#another pose practise

[mistrall-art]

I never drew Alua in her party outfit :'D

Still not it, but it's a start; I imagine she'd wear more jewellery. Also right side view to avoid drawing her tattoo XD

#my art #wayfarer #wayfarer if #digital sketch #monochrome sketch #oc: alua briadis #mistocs: alua #another pose practise

[byhees]

romance tropes.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 3000 genre fluff varying au fake relationship childhood friends2lovers love at first sight roommates2lovers soulmates enemies2lovers opposites attract warnings not proof-read kissing skinship mention of darkness — more

a/n. blank

fake relationship trope | heeseung

starts with an intent of being a publicity stunt; it’s only meant to create media attention, and promote the release of a drama that you both are starring in.

wanting to make the whole scheme believable to the public, you both devote the highest degrees of effort into this.

wearing each others clothes out in public to ‘keep up with the agenda’; finding yourself wearing his shirts and hoodies far more often than your own.

meticulously planning ‘candid’ photos, and intentionally uploading them to your socials at around the same timestamp.

coming up with more ridiculous stories about your ‘relationship’, and laughing at how unbelievable, yet surprisingly believable, they sound.

calling each other late into the night, under the excuse of ‘fake-dating practise’; it’s not said, but neither of you wish for the conversation to end— you both are secretly enjoying one another’s company.

trying out flirtatious lines on one another, and feeling a light flutter of your heart, as though interpreting the words, which feel far too real, as actual flirting.

suddenly using pet names, like ‘baby’ and ‘love’, just because it feels natural to; gazes that feel like real love, without the need of forcing or pretending.

both subconsciously seeking the other’s hand, fingers interlinked, palm pressed against palm; the feeling of wanting to do this for a lifetime, to capture the snugness and warmth of this moment in time.

after a reminder of it being fake, you both are brought into a state of uncertainty of when, or rather how, the line between your careers and your hearts, blurred into nothingness.

“you didn’t stop me when i kissed you…”

“that’s because i didn't want you to stop.”

childhood friends to lovers trope | jongseong

him leaving a mark on nearly every memory of your life; in photo albums, he’d be there, posed with a radiant smile. in notebooks, his doodles would be left unerased on the corners.

being the first to practically everything in one another’s childhood— first playdate, first trick-or-treating buddy, first photobooth experience.

inside jokes that only you two can understand; mentioning one of them in passing, and watching in pure adoration as the other tries to recollect memories, and has that lightbulb of realisation.

being comfortable to initiate casual affection with one another; hugging each other at random moments of the day, laying your head on the other’s lap, and even holding hands.

creating nicknames for one another, and using them despite the passing years; jokingly calling the other ‘babe’, and leaning into their embrace, eliciting confused brow furrows from surrounding friends.

playfully teasing the other and mentioning childhood experiences, sparking a sense of nostalgic remembrance in the air; jay initially finding your smile a gentle surge of serotonin, a sunbeam that’d grace his mornings, afternoons, and nights. now, he finds it heart fluttering, like a symphony of heartbeats— there’s a ballet of butterflies in his chest, and it feels different from before.

recreating childhood pictures together; going to the ice skating rink, and gauging if your skills have improved. him breaking your falls by offering himself as tribute, and feeling his heart thump at the sight of your face, in close proximity with his.

him holding onto every lighthearted “i love you”, replaying your words in his head, and wanting to hear them slip from your lips once more.

him using the secret language that you two created back in elementary school to write a love letter, pouring out all his feelings.

“there’s never been a day that i haven’t thought about you.”

love at first sight trope | jaeyun

accidentally bumping into the other whilst on a walk, books from the previous hour of library browsing tumbling onto the concrete ground; him scrambling to help pick the fallen paperbacks, hands inadvertently brushing against the other’s.

him taking a glance up at the owner of such a heavy stack of books, and being absolutely starstruck; time wavering, mind absolutely entranced by celestial visage in front of him— that is, you.

breath hitching in a symphony of awe, body frozen in the uncomfortable stance; the cramp forming in his legs being long forgotten, the thought of getting your name being more important than anything else in the world.

the mere locking of your gazes told him words; that’s the one.

he’s almost left second guessing himself; from not believing in phenomenons such as ‘love at first sight’ to experiencing it firsthand.

quick apologies and swift scurrying that don’t seem to process in his mind. his gaze lingering on your fading figure, wanting to absorb everything that’d just happened.

being unable to disregard the incident, head still rewinding images of you; hoping under the stars that’d fate would play its strings.

almost forgetting the radiance of your eyes, and the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, until that one day.

meeting again in the most unprecedented of ways, as though the world had just weaved your paths together, a response to his endless wishing; being united under the shelter of a solitary umbrella in the midst of a sudden downpour, laughter dancing like the falling raindrops.

making sure to get your name this time, not wanting the chance to slip away from his fingers again.

“i’ve never felt this way before, and truthfully it scares me. but, the idea of never trying scares me even more.”

roommates to lovers trope | sunghoon

him hesitantly opening his doors to you, after much conviction from a mutual friend; acquaintances would be the best word to describe your relationship.

being extremely awkward with one another, and hiding behind the comfort of your bedroom doors; the only interactions being short greetings of ‘good morning’ and trips out to the kitchen for a bite.

coincidentally cooking meals at the same time, and having to move around the other, bodies bending in strange directions to avoid the other.

trying not to hit anything, or bump into each other, when there’s a power outage; keeping arms fully outstretched as a distance radar, and keeping communications to short, panicked “sorry”s, and “found the circuit breaker”.

dividing errands amongst the two of you; small quibbles about who’s to take the least liked chores.

getting stuck in the bathroom, as a result of negligence to call a locksmith; the other sprinting to grab a screwdriver, silent hallway being filled with their nagging.

slowly starting to cook for one another, and coming up with excuses to avoid their confused questions.

having movie nights that start happening more frequently the more you two bond; him purposefully choosing a scary movie, because he likes to tease you for clinging onto him all night.

