope#it didn't specify which dynasty but it did say it was a famous tale. cite also mentioned that in John Keats' “Ode to a Nightingale”#the bird’s enchanting song transports the poet to a world of transcendent beauty providing a temporary escape from the suffering and imperm#anyways looks like nightingales in gist symbolize comfort in dark times among other things#while robins in gist symbolize renewal. celebration of life. good luck. rebirth.#nightingale's color scheme in my mind is very much a dark purple-blue and black. maybe some gray too.#he'll probably try and ditch the black and white just out of paranoia. argh i need to come up with a suit design nooooo. superhero suit#design is my weakkkest design skill. have to balance between practical and a unique silhouette thats in line with their character.#esp since danny's not using his ghost half to be nightingale -- way too risky. also not using his powers/using them very little.#maybe i can work in an ocarina batman reference lmaoo. i can lean into comic/cartoon realism and have fun with that. as a treat
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bleaksqueak · 1 month
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Will we get to see how Lyra and Audun met?
Yes! Either as a flashback proper, given Lyra's story is told this way, or as an omake like I've been doing with the incidental family scenes. We'll see, even if briefly, their meeting and early life together.
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moonstruckdraws · 5 months
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The Changes Through Time
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And my project is finish! My gift to the CAS series and @somerandomdudelmao! (This is technically supposed to be for the 1 year anniversary of CAS, but I don't have the time to post it on the 12th and I don't understand the queue system lol)
I deeply love this series as I have made fanart for it before several times and honestly it really improved my art. Cass is also an amazing creator and I look forward to anything they post in the future.
(A bit of a spiel about the illustrations from this point on)
I was honestly going to go for more of a tarot card style with boarders and everything, but as I was composing the 1st illustration, I ditched the idea and just when for simple text. The third image (like how tarot cards read the past, present/current, & future) was going to be the present, but honestly I was confused enough trying to decide which illustration was the past & future with the first two. Plus the "current" state of the story doesn't have much significance yet (and references of them aren't made because it's generally their other outfits) so I went with their spirits!
1st illustration: Representing the start of it all with the current state of all the characters. Of course we didn't know the condition of Raph in the beginning, but since he remained static until Casey found him I believe it's safe to assume that he was in that state the whole time. This illustration is unfortunately my least favorite because it's not rendered the same as the others, due to it being the first fully rendered image I've done in a while. But oh well, I still like it for the most part.
2nd illustration: Representing all of the turtles resurrections with a group hug. Not much else to note about the meaning other than the fact that I almost gave Leo an arm that he does not have. This one was also the greatest to render as I had the most fun with the bright colors. This one is definitely my favorite.
3rd illustration: Representing the turtles spirits when they were dead. Though the last one was the best to render, this one was the best to compose as a whole. Mikey and Donnie were the easiest to do since their broken states were shown in the comic, but with Raph and Leo I had to be a bit creative. With Raph I wanted to show the lack of his senses due to being in a robot for a long time and everything being subconscious. It's not as strongly detailed as the others, but he did have the most stable conditions compared to the rest of his brothers. With Leo I wanted to display his lack of self physically. Since he was fading away, at first, I wanted his spirit to be more faded and weaker compared to the rest.
Nothing else to be said that wasn't said before, but I am very glad that I started reading CAS. I've never felt more invested and moved by a fanmade comic before, so this experience is actually life changing for me. And seeing others fanart for it only inspired me! I am truly amazed by Cass and this series. Happy early 1 year anniversary
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bagofshinyrocks · 5 months
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A Little Bump on the Head
Prompt: As your and Simon’s little man is exploring the living room, he bumps his head. Simon is almost more upset than the baby is. [Requested by anonymous]
Featuring: Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN!Reader
Word Count: 0.6k
Warnings: none
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You were so relieved when the little man started to entertain himself.
Watching birds and dogs outside, building blocks, sorting colorful balls and toys, climbing through a series of tunnels made by his daddy from recycling.
Simon was home as much as possible, deployments never being more than a week, and demanding desk-duty or training on base. But it was still hard to run a two-adult one-infant household with both of you only getting a few hours of home-making between you. 
And sometimes, both of you needed some sleep. Sometimes he had a late night at work. Sometimes baby decided to scream at 4 AM and scare both of you so horribly that you couldn’t fall back asleep even after the baby was all snork mi mi mi.
You were re-reading some comics on the couch, encouraging the little man as he scribbled on his coloring pages or crawled to follow the robot vacuum. Once Simon finished loading the dishwasher, he came in and flopped on top of you.
“Ohhhh, what a comfortable pillow.”
“Heavy,” you grunted, freeing your arms and wrapping them around your husband.
“You callin’ me fat?”
“Just a smidgen. In a sexy way.”
Your baby suddenly sat up and vocalized. A happy smile when his dad waved. With a great heave, he pulled himself up on the chair and started making his way over to you.
Eager coos and cheers from both of you, as he waddled from the chair to the coffee table.
A hiccup! An obstacle! Your son falls on his bum. But he perseveres and pulls himself back up again.
But he misjudges and bonks his head on the underside of the coffee table instead. He falls back on his rear. And his sweet face crumbled and flushed as he started to cry.
Both of you jerked forward, reaching for him and starting to comfort him. Simon rolled off you  and onto the floor and scooped the boy up in his arms.
“Oh, bubba,” he hushed, cradling the lightly bumped head into his chest, “it’s alright. You’re alright.”
You wrapped around your husband and gently rubbed your son’s back. He stopped fussing fairly quickly, just sniffling and holding on tight to his daddy.
The top of your boy’s head had only a slight bump on it; nothing you needed to worry about. A light reddened line where he hit the corner, and not even that raised of an egg. He had done this a couple times before.
You looked to Simon to reassure him that the boy was okay and almost started tearing up yourself. The baby was quietly leaning into his daddy’s chest, and your husband was the one fighting back tears.
“Baby,” you coo, cupping Simon’s face in your hands and kissing his cheek. Then kissing your son’s before he could get jealous. “Baby, he’s fine. Just a little bump. He’s had worse.”
Simon nodded, not trusting his voice, and kissed the top of the baby’s head.
A few minutes later, the boy was crawling through his cardboard maze. Moisturized. Flourishing. Living his best life. And now you had your husband in your arms.
“He’s alright.”
“I know but he bumped his head while coming to see me-”
“Shush. Not your fault.” You leaned him back and pinched his nose.
“He’s just learning his gross motor skills. It happens.”
Simon rubbed his nose. “They’re not gross.”
You almost laughed in his face, but didn’t, you were a good spouse. He was still upset. “As in gross motor skills versus fine motor skills.”
“... Oh.”
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Enjoy reading this? Here's a link to my other works! Thanks for reading :-)
Posted: 2023 December 25
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mamayan · 6 months
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★SWEET★
Yandere! Dabi x Fem! Darling
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Secret Santa 2023 Event!
Word Count: 4k+
Welcome to the Secret Santa Event, hosted by @ectologia (thanks for throwing this together ♡)
My Secret Santa is… @wilderuby ♥️ I hope you enjoy your Christmas present even if it’s not really Christmas themed~
cw: NSFW • Obsessive/Possessive Themes • Fem! Reader • Yandere Themes • Stalking/BNE • Dubcon • Dabi • PIV • Fingering • Praise/Degradation • Kidnapping • Psychological • Dacryphilia
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It keeps happening.
No matter how many times you’ve visited the local police station, or how often you knock on the door to your neighbor’s home, you keep finding them.
Innocently resting beside your head when you wake up, whether you sleep in your room, the living room, or even your bathroom, is a single red rose.
Never intact either, the delicate scarlet petals singed in one way or another, to the point now it seems to have become an art form. The dark veins running along inside the thin petals blackened until the rose takes on nearly a new color of ashen burgundy.
You went to the heroes, the police, your friends and family, and yet nothing has come about stopping it.
“It is odd but maybe it’s nothing?” Your friends had said, claiming it was seemingly harmless.
How could it truly be though? You locked your doors, all of them, from the front door to your bedroom door to putting padlocks on the windows. You’d awake to everything intact how you left it, not a single thing out of place… except the addition of a single burnt rose.
It was breaking you down mentally and emotionally at this point. Seemingly being haunted by a ghost, faceless and voiceless, no physical form to blame and scream at. You do scream though, after a year of it occurring despite all efforts—even moving to a new home in a different city. No matter what, when you wake up, there’s a rose. Whether you sleep in a hotel, your friend’s home, your parents, even on the damn subway.