accidentally falling asleep on the couch together, and being flustered beyond words the next morning.

gradually asking to borrow one another’s belongings, like clothes, and realising how the other looks downright adorable in them.

getting worried when the other comes home too late at night, eyes glued on the front door, fingers floating above the call button, hesitant to contact them.

jealousy when you go on dates, and come home telling him all the details; pretending that he’s interested in those little things, and putting up a very straightforward front when responding.

finding it cute when you deliberately avoid him like the plague in the mornings, head constantly turned away from him to hide the redness of your face— perhaps his morning voice is a little too nice to listen to.

drunken confessions, where you go on a spiel on how “unbelievably pretty he looks, especially with his tousled bed hair”, how “your heart aches whenever he falls ill”, and of how much you “like him, more than a roommate, or a friend”; he takes care of you, mind whirling and heart pounding at the suddenness of it all.

pouring his morning cereal into a bowl, and nonchalantly saying “i like you too, yn”; perhaps you choked on your drink, eyes darting up to the glance at him. he’d have the smallest of smiles on his face, as though restraining the urge to giggle.

“i love you, i love you, i love you. and i’ll repeat it how ever much you’d like.”

soulmates trope | seonwoo

the world being draped in shades of black and white, every vista and wisp of existence cast in a monochromatic light; constantly feeling the missing piece of your life.

silently envying those who have cured the phenomenon of grayscale panorama, their arms interlinked sweetly, kisses planted on one another’s cheeks, faces seemingly flushed and pink from overflowing affection— there’s not much of a difference from your perspective anyways.

being desperate enough to scour the streets for your destined other-half, and feeling silly for thinking that the idea would work.

rushing to catch a bus one day, and accidentally bumping into another person, coffee pelting out of the little cup in hand; looking up in pure horror, mouth already opened in the preparation of an apology.

eyes meeting with the equally-as-mortified stranger, and time pausing in response; with the brushstroke of their gaze, the universe looks as though it’s painted anew.

colours flowing into shared reality, the once-muted world blooming with sheer iridescence; gasp slipping from your lips in realisation.

skies painted a shade of cerulean blue, emerald green radiating beneath the feet of surrounding passers-by; being able to see the reddish-pink hue of his lips, the raven blackness of his head of hair, the light blue shirt he’s wearing (though there’s a hazelnut brown stain from the coffee, near the center).

wanting to stay close with the other person, for fear that the ability to see colours might be robbed once again; completely forgetting the incident from earlier, and taking a seat by the nearby park to simply talk.

gradually getting to know the other person— their hobbies, their occupation or schooling major, and more importantly, their name.

establishing a friendship, and starting things out slow; being more comfortable with the other person with time.

him being able to initiate small forms of skinship, such as tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. him being able to be casual with you, often sending pictures and videos of his daily life, and lightly adding that he wishes you were here with him.

being more than happy to make time for one another, wanting to be in the other’s presence for ‘just’ a little longer.

taking care of the other when they’re sick, not hesitating to cancel scheduled plans, being ready to dart over to the nearest pharmacist for medicines; staying over to cater to the other’s sickly needs, and willingly sleeping on the floor next to the bed.

both of you naturally reaching out to hold the other’s hand, finding the action far more comforting that it actually is.

bonding over shared interests and reveling at how common your likes and dislikes are.

“if the multi-verse exists, then i hope that you’re my soulmate in every one of them.”

enemies to lovers trope | jungwon

the classic ‘competition to be the valedictorian of the year’ between the student council president and vice president.

being forced to work together for a project, and deliberately staying up till the late hours of the night to research heaps of information, hoping to out-shadow the other.

purposely going out of your ways to irritate the other person; it’s the small, petty inconveniences that throw you off the most.

banters that are short but potent; pretending that you two weren’t just arguing seconds ago, in front of other students and teachers, wanting to maintain the perfect image in front of their eyes.

comparing marks with the other after every assessment, even small tests that don’t count in the final grade; having the biggest grin after seeing that your score’s even half a percentage higher than his.

being paired together on a project once again, except he doesn’t exactly pull his weight, leaving his portion of the slides empty, to sparsely edited. you’re annoyed, or rather borderline enraged at the lack of participation, only to find out that he’s sick and overworked.

now, you take it upon yourself to take care of him, buying little vitamin bottles from convenience stores, reminding him to take his medications and drink water regularly— for the project, of course.

finding that you’re going out of your way to share your packed lunches with him, but still doing so anyways— ‘it’s for your overall credit score’, you tell yourself.

still caring for the other, even after the project’s been graded; subtly gazing over at his direction, and feeling a smile instantly tug at the corners of your lips when he frowns in a combination of disgust and confusion at your hard staring— great, he’s perfectly okay.

both of you being unable to sleep one night, mutually bored out of your minds; you’d be browsing the internet for some interesting slices of life, when an email notification would pop up; he’d spam your inbox with small, disconnected sentences, hoping that you’d respond and entertain his own state of bore.

somehow staying up most parts of the night emailing, unknowingly spending hours lightly bantering and teasing the other, smiles and giggles uninvitingly appearing every so often.

helping the other with academics, almost as though forgetting the intense rivalry in the air; video-calling one another and sharing opinions on an essay. additionally, giving study tips that are supposed to be top-secret and confidential.

buying the other snacks and little drinks because why not.

him finding you asleep on a table in the library, and draping his school jacket over your shoulders, not wanting you to freeze in the presence of a chilly air conditioner.

sitting beside you during your nap, and convincing himself that it’s to guard your personal belongings; after a mere glance at your sleepy face, his heart skips a beat, heartstrings unknowingly pulled on. he simply wants to stay there.

walking you home after late student council meetings; no matter the weather— it could be thunder-storming— he’d always walk alongside you, disguising his feelings for another lame excuse.

using old nicknames to address the other person, except this time, there’s a sprinkle of endearment lacing them.

being puzzled at how you’ve strayed away from your initial goals, mind now wholly focused on the other.

“why are you doing this to me?”

“doing what…?”

“making me like you. stop it, god damn it, i’m not supposed to— i’m supposed to not— this goes against every moral that i’ve ever set for myself..!”

opposites attract trope | riki

a metal guitarist and a classical violinist having to share the same practice room due to scheduling errors on the school’s part; to sum it up, it’s not great.

the mixture of riffs, which crackle like lightning, and notes, that shimmer like stardust, don’t go well together— similar to how you both don’t get along well (or at least, that’s what you two thought).

with one being an absolute bookworm, and the other pursuing basketball as a beloved hobby, interests clash; it doesn’t seem like there’s a common standing ground for you both to relate to.

going to the library one day, and being in a quiet sanctum of the place, standing before a towering bookshelf; eyes solely fixed on that one paperback at the top of the shelf, the words on the cover calling out alluringly.

tiptoeing in an attempt to decrease the height disadvantage, fingers reaching out and barely brushing against the hard spine of the book.

him coincidentally strolling in with the intent of finding a friend, only to see you by the edge of the library; noticing, and going over to offer his help.

after coalescing his intentions into words, he reaches up and grabs the book of interest, narrowly preventing you from yanking at the very foundation of the wooden shelf.

briefly explaining the meanings behind the paper and ink of the book after spotting the furrow of his brows, and the brief turn of the paperback.

standing against the shelves, and flipping through the book, rippling the silence of the air at that particular corner with the flutter of pages; inadvertently giving him a form of motivation and inspiration, like a fresh look into his music.

going back to the practice room, and sitting on the polished wooden floor to continue the flip through; he can’t quite tell if he’s more interested in the knowledge-filled content, or if he’s more intrigued by the constant flipping of his stomach and the racing of his heart, at the sight of ethereal grace in front of him.

him looking forward to attending practice, because he genuinely wants to hear more about these book anecdotes and undermined poetry.

him being keen to know more about you; your favourite foods, your go-to ice cream flavours, your hobbies, vice versa.

bringing a bottle of your favourite drink the next practise session, and leaving it at your designated area; not forgetting to stick his sticky note on the table surface, the words ‘good morning’, and the doodles, being greeted by the morning rays seeping through the windows.

exchanging contact informations, and smiling a little too hard whenever you both text one another.

him developing a habit of patting your head, or ruffling your hair; finding it really cute whenever you tiptoe, and stretch your arm outwards to give him a pat back, standing victoriously afterwards.

 buying you a cute stuffed animal for valentine’s day, and being a tad bit too embarrassed to admit that it’s out of genuine love; using lunch period to try out boxed chocolates together.

cheering one another before an important musical performance; tight hugs, gentle hair strokes, light shoulder squeezes and reassuring smiles.

finding it ironic how your differences became the very threads that stitched you both together; perhaps it’s possible for there to be a portrait of harmony amidst a canvas of diversity— you two simply just compliment and complete one another.

“i know i say this a lot, but i really do adore you.”

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @crxzs @g4m3girl @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

#૮ ྀི ◞ ◟ ა ? #kflixnet #enhanet #k labels #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios #enhypen drabbles #enhypen reactions #enhypen headcanons #enhypen soft hours #enhypen soft thoughts #enha fluff #enha scenarios #enha imagines #enha drabble #enha reactions #enha headcanons #enha soft hours #enha soft thoughts #heeseung fluff #jay fluff #jongseong fluff #jake fluff #jaeyun fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunoo fluff #jungwon fluff #niki fluff #riki fluff

[survivalove]

Katara the selfcare queen

Every canon instance or mention (that i can rmr) of Katara indulging in selfcare in the middle of a war because I find it quite amusing yet fascinating.

I may or may not have made a post like this before but I wanted to expand on it.

1. Skincare routine

In 1x14, The Fortuneteller, Katara reveals she has a special seaweed lotion that she carries with her for soft skin. (Avatar Extras also made a point of saying that it smells…?) She even offers to get Aunt Wu some, as if she has extra. So my question is, who is this plug that she gets her steady supply of seaweed lotion from? 😭

Real-life: Seaweed has been used in skincare for thousands of years, first recorded in ancient Chile. Nowadays, seaweed extract is pretty common in skincare products especially from emerging brands in Nunavik and Iqaluit, Canada.

My headcanon: This is probably a recipe Katara picked up from the older women of her tribe, so she just plucks some seaweed whenever the gaang stops by a body of water. And she definitely makes it in cute glass jars and shares it with her fellow healers in the Republic City Hospital ✨selfcare queen✨

2. Spa Day

I just find this funny because when and how did she even find this spa? How long has she been going by herself? Look how comfortable she is like dhjfjcd she’s definitely a regular and they all know her.

Real-life: Saunas are pretty modern, starting up in Finland around 1112. (In canon, I think a firebender and a waterbender run a sauna in Republic City so hey.) Mudbaths on the other hand have been around for centuries and people have been doing it at any naturally occurring hot spring they can found. I don’t even have to tell you about massages so

My headcanon: Katara always knows where the spas and selfcare places are wherever they go. I definitely think she scooped up some stuff at the perfume abbey in season 1 (because she’s a kleptomaniac). I also headcanon she would have a spa setup in the back of Republic City Hospital because selfcare is healthcare too. Also, Aang gives her massages at home and he’s surprisingly good at it, but, Katara sucks at massages and Aang never lets her do it to him after that one time 💀

3. Yoga

In 3x11, Nightmares & Daydreams, Katara teaches Aang yoga to de-stress in a hot spring. My thing is, when did she learn about yoga and how often does she do it? We needed the Katara yoga mini shorts special. The kids would’ve loved it.

Real life: Yoga originating from ancient India is practised in a variety of forms in Hinduism, Jainism and Buddhism. The poses they do are the Upward Salute and the Wide Legged Forward Bend.