There’s always a fucking rose. Every. single. morning.
It’s to the point where you stopped sleeping, staying up to see with your own eyes if you’re truly insane. You blink and it’s just there, even when you search, and search, and search. A rose, a little crispy, rests in front of you without fail.
It was possibly a new method of torture, but soon enough your nervous system no longer perceived it as a threat. You’d awake to the rose, roll over, and start your day. You stopped mentioning it to family and friends, and eventually it became as normal as breathing. You’d place the roses in a vase, comical at this point, and change them out weekly. A few you even preserved, out of sick humor more than actual appreciation. You’d be certain to mention you wanted no roses at your funeral, at least not red ones, and especially not scorched ones.
You became complacent, as you set your keys down upon entrance to your home, to see an entire bouquet of flowers resting on your kitchen counter. Singed red roses, and one singular black rose in the middle… this time there’s a card. A small folded note about the size of your palm, attached to a silken ribbon wrapped around the thin neck of the vase. Condensation slowly slid down the side of the intricate glass, and for some strange reason, your heart felt dread seeping into its core. Your blood felt icy and your farthest appendages chilled as you shakily lifted the delicate paper up. Several seconds ticked by as perspiration dotted your brow before you eventually sighed and unfolded the note.
Ready to come home, doll?
It was motionless in your home. Deathly silent and still but nonetheless your body shook as tears welled up in your eyes while the foreboding words registered with you. You were home, weren’t you? You knew that much. You also knew you’ve never been called the nickname doll a day in your life, at least by no person you knew.
Was it a joke? Your instincts screamed it wasn’t. You did a pathetic job of staying calm, dropping your keys noisily on the floor as you trembled and dropped to pick them up. You’d leave, stay somewhere else tonight and figure it out in the morning—
“Going somewhere?” You hadn’t head even a footstep. You could see in front of you now a pair a beat up leather boots. Dark jeans lazily bunched up around them with a few nicks and tears in the denim fabric. Your eyes continued up until you were staring at a man.
Bright blue eyes, framed by thick dark lashes, stared down at you. His skin was like patchwork, staples actually pierced through healthy looking flesh while connecting what looked like chard leather to it. His skin you realize after a moment. Some healthy, some burnt, while he stood casually over your crouched form with his hands shoved into the dark trench coat he wore over some ratty band t-shirt. You didn’t watch the news often, hardly ever since your stress was high enough dealing with your own issues, but you knew who this was.
What villain this was.
“Dabi…” you barely even breathed his name, almost inaudible despite your close proximity, but it seemed he heard just fine as a slow forming Cheshire grin spread his lips wide open, revealing his white teeth and sharp canines.
“What’s that doll? Y’look like you’ve seen a ghost, speak up, can’t hear ya down there.”
You were right to feel dread. This was likely the worst scenario possible, one you truly hadn’t even thought of. A notorious villain leaving roses for you? Who’d believe such a ridiculous thing? Even you were struggling to believe it.
“Th-the roses…?”
“Hn? Thought I said speak up.” The waning of his smile shouldn’t have your blood pressure spiking as it did, but you scrambled to speak louder as those violent blue irises blazed.
“Did you—uh, a-are the roses from you?” You slid back, nervous as he stepped forward, eye lids growing heavy as he settled for a smirk on his lips.
“Bingo.” He confirms, not a hint of shame or embarrassment in his laxidazical tone.
You heart hammered against your ribcage, eyes briefly leaving him to look at the bouquet on the counter, mind running faster than a hamster in a wheel. He seems fine just staring at you, expression unreadable besides shallow amusement. He’s giving you time to think, and something in your gut is telling you to tread with caution.
What does it mean to leave roses for over a year for you, every single day? No matter how difficult it was made to do?
Someone in love or someone with a grudge. He doesn’t look the part for either, but the bouquet and strange note having you leaning towards some kind of affection for you. However disturbingly he shows it.
Swallowing thickly, nails scraping on the tile floor, you give a wobbly smile.
“T-they’re very pretty… thank you.”
His eyes briefly widen, head tilting as he observes you with a keener interest than before.
“Yeah? Y’like ‘em, doll?” Doll, that nickname again, you wonder if that’s how he refers to you in his mind. You never likened your appearance to a doll.
You nod with a short jerk, smile still plastered even as your bottom lip wobbles minutely.
“I-I do,” it’s more nerve wracking to be staring up at him from the floor, so you make a show of moving incredibly slow, standing on fawn like legs as you reorient yourself with your own feet again. “You gave me a bouquet this time…” even standing you’re forced to tilt your head back to look at him.
“I did.” He confirms, and the sweat sliding down your spine begins to cool as you shiver. You keep wetting your dry lips, struggling to truly grasp how you’re supposed to get the hell out of this situation.
He seems to visibly enjoy your panic and nervous ticks, watching you pick at your nail bed while he makes you stew in confusion and unanswered questions.
What do you do when the country’s top villain stands in your kitchen? You don’t have a quirk that can compete with him and you sure as hell regret squandering the times your friend encouraged learning some self defense.
He’s not in a hurry it seemed either, leaning a hip against your counter while he continues to observe your every movement. His presence made the space around you appear smaller, like he was sucking the energy from the room.
“Are you…” you look down at your feet, “…going to kill me?”
He snickers, catching your gaze again as it flicks up briefly.
“Nope.” He pops the p with a smile.
You don’t feel relieved.
“Are you going to hurt me?” A better question in all honesty.
“Maybe, probably.” He admits casually, shrugging as if it can’t be helped.
Then the best question for the evening, one still festering in your mind, “Why me?”
The air shifts, the scent of smoke like a campfire, wafting over to you.
“Asked myself that question a lot,” he stands up straight, removing his hands from his pockets. He ignores your flinch, coming closer even as you backed up into the counter. “Asked what the fuck is so special ‘bout you,” he jabs a finger into your chest, eyes flaring as he immediately flattens his palm and lays it over your heart. “To make me like this.”
He smells like campfire and something with chemical undertones, his breath held traces of menthol and tobacoo.
“Y’know what conclusion I came to sweetheart?” The way he said sweetheart was laced with venom.
He’s so close you can feel the heat radiating off him.
“W-what?” You don’t really have an option but to ask. He looks manic, languid expression sharpening into something dark and terrifying as he smiles.
“That it doesn’t fuckin’ matter. That I can do whatever the fuck I want, when I want, how I want. Not you, the heroes, or the shitty cops can do a damn thing to stop me.” He leans back, face melting again into something akin to pure satisfaction.
“Why you? It’s your own fault, doll, should’ve tried harder not to catch my attention, don’t’cha think?” It’s like he’s mocking you, eager to get a rise from you as anger and humiliation burned in your soul.
You shook in rage. Fists clenched at your sides as you urged the tears in your eyes away. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry like this.
“You’re a fucking asshole.” He laughs as you bite out the insult, a deep belly laugh, nearly doubling over as if you’d told the funniest joke possible.
“Wrong move,” he fakes at wiping a tear, eyes crinkling at the corners before your scalp is suddenly on fire, a gasp yanked from your lips as you're hauled up and back to the floor. “Said I’d probably hurt ‘ya, didn’t think you’d sass me so early. That’s okay, I’m good at breaking people, fix that mouth real quick.” He murmurs, as if he’s not using your hair like a lead and making the tears you’d fought back so hard earlier fall.
“Hurts!” You grunt, now putting up a decent struggle as you fight back.
He ends that quick with a flick of his palm, blue flames lighting up your darkened kitchen and striking horror into your soul as he waves it around in your face.
“Think I won’t do it ‘cuz I won’t kill ‘ya?” He asks, his eyes matching the flames he produces, filled with a sick sort of glee.
“I’ll make your face look like mine if you keep acting up.” That shuts you down quickly, going limp even as he releases your hair to grip your arm, dragging you through your home with confidence to where everything is, going straight to your bedroom.
“W-wait—! Dabi please, I-I’m sorry,” he stops in your doorway, looking down at you with over-exaggerated sympathy.
“Poor thing,” he coos, no less gentle as he drags you to the bed and pushes you down. It’s a gentle landing, but your panic gives you energy as you try to quickly crawl away. He grips your ankle, his palm heating so quick you hardly realize you’d been burned until you screech, teeth clenched tight as you struggle to even breathe. It hurts so much.
Your will to fight ends as he climbs above you, shrugging off the trench coat and yanking his t-shirt over his head while grinning at you.