My headcanon: I imagine Katara must have read about this at the Air Nomad Section of the Spirit Library, given the cultural heritage. Knowing her she found a yoga scroll and swiped it (can you say klepto?). This is another selfcare thing she does with Aang because it’s his culture! They do it every Saturday until he starts complaining about his old bones 😅

4. Hair care

Katara also wears a special cap on her head when doing yoga which I assume is to protect her hair from the steam 🤔 I just found it very interesting since we hardly see her hair covered. Then I also realized Katara is the only character shown actually combing her hair and styling it like 4 times: from the bun-braid, to the formal earth kingdom look, to her fire nation look and finally the bun with her hair out.

Real life: I typed so many things and I finally found something similar called a chinoiserie satin skull cap? (sorry pic limit). It’s similar in design and even has a tassel like Katara’s. Focusing on her hairstyles, the signature “hair loopies” are actually based on a traditional Inuit style known as qilliqti and her earth kingdom look is based on a traditional Manchurian style called liangbatou.

My headcanon: Like Katara’s mysterious seaweed lotion recipe, she probably makes several haircare products for herself, and has a major hair routine. So, it would make sense she wears protective caps from time to time. I also think both Hama and Katara are tied to the myth of Senna, the Inuit sea goddess, through the comb Katara uses which I headcanon is the identical comb Hama had in her home (again klepto).

If there’s any more selfcare moments I left out, please feel free to share or reply with your own Katara ✨selfcare queen✨ headcanons!

#atla #katara #self care #self care queen #skincare #spa #yoga #haircare #culturalexploration #my headcanons #kataang #anti zutara

[thegirlwhorideslikeasamurai]

Last night, I started another rewatch of YOI and I for the first time, I wondered what was going on inside Yuuko's brain while Yuuri was showing her his take on Stammi Vicino.

What do we know about Yuuko?

Yuuko is a big skating otaku. She's not only a fan of her former rinkmate Yuuri, we also see her swoon over Viktor and Yurio (she'd totally be the type who swoons over even more skaters, but we don't know that). When she fangirls, she fangirls hard which can even cause her nosebleed.

Yuuko is one of Yuuri's greatest supporters and someone he can confide in. Together, they copied Viktor's programmes, and she always has his back.

She knows that Yuuri has a crush on Viktor and has been emulating Viktor and striving to become as good as him since they watched the Junior Worlds together as kids.

And then Yuuko, who until that point thought that Yuuri was depressed, witnesses Yuuri skate a perfect copy of his crush's free programme that can be interpreted as a (gay) love song or a yearning for a soulmate (it's a bit more complicated than that, I had started writing a post that analyses the lyrics, but put it on the backburner for multiple reasons) and not only does she recognise the programme by Yuuri's starting pose alone, but goes immediately into full fangirl mode.

That's her face when he stops to perform towards her. In that moment, realisation must hit her that Yuuri is far from giving up skating, that he has not given up on his dream of emulating Viktor and meeting him on the ice as an equal. And he shares all this with her who had been supporting his dream from the very start.

I mean, look at his yearning expression:

Yuuri is fully immersed in his performance. However, being a fan of Viktor herself, Yuuko probably knows what the song is about. And because of that, she is able to empathise with Yuuri and can guess what's going on inside him while skating Stammi Vicino. (Figure skating 101: skaters normally perform towards the judges to increase their presentation mark. But here, Yuuri is alone with his childhood friend and the effect of the move would be wasted if he doesn't perform it towards her.)

Yuuri later explains that he has been practising this programme since the competitions ended for him three months ago. He was hoping to get back his love for skating and to remember how it was like when the two copied Viktor together. Since the disastrous Nationals, Yuuri has been working towards his comeback, even if it's hanging by a thread because he's still missing something that will help him continue and he doesn't know what it is. All he knows is that he wants to return to competition and keep on chasing his dream, and he starts all over where it began (I wrote a long-ass analysis about how Yuuri utilises Stammi Vicino for exactly that purpose here).

As one of Yuuri's closest friends, Yuuko must have guessed some of this already just from watching Yuuri skate. As a fan and a former skater, she immediately understands that he has been practising this programme for some months, and the perfection it exhibits is a telltale of how strong his dream, his obsession with Viktor is still burning inside him. You don't go to such lengths when you're not extremely passionate about something.

And that's oil in the fire of Yuuko's own fannishness. Because Yuuko is a fan of both Yuuri and Viktor, she must be burning like crazy to see them compete against each other again. She's been rooting for Yuuri from the start, she wants him to succeed and be happy and if that includes Yuuri meeting Viktor again, that would be the cherry on top.

If I was her, I would freak out, too.

We're all Yuuko in this scene. But because her character is so underrated, it took me so long to notice.

#yuri on ice #yoi meta #katsuki yuuri #yuuko nishigori #my yoi meta #not really a meta but speculation #yoi #yuri on ice meta #stammi vicino

[madame-fear]

luke having a crush on his eldest sister who is twins with jace and is betrothed to marry him :(( he wishes she could’ve be his wife and lady of the tides but she is to be future queen (can be angsty/ with a more heartwarming open ending maybe)

love your writing i always look forward to your work it’s amazing 🫶🫂

*ೃ༄ 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 .ೃ࿐

— ☆ amira speaks : I absolutely loved this concept! I'm still practising to write angst, so hope it's of your liking and what you expected ♡ — summary : [ — ✧ request ] — word count : 2.7k

— pairing : lucerys velaryon x older sister!betrothed!reader — genre : slight angst, ends with fluff

“It's strange, Luke.” in a murmur, those whispered words rolled off your lips lowly. The fair, cool breeze that seemed even more fresh than the usual made your hair sway along the wind, hitting briefly on your face as both you and your young brother Lucerys sat on your usual spot late at night: the beachside of Dragonstone, near the ocean.

Earlier in the morning, your mother Rhaenyra had announced that after a long discussion with the Black Council, she was to betroth you with your twin brother Jacaerys, in order to keep the Targaryen legacy. Meaning, you were now to be future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. The concept of getting betrothed was not strange to you, quite the contrary — however, that did not mean you would easily adapt to it.

Lucerys' eyes were focused on you as you spoke. A certain glint twinkled on his eyes, seemingly more dim than usual. “I have a mix of strange feelings regarding mother's decision to marry me off to Jace.” you continued, your eyes fixed on the horizon and yet, admiring the constant rise and descend of the ocean waves; twirling and fidgeting with the hem of your nightgown's sleeve. “Mix of strange feelings?” he inquired, in a low monotone expression, raising his eyebrows curiously.

Finally, you darted your gaze to where he sat, nodding. “Yes.” you retorted in approval, leisurely gazing back to the ocean. “One part of me deeply wishes to be able to choose whomever I desire. Or perhaps, have two husbands.” as you spoke, you could feel his green eyes being posed on you the entire time, completely fixed in you. The moonlight knew how to highlight the prettiest of your features, but it felt strangely bittersweet compared to other times he admired your face under the brightness of the moon and the stars.

“Perhaps, two husbands, like Aegon the Conqueror had his sister-wives; but in my case, I'd have my political husband, and then my one and true love.” you continued rambling, your eyes wandering off to the dark sky, filled of stars, being thrilled at the idea of your statements. “And another part of me, knows Jace will take good care of me like a proper husband.” a little grin shaped at the corner of your lips at the thought of it. Of course, you would've never guessed you'd marry your twin brother, but you knew he was a good, gentle boy that treated ladies as they should, and was extremely overprotective of you. “I suppose it's a blessing, in a way. Better than being married off to a wicked man, surely.”

A blessing. What a word for you to use. A word that stinged in his heart as if a knife had profoundly stabbed right through it. Perhaps being in love with his elder sister wasn't the wisest thing that could've happened to Lucerys, especially knowing his sister would eventually get married and produce heirs with her husband — but was there really something that could've prevented his feelings? Not really. Love reached no limits for him, especially when that love he felt was for you.

And knowing you'd get betrothed to Jace, plus hearing you say that your betrothal was in one way or another 'a blessing' didn't make his angst emotions vanish away any sooner. It simply worsened his anguish.

“I see.” lucerys stated, cooing in a low voice. His gaze lowered to the sand under him, trying to hide the sadness that overtook him. “Of course. You'll be in safe hands. And at least, you won't go to a far away castle.” he continued, trying to ease his mood a bit — but nothing worked. In response to him, a chuckle spurred from you. “You're right, Luke. What else could I ask for?” as you responded, you swiftly placed your arm around his body, leaning it closer to your own as you simultaneously leaned it towards his, resting your head against his own.

“Having the opportunity of being with my family, and I won't be stuck in a miserable marriage.” the idea of your betrothal with your twin brother didn't seem so bad after all, even if he wasn't the one your heart shouted out for. “And, besides, I'll be able to stay by my favourite little brother's side more time.” a goofy, yet weak grin graced around his lips at your bittersweet words, his head resting against your own in a feeble manner, being intoxicated by that endearing, characteristic scent of yours that he could drown himself in.

“Indeed. And you will make a beautiful Queen as well.” he complimented sheepishly under his breath, his eyes staring off into the ocean.

Though you were right about having the chance of spending more time together even if you were married and now destined to be a future Queen Consort, the empty void of wishing you were his wife and Lady of the Tides remained there. And would obviously remain there for the rest of his life, wishing he could change his mother's opinion, plus longing at the thought of his in-love feelings he had for you being rightfully reciprocated.

A few full moons had passed after your mother confirmed your betrothal with your twin brother Jacaerys. During those few full moons, until now that you currently prepared yourself to finally marry Jace under the tradition of Old Valyria, you had particularly noticed Lucerys to be more alienated and distant as well.

The sight of him being in such manner made your heart sink. Especially, when you felt yourself truly lucky and grateful to the Seven for having Lucerys' company in your life, and seeing him in such state made you grieve a bit. You sensed there was a certain thing going on with him, that had been the same feeling that overwhelmed your mind for quite some time, though you weren't exactly certain of what provoked such reactions on Luke.

A maiden finished braiding your hair delicately, as you stood in front of the mirror in your quarters, being already properly clothed ready to engage with your twin brother in the Valyrian tradition of marriage. Your eyes remained fixed on your mirror, staring as the maiden finishes her work.

A quivering sigh graced off your lips nervously. You could feel the way your heart pounded harshly against your chest, making your anxiety increase even if you constantly tried reminding yourself that everything was going to be alright — but you couldn't help but still fidget with your own fingers anxiously as time rapidly passed by.

A sudden knock on your door was heard, both you and the maiden briefly turning your gaze to stare at the wooden door of your chambers. “Come in.” you shouted enough for the other person to hear. As the maiden finished braiding your hair for your wedding ceremony, the door was swiftly opened; revealing Lucerys to be the one previously knocking. His face seemed grim, but his green eyes immediatly lit up with delight, and a faint fluster on his cheeks the second his eyes were fixed on your own when you turned your gaze towards him, with a little cheeky grin at encountering your favourite brother.

A wide, ear to ear grin had drawn upon your lips, still feeling the nerves causing a knot on your stomach. The maiden rapidly curtsied before Lucerys, as your brother gave her a single nod. “You are dismissed, dear. Thank you.” you spoke directly to the young maiden whom shortly curtsied to you as well before walking past Luke, and leaving your quarters, closing the door behind of her as she left you to be alone with him.

Luke awkwardly stood in there, with his hands clasped together resting in front of his body. His eyes seemed to be entirely lost on you, admiring how mesmerising you looked. “(y/n),” he spoke, not allowing you to say anything first. With gentle footsteps, he began moving closer to you in a timid manner, feeling overwhelmed at your grace. You were so beautiful, fit for a proper Queen, even if he wished you were his Lady of Driftmark.

“You look tremendously beautiful.” a shy giggle spurred from you, gazing down to the ground as to cover the forming tint of crimson on your cheeks. “Jace is very lucky to have you as his future Wife.” luke stood right behind of you, with his eyes fixed on your features through the mirror. When you lifted your sight, you realised Luke towered you very slightly with his size. It happened rather fast, but Lucerys had finally became taller than you — the thought of it forming a toothy grin on your lips.