“Too early for cryin’ doll, that one won’t even scar.” He looks disappointed by that fact. “Now, I can be nice ‘n sweet if you’ll be good for me…or I can push your fucking face in the mattress and take you like a filthy whore. Pick or I’ll pick for you.” His shift in tone as he tells you to choose how he’s going to rape you instills a strange sort of hopelessness inside you.
He doesn’t care when the water works start up again, rolling his eyes as he watches you weep and tremble like he’s done anything worth crying over yet to you.
“Well babydoll? I’m so fuckin’ hard right now you won’t like the choice I make for you.”
“Sweet…” you’re all curled up like a kitten doused in water beneath him.
He’s unbuckling the belt around his hips, tugging the denim down and his boxers along with it as he grunts.
“C’mere” he all but growls, yanking you up again and pulling at your clothing, quick and efficient in stripping you despite your actions mimicking the nickname he’s given you. Acting like a doll in his embrace as he tosses each article of clothing you wore off to the floor until you were down to your bra and panties. He’s yanking at your bra first, eyes greedily drinking you in as he leaves your top bare finally.
You sniffle pathetically, any attempt at hiding yourself useless as he uses his knees to knock yours open, fitting himself in between as he messily licks two fingers and shoves aside your panties to rub at your folds.
“Hgn!” Your eyes open wide as he crassly works two fingers into your dry cunt, his saliva barely enough to grant him access to the tight confines. “D-Dabi—,” your nails are digging into his arms, tearing at a seam of staples and causing a few small trails of blood to stream, but he’s too focused on you to truly mind.
“Y’asked for sweet doll, means you need to relax and let me in,” he explains, like he’s not stretching you open and jabbing his thick digits inside you despite your weak protests and groans of pain.
Your body gives way to the intrusion after a few minutes, adrenaline fading and leaving you almost exhausted as your cunt lubricates itself to ease his passage.
“There ‘ya go,” he murmurs almost hoarsely, letting you go when he sees you’re being obedient enough and using that freed hand to grip his leaking cock.
Your eyes track his movement, watching him grasp the thick appendage hanging heavy between his legs.
You note before even his size the piercings, not just one or two but a multitude lined his cock like a weapon more than a sexual organ.
Dabi notes the hitch in your breath and where your eyes lay, proudly running his thumb over the ladder of piercings up the spine of his shaft to the tip where two small stainless steel balls rested.
“Scared?” He teases, relaxing himself as he jerks his cock and relieves a little of the ache which had been building in his balls. Curling his fingers up, you gasp in surprise at the pleasant feeling which accompanies the action.
“Nah, you ain’t scared, doll. Not a coward, y’would’ve run a long time ago but you stayed ‘cuz you like this. You like knowing someone is out there willing to do anything to have you,”
“I don’t—,” he cuts you off with a sharp thrust up, pressing into the rough textured spot along your gooey walls.
“Shh, y’should know I don’t like liars, especially not ones who get exposed by their cunt dripping all over the bed.” His smile is filthy, lecherous gaze running along your sweaty exposed skin as he just keeps hitting that spot inside which makes your toes curl.
“P-please stop, Dabi I can’t—,”
“Still lying?” He asks, more amused than angry as you try your best to twist away from the pleasure now wracking your body.
“How’s this doll? You drop the Dabi bullshit n’say Touya when you’re about to cum, okay? Y’listening?” He stops working himself over, freeing his hand again to tap your cheek and catch your clouded watery gaze.
“Try it out.” He orders softly, sweetly, like he’s trying to be gentle but the way his fingers fuck you is anything but sweet or kind. The loud lewd squelching exactly as he said earlier, a confession to how much your body at least enjoyed his careless attention.
You huff, mouth opening to choke on a moan as he adds another finger, fingers wrapping around his wrist where they attempt to halt the sudden oversensitivity inside you.
If anything he jams his fingers inside you harder.
“T-Touya!” You hope he’ll stop. Hope he ends this strange psychological torture as your stomach coils up tight.
He doesn’t, Dabi merely groans in delight and chuckles over you, leaning down to slot his lips over yours in a kiss as messy as he’s making you down below.
His soft top lip is contrasted by the rough feeling of his bottom, but his kiss is hot and you can taste the menthol now. His scent is strong, and you catch a hint of his natural odor beneath the smoke and tobacco. Your cries are silenced by his lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth when you open to complain. You shiver as you feel the drag of a piercing on his tongue, the light touch somehow more erotic. He parts sloppily, saliva connecting your lips for a moment before you flinch as he spits in your mouth.
“Open your fucking mouth.” The tone he uses and language are harsh, and you tearily do as instructed. “Stick out your tongue.” He murmurs a bit more nicely this time, humming in approval as you obey with shaky hesitation.
You won’t hesitate soon enough, if he has anything to do about it. He’ll make his words gospel in your cute brain and have you eager to listen to his every command.
Dabi lets his spit hit your tongue slowly, watching you pant like a dog with your tongue out as he brings you closer and closer to your release. The way your walls clamp around his fingers and constrict makes his cock weep to sink inside you already. “Touya—!”
You cum when he finally allows you to swallow, gushing and throwing your head back while he fucks you through it, laughing as you tense up and beg for mercy and try to escape the pleasure he’s delivering relentlessly.
“Good fuckin’ girl, say my name baby, let me hear it.” Dabi nearly loses it himself watching you shatter, eyes wide and wild as he keeps going. “Touya pl-please…hn!” You keen almost like you’re in pain, fingers digging into his shoulders now while your legs kick out.
“Y’asked for sweet, doll, means you get to cum as much as you want tonight.”
That wasn’t what you’d thought it meant, even as you choke and cum again, this time more softly as he slows his furious pace to something manageable now.
Dabi smiles at the fucked out expression you now wear, pliant in his hold as he maneuvers your body, hoisting your legs up and pressing them to your chest as you whimper in protest.
“You can stay nice ‘n pretty like this doll, doing so good f’me.” He’s not very assuring as he murmurs to you while positioning the weapon he’s armored on his cock at your dripping entrance, tapping his tip a few times on your puffy clit as you moan and twitch, view perfect to watch how he slicks himself up. “T-Touya…” he moans as he catches on your entrance only to slip up, eyes looking at your face as he licks his lips and tries again, enjoying the soft warm feeling of rubbing on your cunt.
“Yeah doll? Need somethin’?” He grins, his cock finally breaching that tight ring of muscle that lets him sink into your hot welcoming depths. “Fuck, been dreaming ‘bout this cunt for so long. Y’know how many times I’ve had to just cum on your sleeping face instead of fucking you? All the times I could’ve just woken you up and had you?” He moans, laughing at the horrified and almost strangled look you gave him, his chest vibrating with a laugh as you mewl like a cat in heat when the first row of piercings sinks into you. “Like ‘em baby? Fuckin’ looks like you do, they feel good in your little pussy?” He moans again when you accidentally bare down on him, the tightness increasing painfully as you whine when his piercings dig in too much.
“Easy doll, let me in,” he murmurs, dark hair falling into his face as he braces above you with one arm, lithe muscles taunt as he works his hips a little at a time into you, enthralled with how you fit around him enough not to slam himself inside all at once.
When the top balls of his piercings kiss up against your cervix, you’re ruined, face a mess as you struggle to adjust to the stretch and sensations.
“S’too much, Touya—” you can only cling to him, eyes drawn to where he’s sunk his entire fat cock into your depths, the way your body contorted giving you the best view.
Your words have the opposite effect though, his groan guttural as he drags himself out, drunk on the feeling of your pussy and lost to it.
“Keep sayin’ my fuckin’ name, lemme hear ‘ya scream babydoll,” you go to protest again, when he slams each inch back into you, the ribs along his cock now working in tandem with his thrusts, effectively shutting you up as you squeal and dig your nails into his shoulders for purchase.
Dabi fucks you hard and deep, speed unnecessarily to keep the air from your lungs as each thrust feels like it’s hitting up in your stomach, the pain and pleasure blending until you aren’t sure if it truly hurts or not.
He sets a steady rhythm, watching your body shake each time he lets his hips fall like a hammer, seeing his cock swallowed each time by your greedy cunt until he’s delirious at the sight.
“Pretty fucking slut, look how your pussy takes me.” He’s spewing filth at you, but when it should offend, it instead makes you burn hotter, his name falling from your swollen pouty lips like a chant.