A notorious crimson fluster had smeared your face at his compliments. Though, for him, it was more than a mere compliment to his lovely older sister. His heart felt vulnerable at the sole thought you, yet, full of anguish at knowing that as much as he truly desired you only for himself, he'd never be able to demonstrate you how his love for you reached any type of possible limits. It was utterly devastating, but he had no other option than harshly swallow his own feelings.

Before you could reply anything to his sweetening compliments, Lucerys leaned his body closer to your side, extending his now unclasped hand for you to see what he held. In his hands, he carried a bright, golden necklace from which it hung the shape of a small flying dragon. “It's made of Valyrian steel. I pressumed it could be significant for you to use in such special occassion.” your eyes carefully admired the necklace, taking it softly in your hands as to briefly raise it to your sight. The previous wide grin on your lips remained, as your eyes twinkled with a glint of thrill.

“Luke, this is... Absolutely lovely. Thank you!” clear excitement was heard on your tone as you looked into your brother's eyes with certain admiration. Seeing you so joyful made his heart flutter with a sense of pure love and protection for you. “I hope I can have the honours of helping you put this necklace on you?” he inquired, a smile quivering on his rosy lips as his eyes was fixed down on you. Without hesitating, you rapidly nodded in approval. “You may. I would be absolutely delighted.” as you responded, you briefly lost one another staring into each other's eyes in a dreamy way.

When you snapped back into reality after such sudden moment, you turned your gaze back to the mirror, standing straight as you took hold of your hair and positioned it to your side, allowing Luke to place the gifted necklace on you. That sweet scent of yours drowned the room as he approached even closer to you, feeling as if he could melt right there at the sight of you, admiring every inch of your fair, soft skin. His fingers delicately unclicked the necklace, beginning to wrap it around your neck. His movements were daint, and you observed his focus through the mirror in front of you.

Unbeknownst to him, a certain feeling of melting under his touch overwhelmed you as well — being obvious in that scarlet glint of you spread across your face due to his gentle actions.

His hand softly moved in a delicate manner some remaining strands of hair covering your neck to the side, finishing to properly adjust the necklace. Once he adjusted it, he clicked the necklace shut so it would remain there, and your fingertips went to gently take hold of the dragon hanging from the necklace, admiring it's significative beauty that represented the great legacy of your ancestors. The golden colours of the necklace were vivid and shone brightly, highlighting your features even.

Without helping his own impulses, the young Prince wrapped his arms around your body pressing you tightly against his chest, and resting his chin on your shoulder as his eyes observed the necklace with the dragon hanging at it's end, near your chest. A dreamy, lovesick sigh escaped from his lips, giving into the warmth your body provided for him, along your scent. “You look more mesmerising than ever, (y/n).” he complimented, not taking his eyes off your figure.

“The title of Queen suits you rather well, but I think it would suit you even more perfectly the title of Lady of the Tides.”

Those words slipped off his lips smoothly and relentlessly, escaping from the deepest side of his mind. At his statement, falling into the realisation of what he truly meant, your lips became partly open as your eyes widened simultaneously. Of course, you wouldn't have expected him to open up to you in such a free manner, but knowing how timid he was you were certain those words escaped unconsciously from him.

A fluster mimicking your own formed on his fair cheeks, soon spreading all across his face as he realised what he had just said — but it was too late to even take it back. “I-I'm sorry for that, (y/n)... I-I just meant–” his eyes widened in embarrassment, beginning to lose his tight grip around your body with his arms. Interrupting him, your hand took a tight hold of his arm, looking him sternly on his eyes just to make stop him from whatever he'd say.

“Lucerys.” you began with a vehement tone. A small feeling of being nervous began overwhelming his chest, but it vanished faintly once he saw a brief smirk forming on your lips. “You know, when mother constantly tell us that betrothals are mere political conveniences, and we can always choose whomever we truly desire?” his tense, anxious facial expression leisurely softened. His heart thumped so loudly against his chest, he was afraid you might even hear it. Unbeknownst to him, your heart worked on the same way as his did.

Allowing him to lose a bit of his tight grip on you yet remain with his arms wrapped around your body, you turned around to stare at him. One of your hands rested on his arm, and the other one caressed his clothed chest tenderly. “I am simply marrying Jace because mother betrothed me to him as to keep with the great legacy of our ancestors, but he is not whom I truly desire.” a sigh escaped of him, melting under your warm, tender touch along your sweet sounding, soothing voice.

Tiptoeing, you placed a slow, tender kiss on the corner of his lips, fluttering your eyes shut. Like you, the Prince did the same, closing his eyes and giving into the feeling of the butterflies flapping their wings on his heart at your lips. You remained in there for a few long lasting seconds, slowly pulling apart eventually, and opening your eyes just to stare into his delicate face. A dreamy sigh escaped from him, feeling over the moon, not believing the moment he was living — seemingly straight out of his fantasies.

“Even if you get betrothed to a future Lady of the Tides, we should take mother's words seriously, my beloved Lucerys.” every word that escaped your beauteous lips, accompanied by the tender way your fingers glided across his cheeks lovingly, was enough to have him completely under your mercy. Lucerys was absolutely dumbfounded for you.

Abruptly pulling apart from his grip, you turned your body on your heels, and began making your way to the door of your quarters, leaving him confusedly standing in there, yet staring at you like an enthusiastic lost puppy. “Come on now, I should not be late for my own wedding.” you remarked, looking deeply into his widened hazel eyes with a wide smirk, knowing the dazzling effect you had on Lucerys — completely wrapped around your finger.

You swiftly opened the door, beginning to make your way out of it. “Think about those words, Luke.” those last words escaped your lips, while his own were partly open in delightful surprise, feeling paralysed as he simply stood there like a fool in love. “See you in my political wedding.” you finished off shooting him a teasing wink, only to rapidly disappear through the corridors of Dragonstone, already dressed in your engagement clothing.