“This cunt want me to breed it? Fill your pussy full until you can’t take anymore?” You shake your head in denial, unable to truly form words anymore as he picks up his pace, fucking you hard enough to make your headboard slam into the wall. Each thrust accompanied by a symphony of wet slapping, his balls tapping your ass each time his groin kisses your own. “Bet it does, huh doll? This greedy little cunt keeps begging for more.” He loves the dichotomy between your sloppy pussy and the way you shake your head. “No? Y’sure doll? Think it does. Don’t like lyin’ baby, remember? You want me to punish you?” You shake your head again, a bit frustrated when he slows, letting you feel all of him inside you like this, his weight keeping you pinned.
“Shakin’ your head ain’t an answer doll, I’ll be nice ‘n give you another chance, but I expect a fucking a verbal answer this time.” He’s like a light switch. Either on or off but much more terrifying when he flips it on, eyes and voice menacing as you cough and answer in a husky voice. You don’t want to test him on the punishment, truly you don’t, as your ankle still fully throbs in the back of your mind as a reminder of what he’s capable of and who he is.
“I-I like h-how you do it now…” he cocks a brow, sinking deep and then pressing even further so you whine and try to push back further into the bed.
“Y’like how I’m fuckin’ you now? That it, doll?” You go to nod before remembering his warning, swallowing thickly and voicing a soft agreement.
“Hmm… then y’oughta say it, right? Tell me how good I’m fuckin’ this pussy.” He growls, bright blue eyes lighting up as you moan, his pace increasing again as you blabber out whatever nonsense you can to satisfy him. Whatever would make him be sweet, because you have a feeling you don’t want him any other way.
“S-so good! Mhn, f-feels so good Touya, pl-please, ah,” he’s being too rough, your eyes watering and tears spilling as he drills into you, but even still you feel yourself close to coming again as those piercings rub perfectly inside you.
Dabi lifts up, letting your legs fall to either side of him as he grips both your hips tight and fucks you more aggressively. Jackhammering into your gummy walls like he’s eager to imprint the shape of his cock inside you, mouth open and brows furrowed while he groans feeling you tense up again, this time around his dick.
“T-Touya—! M’coming, oh fuck—!” You look painfully suprised when you realize how much it all becomes as you cum, the peircings becoming more prominent as you spasm and clamp down on him, eyes rolling back as your vision slightly blurs.
“Yeah y’are doll, fuck, that feel good? Looks like it did.” He chuckles, chest swelling with a deep satisfaction as he fucks you harder despite your weak whines, overstimulated cunt begging for a break despite how he bullies himself inside you.
“Tell me where you want it,” he’s close, panting and overheating even as he nears his end.
“N-not inside…” he laughs at the soft reply, thrusts only getting deeper as he resorts to simply humping into you for friction after you tighten up so much it hurts to go harder.
“Can’t pull out though doll, look how tight you’re gripping my cock.” You aren’t paying attention, mindlessly moaning as he finally gasps and cums, cock twitching deep inside you and filling you up despite your earlier request.
He nearly collapses on you, chest rising and falling quickly as he regains his breath and relaxes on your soft chest for a moment to recouperate.
When he’s caught his breath, he leans up, slowly pulling out and watching his heavy load immediately spill from your hole.
“Tsk,” he uses two fingers to scoop up what dribbled out, stuffing it back into you as you sleepily huff and press a hand against his chest.
You’re helpless to stop him, too exhausted to fight more and figuring it better to let him have his way than risk his wrath right now.
Once he’s satisfied he’d stuffed you back up well enough, Dabi is quick to leave the bed and begin redressing, speaking casually with you despite your lack of answering.
You watch the villain act as if nothing had occurred, face the same smug arrogant grin when you’d first spotted him.
It’s when he returns his attention to you that fear begins to trickle back into your blood stream.
He seems to notice too, smile growing with your apprehension.
“Now doll,” he crosses back to where you’ve sat up and covered yourself with a blanket, weary gaze locked with his.
“Ready to come home?”
Then it’s dark, your vision going out with your consciousness as Dabi catches you in his arms, dragging your limp figure from the bed and into his arms quickly.
He’s kind enough to wrap you in a sheet as he takes your house keys and phone, shoving them in his pocket as he leaves your place with you in his embrace.
He whistles on his way home, a bit eager to see your expression when you wake.
He figures you’ll learn to like your new home once you realize you’re never leaving it.
He even decorated for the season, the tree a little burnt but he’s sure you’ll appreciate the sentiment.
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Dividers/@cafekistune
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yabakuboi · 30 days
Text
merman steve pt 2
a continuation of this for @spectrum-spectre, now with some pre-steddie~!
Henderson is skulking around in the cereal aisle when Eddie spots him.
The kid has been a bit of enigma to Eddie since he met him at the beginning of last fall semester. Dustin had a tight group of friends, but often times, he caught the gang of them sans Henderson and the fact seemed to annoy the hell out of them.
"He just goes off on on his own sometimes," Baby Beyers would say.
"He won't tell anyone where or why or with who," Mini Wheeler would snarl.
"And it's definitely not to talk to his girlfriend, because we hear ALL about that," Big Sinclair would sigh, rolling his eyes.
So catching kid creeping around the grocery store minus the rest of his party, after hearing many complains of his mysterious disappearances? Color Eddie intrigued.
"Hendersooon," Eddie sang, wrapping an arm around Dustin's neck to keep him from escaping. "Whatcha doing?"
"Eddie!" he said brightly, grinning at him. "Just buying some snacks. Hey, which cereal do you think a fish can eat?"
Eddie stares at him for a moment, blinking. "Uh..."
Henderson's face scrunches up. "I guess he's not really a fish though, so I'll try whatever." He grabs a box of Honey Combs from the shelf.
"Dude, are you keeping a sea turtle at your house again? You know that's illegal."
"No!" Henderson snaps, flushing. "And I was going to take Dart back after show and tell, I had already promised Steve!"
"Steve?" That was a new name. Eddie hadn't heard Henderson talk about a Steve before, and the guy was kind of a motormouth and a terrible liar. The only time Eddie had seen him actually avoid a topic was when his little disappearing acts were brought up. "Who's Steve?"
Henderson's eyes go comically wide. "No-one! I don't know any Steves!"
Eddie knew at least three Steves, and two were in Henderson's grade. "Uh-huh."
"Anyways," Dustin says, clutching the box of Honey Combs to his chest as he backs down the aisle. "I gotta go man, nice seeing you, bye!"
Bemused, Eddie watches him go. He's planning to give Henderson a five minute head start before he goes to tail him, but apparently, he needn't to have planned a stake out after all. Henderson finds him again, two aisles over, panting and red-faced.
"Actually, can you give me a ride?"
🧜‍♂️
"Eddie," Henderson says, voice even more serious and deadly than the time the party took on Vecna last month during their campaign. "I need you to swear that you will never, ever tell anyone about what I'm going to show you."
Eddie cocks a brow at him. "Is this a drugs thing? Dude, you—"
"No!" Henderson snaps. "This is not a drug thing! This is a very serious life and death thing, and I need you to swear on you life you won't tell anyone about it."
"Dude," Eddie says, a little in awe. He stares out his windshield for a moment where they're still parked just outside of town. He can hear sounds of the ocean just past the ridge, waves crashing on the cliffs. It's a remote little area, opposite of the tourist favored beaches. Eddie, in fact, deals just a few miles down the shoreline from here. "Did you bring me out here to kill me? Are you the world's dorkiest serial killer?"
"Eddie." Eddie turns to look at him. His face is grave, brows furrowed with real worry. "I'm serious."
"Okay... Okay, then."
"You have to swear."
"I swear."
And just like that, Henderson's face breaks into a bright smile. "I knew I could trust you!" he crows, grabbing up his bag from the store and kicking open his door.
Eddie stumbles out of his van after him, listening intently as they pick their way over the rocks.
"He's so cool, Eddie, you're going to love him. He totally saved my life when I was like ten and I got pulled out on a rip tide. Like, I really almost died dude and then he just swims up out of no where and helps me catch my breath. Helps me float there while I'm freaking out too until the life guard finally came out to get me. It was crazy! I come out here all the time to visit him, I think he gets a little lonely. So it's good you're here, I've been trying to think of someone else to introduce him to, but it's hard to figure out who's going to freak out and try to sell him to Sea World, or something."
They crest over the hill to a tiny little cove bitten out of the rocky shore, and carefully begin to make their way back down to the water's edge. Eddie's still not entirely sure Henderson hasn't brought him here to die. Maybe Steve is the serial killer and he uses Henderson as bait.
"Okay, okay," Dustin says, once they reach the water. It's calmer here, the cliffs cutting this spot off from the larger waves. "Are you ready to see the coolest thing EVER?"
"Uh, sure, kid—"
Eddie doesn't get the chance to finish his sentence when he starts yelling.
"STEVE THIS IS EDDIE I BROUGHT HIM TO MEET YOU I PROMISE IT'S SAFE!"
"Jesus Christ," Eddie hisses, covering his ears. The lungs on this kid! "What the fuck dude— WHAT THE FUCK!!"
Because when he looks down, there is a face in the water. Eddie falls back on his ass, uncaring of the water soaking his jeans, and screams when the face in the water rises up out the ocean.
It looks pissed.
"Dustin," it says, glaring at Eddie. Eddie screams again, because it—the guy—the mermaid lifts himself fully onto the rocks, and he doesn't have any legs. Because he has a fucking tail.
A fucking fish tail.
"Steve!" Dustin cheers. "You came out."
"You sure?" the goddamn mermaid asks, finally taking his piercing, alien eyes off of Eddie to look at him. "Sure it safe?"
"Absolutely," Dustin says hastily, crouching beside Eddie to put his hands on his shoulders. "Eddie just screams a lot, I promise you, he's totally safe."
"R-Right," Eddie says, because he does not want to be eaten. Maybe Dustin's been dragging unsuspecting victims here to feed his pet goddamn mermaid instead of a serial killer. "Totally safe, that's me."
Steve, the goddamn fucking mermaid, looks him up and down doubtfully, and it's terrifying having those eyes on him, unnaturally yellow surrounded by black. His face is distressingly human, nose and mouth and ears with a mop of dark hair on his head. He has these bright shimmering scales across his cheekbones that dot down his jaw and neck, iridescent and glimmering in the afternoon sun. Eddie can't bring himself to look down further, scared and enraptured all at once.
Steve is terrifying and beautiful to look at.
"Fine," says Steve and pushes himself gracefully back into the water, disappearing into the dark depths.
"What the fuck," Eddie breathes. He looks up at Dustin with wide eyes. "Dude, what the fuck."
Dustin just grins down at him. "Isn't he the coolest?!"
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xhoneygirlxx · 9 months
Text
Watermelon Sugar
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Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
summary: Eddie shows you the eight wonder of the world. his mouth.
warnings: reader and eddie are 18+, established relationship, fluff, Eddie being a munch. nicknames/pet names used (baby, honey, sweetheart, etc.) MINORS DNI 18+ smut: fem oral receiving, blowjobs mentioned, talks of past sexual experiences, praise/body worship, swearing. *Skin Color/Ethnicity not mentioned! not proofread, spelling errors and horrible writing.
if I miss anything plz lmk!
a/n: hello my loves! thank you all for the kind words and reactions on my last couple of posts! as you all know smut is not my forte but I felt the need to write this. am I projecting??? maybe but we’re gonna pretend that i'm not :)
The low hum of Steve Nicks’ voice plays through Eddie’s room, the soundtrack of your makeout session with your boyfriend. Orange glow from the late afternoon sun comes through the window, an angelic glow casting around the frizz of the mentalhead’s hair.
It started as an innocent day, hanging out together in a comfortable silence in his room. Him doodling in his notebook and you flipping through one of his old comic books. Somewhere along the way a featherlight touch turned into shared giggles, sitting in his lap turned into a chaste kiss, and it ended up with him in between your parted knees, kissing like his life depended on it.
A curtain of curls block out the skylight, tender lips on yours like melted honey, and big hands roaming down the expanse of your body. When Eddie moves away from your mouth, he takes the oxygen from your lungs with him and you whimper at the loss.
"Gonna let me have a taste of you, pretty girl?" Big doe eyes shine down to you, way too eager and excited. Your stomach twists into knots, the training you put yourself through in case of this moment, has all been for nothing. What do you say to the man that hovers over you with so much love in his eyes?
"How about I suck you off instead, hmm?" You try to come off as sensual but instead you sound scared.
It's an offer that you've made so many times over the short course of your relationship with Eddie. This was your first real relationship besides the eight grade love affair you had with Simon Willard. That only lasted a week.
You weren't anywhere near a virgin, that so called sacred part of yourself is now in the possession of a random boy you met on vacation before your senior year. Hookups weren't uncommon to you but what was uncommon to you was the affection you received during the sex.
People you've hooked up with never really cared to get you nice and ready the way Eddie does, prepping you with two or more fingers, working you open so that it doesn't hurt going in. Guys didn't care if you got off or not, they were just looking for a hole to fill and someone who wouldn't get clingy.
You had guy friends, including Eddie before you started dating, and you heard the horror stories they had of going down on a girl. It was never in mean spirit, although the discussion should've stayed in the bedroom, but it still scared you shitless. How one girl didn't properly take care of herself, causing the smell to be rancid. This girl didn't wipe the right way, leaving scraps of toilet paper down there. And the one that really settled itself into your brain, was how good or bad a girl tasted.
Of course you, and all of your guy friends, knew that girls didn't taste like ice cream, or strawberries, or candy. It was made up, another bullshit beauty standard for woman to worry about.
You had paid attention to the way guys would ask you if you wanted it done. The way they would sigh and roll their eyes like it was the biggest task of their lives. You would end up telling them that you're more of a giver than receiver, and that you just weren't interested in that whole thing. When they would release a breath of relief you would fill with shame, almost like you were the one who requested it to be done and had been turned down. The embarrassment of rejection you didn't even ask for.
So when you and Eddie first had sex as boyfriend and girlfriend, you made it your mission to never let that horrid question come from his mouth. You always made sure to offer him head first, and if it looked like he was about to ask, you'd simply tell him you couldn't wait anymore.
Now here you are, under him, ready and willing to take him in your mouth, and he's gotten the question out before you could beat him to the punch.
"Ya know I will never say no to that, sweetheart. But-"
Uh oh. That's the word that comes before a life or death sentence. It's hanging heavy over you, the once comfortable silence is now killing you. Squeezing all of the air out of your body, limbs going numb with the loss of circulation, all the while your ears ring like an explosion has gone off.
"I want to return the favor." It's so sincere when he says it and it makes you want to cry. A boyish smile taking over his mouth, deep dimples appearing on the fat of his cheeks.
You must look like you've seen a ghost because the pretty smile that was written on his face is now taken over by worry.
"I mean, I don't have to. It's just- I feel like," Eddie's a panicked mess, backing his face further away from your own. The small bubble of love that the two of you created has now been popped with your own doubts and fears.
"I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I just thought I could make you feel good s'all." The confident man that you know all too well is now reduced to a fumbling and anxious person. His fingers work at the chunky silver ring on his finger, twisting and twisting and twisting it around.
"You just always, I don't know. It just always seems like you never ask for head and I just wanted to offer it to you, I guess."
The whiskey eyes that never left your gaze won't even look at you anymore. Focusing on that damn ring that goes faster and faster the longer you wait to respond. You want to run and hide. Dig a deep hole and never come out. Your lovely boyfriend who's done nothing but treat you like the queen of the goddamn universe, now thinks he's made you uncomfortable.
Embarrassment rushes through your veins, throat closing with the grip of shame making it harder to breathe. Tears prick your eyes, hot and heavy, ready to fall at the drop of a dime. You feel so guilty for not just telling him the truth, for not saying all the concerns that you had. Even before you started dating Eddie always confided in you, telling you the deepest secrets that kept him up at night and you couldn't even tell him this one thing.
"I'm embarrassed." It comes out in a sniffle, lip wobbling beneath the teeth that hold it down, trying to make it go away.
"I'm just embarrassed I won't be good. That I'll be another conversation for you and the boys to drink to. Will I taste good? Do I smell weird? Does it look pretty? All of these questions circle my brain and I'm so fucking scared that you won't like me anymore." It comes out like word vomit, so fast and uneven in tone that you're not sure if it even made sense.
You don't have time to think it over anyway, Eddie's too quick putting his hands on your cheeks, gently making you look up at him. The same kind eyes that you always see meet yours. Thumbs gentle swipe the fat tears off of your face, his cold hands extinguish the flames of your skin.
"Honey, I promise you I would never, ever do some dumb shit like that. What the guys and I talk about is irrelevant, half the time they don't even know what they're talking about. I felt the same way when you wanted to suck me off the first time, every single question you ask yourself is what I ask myself." Eddie's eyes are searching yours, looking and waiting to see the dread leave your head.