After all, your feelings were mutual. Unbelievable, but true. And even if he was surprised at your audacity, he couldn't complain; you were right on your words. And maybe, having you as his secret lover even if you were future Queen and future Lord of the Tides didn't seem a bad idea at all.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dopepersonacloudllama @phantasyy @tasty-nutella @mstxdes @valeriecash @cookielovesbook-akie @zzz000eee

#lucerys velaryon x reader #lucerys velaryon x sister!reader #lucerys velaryon x velaryon!reader #lucerys strong x reader #lucerys targaryen x reader #hotd x reader #hotd imagine #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon x you #hotd x you #hotd fanfic

[umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken]

Day 4: Calanmai

@tamlinweek

How an obsession begins

Tamlin:

Feyre:

📣📣 DENIAL IS A RIVER IN EGYPT. YOUR HUSBAND IS GAY 📣📣

Rhysand winnowed silently inside the Spring border. Just in time, too. The sun was due to set in less than a half hour. He made his way through the lively hubbub, taking in the scenes with interest. He wouldn’t seek out Tamlin, he was surely getting himself ready for the night.

<><><><> 

“They’re leaving?”

“Yes. My parents will be accompanying King Ennis of Hybern on a tour of his war camps. Amarantha will be there.” His nose wrinkled. “And my brothers will be going with them, of course, so it is I that must be left here alone, to take charge of Spring.” Tamlin sighed dramatically, falling onto his back in the long grass.

“At least I won’t be forced to play nice in front of all of Ennis’s men.”

Rhysand hummed in agreement.

Wait.

“So, you will be the one to complete the Calanmai rite this year?” Try as he might, he couldn’t shed the incredulity in his tone.

The younger male kicked at his shin, making him yelp. “Why the surprise? I’m a son of Spring after all. The magic is in my blood.”

Rhysand rolled over to face him. “Yes, but doesn’t that… I don’t know... Don't you feel nervous?”

Tamlin shrugged. “I’ve always known that it would be my duty one day. Why not now? It'll be good practise." He said, eyebrows waggling.

He laughed along with him, but his thoughts were racing elsewhere. Images began to flicker through his mind, bright and vivid.

Tamlin, painted with inky swirls, his eyes overtaken by magic…

 Tamlin, divested of his usual clothes and on full display...

Of being used by him, for his sole needs alone…

Of having to watch as another fae was chosen by the magic for him.

He took a steadying breath and forced a smile into his voice.

“Well, good luck with that.”

Tamlin turned towards him. “Why don’t you come? I won’t be able to be there with you, of course. But there’ll be food, and music, and wine, and dancing. You'll have fun, I swear it.”

He smiled at the golden male beside him, his eyes lingering perhaps a tad too long on his rosy lips.

“Alright. I’ll be there.”

<><><><> 

He’d told himself before he left that he would only come tonight for the festivities and would steadfastly ignore the main event of the night and the male at the centre of it all. But now that he was here, he found his resolve quickly shattering. He turned away from the bright square, flooded with food stalls and beating with music, towards the fae-lit path.

Maybe just a quick look…

There was the cave where the ceremony would take place, ringed with flaming torches. Before the cave was a great formation of stones that were assembled in a wide circle. Each stone was at least three fae high, and carved into their surfaces were incredibly detailed scenes of utter debauchery. Round and around, as high as the stones went, carvings of every imaginable pose and movement. It was hard to tear his wide eyes away as he heard the excited chatter of the fae moving quickly past him. The sun had set. The ceremony was about to begin. Rhysand joined the fae lining all around the stone circle, awaiting the Spring Lordling’s entrance. He could sense each frenzied heartbeat, each anticipatory breath.

Silence fell and a slow, steady drumbeat began as Tamlin entered the ring of Stones.

His skin was painted in inky woad that appeared like snakes, winding about his body in the shadows of the torchlight. His hair was loose from its usual braid and adorned with a simple crown of laurel leaves, his golden curls falling in hypnotising waves to his waist where a simple loincloth of gauzy material was tied. Rhysand found his mouth quickly drying, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets, flexing the restless digits.

He moved differently than he usually did. Slow and predatory, his body as taut as a string on his fiddle. Nestled in his palm was a ball of flame that glowed with all the colours of Spring.

This was how Tamlin's partner tonight would be chosen.

Tamlin raised the ball of flame high into the air and the fae cheered, the drumbeats going frantic. The sound was deafening, each voice reverberating through Rhysand’s ears twice as loudly as usual.

Tamlin lowered his hand and just as quickly, the din stopped. The drumbeat began again, slow, and steady. He began his path around the circle.

With each hopeful fae that he passed, the flame remained still. One after the other, each of the unlucky fae stepped back with disappointed sounds for the ones waiting next in line. One full rotation, then a second, until Rhys found himself standing in the front row.

Once more, Tamlin continued his walk around the circle. The flame continued to burn low and steady in his palm.

Even Rhysand found himself waiting with bated breath when just hours earlier he had quashed any hopes of being the one fated fae that would share in the Calanmai magic tonight. He forced himself to remain cool.

This is all just in good fun, he thought to himself. When the flame has chosen Tamlin's partner, I’ll go off and find some fun of my own.

Five, four more fae and he would be standing before him.

Tamlin walked slowly down the parade of eager fae, the fire dancing in his palm remaining small and tame until he passed before Rhysand, and the magical flames began to lick higher and higher. His heart seemed to still as Tamlin's eyes lifted from the flame to lock onto him, those brilliant green eyes he knew so well now pure gold. His teeth shone in the light, canines sharp and waiting.

“The magic has chosen.”

“Blessed be the Cauldron’s wisdom.” Rhysand recited evenly.

The flame went out, and the raucous din began again as Tamlin took him by the hand, leading him into the cave.

Rhysand’s heart rabbited in his chest, and he was sure that he was about to pass out.