"Like I said before, I would never want you to be uncomfortable but if you're okay with it, I'd really," He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, "really," he continues to place more delicate kisses around your face, "really love to make you feel so fucking good."
When he's done, he looks back down to you with a dopey smile, he's low and hazy drunk off of you. A smile tugs on your own lips, so warm and fuzzy off of him. You know he means it and you feel sad that you even questioned him. Childish laughter rings out between the two of you when he pinches your sides, tickling out the stiffness in your body.
When the laughter dies down, he asks you again by cocking his eyebrow up in question. Nodding your head, you give him a confident yes, something you didn't feel the first time he asked.
Moving down your body, trails of kisses are left on your skin, mapping out his journey to your center. When he reaches the hem of your pants, he looks up to you once more waiting for a reply. Encouraging him to go further, his chilled fingers douses the warmth radiating off of you.
Leaving you only in your polka dot designed panties, Eddie teases you by running his fingers up and down your thighs.
"I gotta say bub, I love the pink dots. Top notch fashion if I don't say so myself." Eddie jokes and it makes you giggle. Swatting lightly at him, he returns the laughter.
"I'm not lying, I swear! If only you know what you do to me." As much of a joker Eddie is, he was never one to joke about your beauty. He found everything you did, said, and wore so fucking breathtaking and flawless, he'd probably get hard from the sight of you in a Tin Man costume.
"If you, at any time, want me to stop just tell me. I won't get mad, just let me know, okay?" Eyebrows scrunched with seriousness, Eddie makes sure to be loud and clear with his instructions.
"I promise, Eds." You say and he takes that as the green light.
Eddie's index finger teases your cloth slit, running up and down so slowly it feels like torture. When you lift your hips looking for more friction he snorts lightly.
"Patience, my love." His fingers continue to dance over your panties, running back to the top of the band and pulling them down in a swift motion.
When the cool air hits your wet seat, you whimper slightly at the feeling. Eddie has seen your pussy multiple times, but when he spreads it with his fingers, you can't help but feel shy, closing your legs around his arm.
"Don't go shy on me, baby. I just wanna see the prettiest picture I've ever seen." His eyes are still trained on the glistening of your sex, glimmering like bright pools of water.
It feels like an hour of no movement from Eddie before he goes to change his position between your legs. Shuffling back on his knees, he picks your thighs up to place on his shoulders as he lays on his stomach.
Still having doubts, you lean up on your elbows, watching your boyfriend to see what his reaction is. To your surprise, he looks like a kid in a candy store, awe and wonder swimming around in the big brown pools of his eyes.
When an obscene sniff rings through the air, you can't help but cringe a little. Waiting for him to look repulsed, you're again astonished when all your met with is a feral look.
Very tentatively, he runs his flat tongue from your hole to the top of your clit. Moaning deeply, he moves his gave up to you. A smirk breaks out on his features, so devilishly and mischievously.
"Oh baby, you have no fucking clue how good you taste." There is no questioning in his cadence. It's smug and cocky and it makes you shiver with need.
Repeating his motions from before, you mewl at the feeling, lifting your hips again. The chuckle that comes from Eddie vibrates off of you, make you move you squirm. Reaching his strong hands around your thighs, he holds you in place with his firm grip.
When the wet muscle breaches your needy hole, you fall back onto the bed moaning out in pleasure. He works your open with it, flicking it in and out efficiently.
Pulling out of you, he moves up to your bundle of nerves. Starting slowly, he circles around once or twice, before working it in figure eights.
You melt into the bed like a popsicle on a hot summers day. There's not a single thought in your head other than the feeling of his mouth. You're a livewire come to life, so sensitive and lost in the haze of pleasure.
You think this is the precipice of ecstasy but then one of his thick fingers enter you and his mouth sucks hard on your pulsing clit.
It feels like fireworks on the fourth of July, bright and explosive, big loud bangs ringing out into the night sky. It's like the feeling of going down the big drop on a rollercoaster, tingling deep in your belly and a rush of adrenaline pumping through your veins. It's like winning first place, heartwarming and shocking all at the same time.
You feel all these things at the same time, every single one of them caused by the actions of your boyfriends mouth. It's overwhelming and so fucking delicious but you can't say anything than cry out in bliss.
Letting go of your clit with a pop, Eddie's head pokes up at you like an excited puppy. "S'it feel good baby?" You want to answer, you really do but the way he sneaks a second finger into you and crooks them at the perfect angle makes you lose all motor skills.
"Awe, honey" he coos mockingly, "Is it that good?"
"S'good Eds, so good." You're a blubbering, crying mess. So hooked on the feeling of him, hooking on the feeling of how he made you feel.
He doesn't say anything else, too busy pushing his face back between your legs. His motions go faster, fingers hitting that sweet spot inside of you that he only managed to find, his mouth switching between motions, driving you closer to the edge as he does.
The string in your belly is pulling tighter and tighter, barley hanging together by a thread. You're a thrashing, sweaty mess on his bed, gripping the pillow underneath your head that your knuckles will probably be stuck in that position. You don't care, not when he's moving his head back and forth, slurping up your wetness like a handmade milkshake.
It's filthy, down right dirty the way it sounds. The noises that carry out into his room echo so loud the neighbors could probably hear. The squelch of your wetness being pounded into by his hand, the way he's drinking you up like a dehydrated plant, the moans that escape out of your parted lips.
"Eddie, please. FUCK, please." You're blathering at him, not even sure at what you're asking for.
Separating himself from you again, he continues working his fingers deep into you.
"You wanna cum, pretty girl? S'that it? Wanna cum all over my fingers?" You moan louder in response, clenching around him harder as you do.
"Go ahead, be a good good and cum for me. Come on, honey. Cum for me." That's all you need to hear before you're hurtling off the edge of your release.
You release with a silent cry, all the air being punched right out of you. Your body feels weightless, like you were thrown up into the clouds and not being able to come down.
Your whole body shakes, tears streaming down your face, all while your hole pulses and quivers around Eddie's fingers. A gush of wetness coats his fingers, a big puddle under your ass, leaving another stain on his bed seats.
He watches in awe as you hit your peak, how your back arches off of the bed and how you look so fucking perfect like this. The shy girl that never got experience this kind joy, now swims in the ocean of euphoria of the climax. He feels so lucky to witness this, to be the first and last person to ever see you this vulnerable.
Eddie wishes he could paint this moment, make a portrait of the way your kiss bitten lips form the perfect O, make the brushstrokes of your hair and some of it sticks to your sweaty face. You're so beautiful and he doesn't know how blessed to be yours.
When you float back down to earth, to the springy mattress of Eddie's, you take a moment to catch your breath. When he removes his fingers from you, you weakly hiss from movement and he offers a quiet sorry.
Moving back up to his knees, he hovers over you and smiles brightly down at you. Smiling weakly back at you, he uses the hand that's not supporting his weight to place it on your jaw. His thumb brushes back and forth and you melt right into it.
"How was that?" Pink tints his cheeks, grinning ear to ear.
You chuckle weakly, shaking your head in disbelief.
"I think I went to outer space for a second there."
A booming laugh leaves his chest and it makes you smile even harder. Your heart feels so full and so happy. You're so in love with him and it makes you delirious. You want to see him like this for the rest of your life, big smiles and even big laughter, so pretty and delicate only for you.
"Well I'm glad you enjoyed yourself there, space cadet." Leaning down to press his lips to yours, your soak in the feeling of it. When he moves away you pout at him, and he bops you on the nose with his finger.
"I was thinkin' I could return the favor, big boy." You whisper seductively.
"Oh baby, that sounds wonderful but-," He makes eye contact with you, "I need to be in you like yesterday because that, right there was the hottest thing I've ever witness."
"I happen to be a romantic. So I shall wait until my fair maiden is okay to resume our activities." Closing his eyes with pride, he places a hand on his heart.
Hiding your face with your hands, you bust out laughing at his little antics and when you peek between his fingers you see his teeth flashing back at you. Removing your hands from your face, you tuck a loose tendril behind his ear.
"You're a dork, but that sounds good to me."
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Thank you all for reading! I loves you all and hope you enjoyed!!!
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lackadaisycats · 3 months
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Why does Fablepaint draw such mean spirited art of Rocky. Is it a personal sense of humor kind of thing? Or does disturbingly mean spirited art the only way for FablePaint to draw this character. Is it possible for some more lighthearted and optimistic stories regarding Rocky to show up anytime soon? I’m not saying this to try to be offensive or aggressive, I just think the world’s depressing enough, why make the fictional world sad as well. I do love the comic, I just wish it was happier.
I don't think Fable's art of Rocky is especially mean-spirited. At least no more so than mine has been. Rocky has always been a character with a knack for getting himself into trouble. I do know that Fable likes Rocky and finds various aspects of Rocky's personality and circumstances pretty relatable. I think a lot of what you're seeing actually comes from a place of affection, and maybe even a little bit of vicarious self-deprecation. I will tell you from my own experiences, this is very common among creators (myself included). A character may not be an intended self-insert of any sort, but you inevitably still end up with bits and pieces of yourself reflected therein. And in many ways, you're also inevitably sorting out some turmoil close to your own heart through the character and the story they inhabit.
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About the broader topic of sad things in fiction... Yeah, the world is harsh, cruel, and unfair even at the best of times, but I don't think art that fully disregards this does much service to anyone. The most fluffy, pastel-colored, marshmallow-mild media will still tend to present us with some conflict, because that's how a story manages to resonate. It's hard to convey something meaningful about human resilience, or abiding love, enduring friendship, confronting inner demons, triumph over injustice, or about the absurdity of living without acknowledging the darkness. Even if you're just writing something to make light of the implacable dark, it must be there for you to laugh at.
I think it's fine to use fiction as a temporary retreat from your own real life concerns. And I think it's fine to have comfort characters who you turn to when you need some uplifting. There are a lot of really sweet and lovely fan-works featuring Rocky out there that are much gentler with him than Fable or I will be. You can stick with those! That's okay! But canonically, he's part of a story about a tumultuous time in history, and a tumultuous time in his own troubled life. He's a flawed character surrounded by other flawed characters. He's willfully taken on the role of a violent criminal, in fact. And though I don't think the story of Lackadaisy is without happy, silly, lighthearted aspects, it's not only that. I can't change that without undoing everything I've been working toward. I hope that's understandable.
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meanbossart · 3 months
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Oh boy, VaM is kind of a trial and error experience LOL I couldn't really show you how to use the interface and stuff without a whole video or something, but it's not THAT difficult to get a hang of if you just give yourself a day or two to play around, not to mention the number of tutorials you find out there. Luckily, if you only want to use it as a reference software that makes the process far easier (to this day I have no idea how to animate on that thing, since that's not what I use it for)
As for how I use it, it's pretty self explanatory - if there's a complicated pose I want to draw but I'm either having trouble with it, or just want to double-check angles/anatomy, I will use it as a resource! I use for most of my "proper" pieces (y'know, the nicer looking ones) and every once in a while for my silly comics if I'm having trouble with a pose.
Lets use this drawing for example (the character on top of DU drow belongs to @namespara )
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I don't draw a lot of mud-wrestling (shocking, I know) but I had an idea of the kind of pose I wanted them to be in. So the very first thing I did was make a rough sketch of what I was envisioning:
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I often do a rough sketch first, even If I know I'm going to be pulling the program up because A) It's less tedious than adjusting the models over and over again until I pick a pose and B) because sometimes I'll decide I don't need the reference, after all, and so that's 30 minutes I'll have spared myself of playing around on the software.
Now, this is a pretty complicated pose! It's in a weird angle and the bodies are making contact in ways I'm not used to depicting, so I did choose to whip out VaM for this one. I went into the program and after some messing around, I flopped my little dolls together like this:
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Now something really cool about VaM is that you can completely customize your models, and if you have the patience, I would definitely encourage you to do so! Obviously, you don't have to make picture perfect replicas of every single character you have, but as you can see here I have made a DU drow "decoy" to help me better understand some of his features when I draw him: he has a strong brow, a short nose, a square jawline - these are all going to look a very specific way from certain angles, and I might not always be sure of how to draw it right! So it's useful to have models that bear SOME semblance to the character so you can better understand how different viewpoints will affect their bone structure and mass.
Also thank fucking god for the elf-ear slider. Figuring out how to draw those shits from certain angles was a huge pain in the ass when I started drawing DnD races.
So, with the reference in hand, I go over the sketch again:
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Now you may notice that I don't stick to the reference 100%. There's three reasons for this:
posing on VaM is tedious as hell. You can get something incredibly natural looking and picture-perfect to reference from if you wish, but it's going to take you hours to do. So, for the most part I just slap guys together until the results are "close enough" and use that.
In my opinion, you should always aim to ENHANCE your reference material, not replicate it exactly!
While VaM is a PRETTY DANG GOOD source of anatomical reference, it isn't perfect, I often supplement it with further reference from real life resources or make tweaks based on my own knowledge where I catch it falling short (and, antithetical to what I just said, I sometimes fuck the anatomy up further on purpose if I think it looks better that way LOL it's all jazz baby).
Then lines, color, yada yada. I don't have a tutorial on that and I don't think I could make one, because my process is chaotic as hell, but I do at times use Virt-a-mate as loose reference for lighting too when coloring - waaaaayyyy less so however, because that process is even more tedious and I feel like I often get better results by just winging it. It is a feature of the program though, and I'm sure it would be helpful for someone who has a difficult time visualizing lights and shadows. I only started using this program a few months ago, so I happened to already have a pretty good understanding of that kind of thing and just don't personally feel like I get much out of that particular mechanic.
Here's a few other examples of pieces that I made reference for (WARNING: Suggestive)
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Now, for the question many of you may want to ask:
"Can I trace this junk?"
And to that, I say: Buddy, you can do whatever the hell you want with the reference material you created.
However,
If your goal is to learn and improve your art, and to recreate realistic proportions and anatomy from memory, tracing won't help you.
Developing your own style, your muscle memory, and personal technique will all be hindered by choosing to trace instead of drawing from observation, so I would encourage against it. Hell - even when tracing is employed as a technique, it's usually by high-skill realism & concept artists who are looking to either cut some corners, save time, or just double-check their own proportions in order to improve further - if you try tracing as a beginner, you will most definitely find the result to still look stiff and "off".
So trust me, there is so much more to be gained from drawing from observation. Make note of tangents, compare proportions, use all the elements of the picture to dictate where and how things should go - it will be a far more rewarding experience.
Hopefully this has been helpful! VaM is a really cheap program (you get it on the guys' patreon for I think 8 dollars, just google it!) and it's definitely been worth my money as an artist since I found it. Learning to use it can be a little intimidating at first glance, but as I said above you only really need a day plus one or two tutorials to get a hang of the interface.
A fair warning though, IT IS A SOFTWARE MADE FOR VIRTUAL SEX/ADULT ANIMATION So when looking it up expect to see a some spicy content.
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campbell-rose · 6 months
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Alastor Redesign
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Omg there’s like over 70 people following me – guys I'm o///O flattered and flabbergasted. 
Anyway, onto today’s main event, Alastor. I hate Alastor’s og design, I hate his twig waist and his shoulder pads and the way you can’t see his antlers next to his ears, and his bow tie ugh viv please and his HAIR what even is that??? Not even mentioning that nothing about his design is really like a focal point. There’s no one thing that’s particularly interesting. At least before this he had that cathedral window looking cross on his undershirt that I found interesting. Nothing about his says he’s from the 1930’s other than dialogue. 
I wanted him to be in greyscale because that’s the coolest aesthetic, and colored photos weren’t a thing until way after the 30s. Recently I saw jjk, and Jogo’s teeth threw me because at some points I thought he was just straight up toothless. But then when I started this design, that colored tooth look spoke to me. Initially his teeth were yellow to look gross like he never brushes them, but then I was like ‘ayo wait, he’s literally a cannibal’, thus his vibrant red teeth to really pop against his greyscale. Initially his undershirt was white, but I feel like that was too much contrast and white is typically innocence, so by instead having a deep red it shows he’s just straight up bloodthirsty underneath his formal appearance. I also considered it being black, but then he looked like a pastor, and I wasn’t too much of a fan of it. The idea of the red on his design is that it leads your eye down his design to take it all in, with his face being the focus. I gave him glasses because I like the way it obscures his eyes a bit and I imagine they do the anime thing where they glow and hide his eyes. I liked Viv’s idea of sinners having marks where they died, and I slicked his hair back to show it off very prominently. His antlers are larger, I gave him cute lil deer ears. Also, under his suit he is lowkey buff. I feel like a serial killer should at least look physically capable of taking someone down not whatever the fuck viv’s nasty twig men can do. Like, in that comic with the cute sheep girl, when Alastor goes demon mode his body looks so snappable I just wanna like grab his waist in my hands and break it like a twig. I also tried to keep his design simple as if this were for animation, I know pinstripes are complicated and so are antlers but other than that I tried to keep his design basic. 
If I were to rewrite him based solely on the pilot, I honestly wouldn’t change a thing. Alastor is a decent character, his voice actor gives him life, the radio filter is cool, and nothing he did made me want to break my screen (ANGELDUST). The only thing I'd change would be his position in hell. Like, viv’s hell is so wack and I hate it, she’s got the princes, then the goetia and the overlords and then sinners and blah blah, it’s a lot to keep track of, not even mentioning the rings and circles thing. I think Alastor should have had dealings with hell as a human, maybe he routinely did sacrifices or something, and he made a deal with the archdemon Alastor and when he died like... uuhhhhhhh. Maybe through connections he’s gained more power? Idk, I just know I hate the idea of his dying and then having like the bestest most powerful demon powers despite not being hellborn. It’s got this mary sue stench. I’ll figure it out, maybe, who knows. 
I’m not gonna start rewriting since there’s nothing to go off of and alter yet, so that’s gonna have to wait until the show actually drops before anything concrete happens lol. 
Also the sheep girl is a sinner that reoccurs in the show now so sorry I don’t make the rules, you can’t give me a cute sheep girl and try to take her away, I’m gonna redesign her and shove her into the plot as someone looking for redemption at the hotel
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mpekamitzii · 17 days
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More shenanigans of my bird guy
Text transcript +images id under the cut !
First image: On the top left corner there is a greyscale portrait of a man in his 20s with short messy dark hair and a few feathers, multiple moles and marks on his face with pierced ears. His eyes are a striking orange colour against the black and white. He is smiling gently at the camera.there are notes next to him reading:
-Hair texture inconsistent,stray hairs might turn into feathers
-Lots of moles/freckles/acne scars
-unusual eyebrow shape that resembles owls' ear tuffs. The fringe is darker than the rest of the hair for the same reason.
-pierced ears
-third eyelid
-subtle expressions/ quiet demeanor
Below that there is a stylised drawing of a Eurasian Eagle owl and two separate drawings of Ryan's eye, one has the iris a light brown color and the other an orange color. The notes say:
-masked eyes (Light brown) / natural eyes (Bright orange)
Below that there is another drawing of a Eurasian eagle owl with a real life reference picture next to it and two simple sketches of ryan illustrating the text below.
-remember! Owls cannot roll their eyes so Ryan instinctively turns his head around to inspect.
Second image: two comic panels. First panel shows a woman with long hair poking ryan in the back, saying "yo", and the second panel shows him turning his neck 180 degrees like an owl replying "no touching". The girl screams "CHRIST ALMIGHTY DONT DO THAT AGAI-"
Third image: two drawings of ryan giving the side eye, showcasing how big his irises are with the sclera only showing when he looks sideways. Below that there is the same action but it's two sketches of a dog also giving the side eye illustrating how similar they are.
End id
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avelera · 24 days
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One thing I find really fun and interesting when writing Hob Gadling (Sandman) in fic is to keep front and center that he’s the one of the only immortals I know of in fiction who is completely anti-nostalgia.
That’s not to say Hob can’t have fond memories, or keep mementos or relics of happy times.
But I don’t think we have a single canonical instance in the comic or show of Hob waxing poetic about how good things used to be. Quite the contrary, when actually asked about what the world used to be like, he says, err, colorful things like this:
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And when it comes to memories of past lives and lovers, we get scenes in Hob’s Leviathan like this:
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… which is actually Hob throwing away what appears to be a photograph of himself from his previous identity, alongside his previous lover (or wife), Elspeth seen earlier in the comic. Truly severing ties with that previous life. (Which is not to say he always does this, he seems to deeply regret pawning his portrait of Eleanor for food in the 1600s.)
This is unusual because most immortals in fiction have some past era that they miss. Or keep some historical affectation, like an accent, or slang, or clothes or hairstyles, which are slightly or even wildly out of date for the present day.
But Hob doesn’t. In the show even more than the comic we really get to see that he updated everything, including clothes, accent, slang, and pronunciation to blend into the latest era. There’s no sense that he misses any previous era and he enthusiastically embraces whatever new thing arrives, like his clunky mobile phone in 1989.
I just find this really fascinating because I think the knee-jerk tendency for writers when portraying an immortal is to make them a product of their time, brought forward to the present. The logical thing would be to have them prefer some time period or aspects of a past time period over another, or fail to be completely up to date on some aspect of life, just like your grandparents might not be up to date with the latest slang.
But because this is such a logical way to depict an immortal, it borders on cliche if not done thoughtfully. What sets Hob apart and makes him such an intriguing character is that he bucks this trend. He doesn’t prefer the past, he thinks every new innovation is brilliant, from chimneys to mobile phones. He doesn’t stick to old ways of speaking, he rigorously adopts the latest slang and pronunciation. He doesn’t wax nostalgic about how things were better in his day. If anything he seems to firmly leave every previous era in the past, as seen when even disposing of a picture of his past identity with his past lover as part of moving on to the next identity.
It’s just something I find worthy of keeping firmly in mind when writing him, as one of those unique little details that make him feel authentic to his character, as seen on the page and on screen, as opposed to falling to my own instincts (often lazy ones) to make him a more standard issue immortal as seen in other stories.
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it-is-only-a-novel · 1 year
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Aspec symbols
So I've been trying to gather a list of aspec symbols! Old and new, widely accepted, but also more obscure. Here's my list so far, including links and explanations (in italics) where possible. I've tried also to add in the specific labels that the symbols "belong to" where relevant/possible.
Arospec:
the color green (and anything green)
white aro ring which is worn on the middle finger of the left hand link
aro flag
archery (bow & arrow)
arrows of any type
frogs they are green (this is a more general queer symbol as well) link & link
yellow roses (& yellow flowers in general, seems to be more for alloplatonic aros, since yellow represents platonic love) link
sunflowers (aroallos) aroallo flag colors link
aardvarks link
anglerfish link
manticores link
rats link
nandays and caiques link
griffins link
phoenixs link
anatomical hearts distancing ourselves from the regular outlook on love, and/or love in general may be more for loveless and/or heartless aros
<2 link
succulents green
cacti green & many do not want romantic partners and can be seen as prickly, or want to be prickly
plants in general green!!
"no romo"
hummingbirds (aroallos) link
pineapples (aroallos) link
pizza & ice cream link
kiwis link
the emojis:🫀, 🏹, ↖️, ↗️, 🌻, 💚,🍍, 🍏, 💘 explanations: link
paper crowns references jughead jones from the archie comics link
Acespec:
dragons link
cake cake is better than sex link
garlic bread
the color purple
black ace ring which is worn on the middle finger of the right hand link
ace flag
space
pirates "Ace pirates aren’t interested in your booty" link
wolves
ghosts (demisexuals) link
axolotls
denim vests
cryptids
AVEN triangle
ace cards suits: spades-aroaces, Hearts-Alloromantics, Diamonds-deamisexuals, Clubs-grey-asexuls link
the emojis: 💜, ♠️
some of these are based off this post, and this master post
Aplspec:
the colors blue & yellow in the apl flag
apples (green apples can be geared toward apls that are also aros)
blue heart 💙
bees
iridescence
apl flag
blue roses link
Blue apl ring on the thumb link
based off of this post, explanations are there.
Aspec:
aliens & robots reclaiming stereotypes about dehumanization link
Artemis goddess in Greek mythology focused on her passion for hunting. Represents finding fulfilment in other aspects of life not only sex, romance, friendship, love, and so on. Also used a bow & arrow link and also my own interpretation from reading about her
Many thanks to @merely-a-caricature, @the-big-gayheart, @heartless-aro, @arosunflower, @saffigon, @crab-in-progress, @aroace-thoughts, @apl-aro-narc, @entropy-sea-system, @dateademisexualpersonwho, @legally-x, @askanaroace, @aroace-people-are-lgtbq, @the-amber-droid-dreams, @foolishfynnesse and @itsnotasecret20 I used their posts/reblogs/comments to compile many of these symbols (and I've linked the posts). If I've missed someone, I apologize, it isn't intentional!
Last edit: 23/2/2024
I also want to add, that this post doesn't include all aspec identities, such as agender, afamilial, asensual, and more. They are important parts of the community, but I'm only informed on some, so couldn't include them.
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