The sounds of celebration faded as they walked deeper and deeper in, reaching a curtained chamber. Inside was lit with a circle of torches. Right in the centre was a large altar, laid with a woven mat and rich silk sheets. Tamlin stopped just before it and turned to Rhysand.

Here in the quiet, he could at last appreciate the feast set before his eyes.

Tamlin’s skin had been rubbed with some sort of oil so that it gleamed in the light, showcasing each muscle and glorious curve. His arms, his chest, that sinful waist, and Mother and Cauldron above, those thighs…

The thick swirls of paint on his body were fashioned into the great branches of the Spirit Tree, winding down his arms and spreading its roots far down, their outlines starkly visible beneath the thin loincloth.

Rhysand decided that before the night was through, not a single stroke would go unattended. His mouth salivated at the mere thought. He swallowed thickly and raised his eyes to meet Tamlin's.

“So. What will you do to me now that you have me?”

He simply smiled, reaching up to take off the laurel crown and place it reverently on Rhysand’s head.

“I’m going to take my time tonight. Rhysand.”

A chill ran down his spine at the sound of his name like that.

Tamlin continued, his fingers skimming across the back of his neck and leaving goosebumps in their wake.

“It isn’t often that I can persuade the magic to have more choice. But I hoped that you would be here tonight.”

“And here I am.” He breathed.

“Yes. Here you are,” Tamlin chuckled, “I could already feel the flame going impatient, but I wanted it to be you. I told it to wait.”

It took everything in him not to bound around the dimly lit chamber screaming. Rhysand licked his lips.

“You wanted it to be... me?”

“Yes.”

Tamlin brought his hands up to Rhysand’s shoulders. Barely pushing, but still he went, walking backwards until the backs of his knees hit the stone altar.

“From now until the sun rises, you are mine.”

“Yes.” He already feel himself harden.

His lips pulled into a lazy smile. He pushed more insistently this time, lowering Rhysand down onto the altar and bracing his powerful legs on either side so that everything in his sight and all around him was pure Tamlin, Tamlin, Tamlin.

He reached his hand underneath Rhysand’s tunic, the other male breathless as his fingers danced across his skin, lighting every inch of him. Rhysand's pulse quickened when Tamlin bent his head, the golden curls rippling across his bare shoulders as Tamlin's voice came rough and husky in his ear.

“Off, I think.” he purred.

He extended his claws, ghosting the deadly points across Rhysand’s chest before snagging them on the fabric and slowly tearing it open down the front.

“Beautiful.”

Rhysand canted his hips upwards, the movement shifting the gauzy loincloth farther up Tamlin's thighs and exposing him to the cool air. Rhysand groaned at the sight.

“How sweet of you to talk about beauty when here you are, looking like this.”

“Silver tongue.”

“It has its uses.”

Faster than he could blink, Tamlin's hands were around his waist and he was being picked up and deposited further up on the altar, Tamlin leaning over him with a wicked smile. Instinctively, he brought his hands up to brace against Tamlin's chest, his fingers splaying across every inch of that warm, glorious skin.

“I should warn you. The magic will not be gentle tonight.”

 “Good.”

~fin~

me trying to write another original, un-cringe spicy scene:

I'M SORRY, THIS IS ALL I GOT.

#tamlin week 2024 #pro tamlin #tamlin #rhysand #tamsand #feyre archeron #feyre #feysand

[lollytea]

Just want to bring up a question about the Grom curse thing, this implies that a curse can be made by can be made per se by strong emotions. This also may have given Belos the idea of "the dangers of wild magic" he could've conveniently corrupted people who posed a great threat to him. just a thought

Oooooh!!

I'm hesitant to call Grometheus' fate a curse because I can't say for certain if that's what it is. TOH is kinda vague about how curses in this universe work or what defines them.

It's never clarified if Belos' problem is technically a curse like he claims or just some stupid shit he did to himself, without considering the possibility that the glyph/palisman magic might be uncooperative with his (at the time) human body.

I don't imagine that what Grometheus endured was a traditional curse like Eda but rather, something more similar to Darius (and maybe Belos a bit too)

Alright so, this is just a headcanon but I've always figured that this talent Darius has for shifting his whole body, flesh, bones and all, into goo mode wouldn't be like. Standard abomination magic stuff. This track is the study of controlling goo, not becoming goo. So, the stuff he's pulling off here is near impossible for any normal witch.

So, in my opinion, Darius is simply not normal. He was born with a capacity for magic that is far beyond that of a normal witch and equates to being extremely powerful. Anyway his mastery over abominations became so natural to him, as simple as breathing that his physical body went through an innate "transfusion" of sorts where he basically became one with his magic.

Cases like these are very rare and usually only crop up if a witch has bonded their soul to one specific area of magic. So if goo is what's making Darius' bile sac overheat, goo is what he's gonna be.

So, for example, another born powerful witch like Eda, who is a jack of all trades, wouldn't have developed something like this (even if her curse hadn't hindered her.) because there's too many spells and techniques being practised but no outright obsession that is being mastered enough to completely dilute her bloodstream.

Well, possibly. It's unknown if a witch can achieve this form with mixed magic. The condition is rare enough that not a lot of data has been collected yet.

Giuls and me have been exploring the same idea with Willow

(There's a lot more in-depth biological details about how this whole thing works but Giuls will probably talk more about all that at some point)

Anyway!! Grometheus!!

So, what I imagine is that Darius is an example of a successful fusion between physical form and magic, while Grometheus was an example of the same thing Gone Terribly Wrong.

See, in Darius' case, he managed to achieve a perfect union between his own sense of identity and the magic that had become part of him.

But in Grometheus' case, that did not happen.

They began as person who collected the essence of others for their research. They hoarded fears inside their own mind for years and years, maybe even decades. That's thousands and thousands of souls that they stole those fears from.

That's far too much for a normal witch to handle. But Grometheus was not a normal witch. They were powerful enough to endure it. Or at least they thought.

It was too much. Far too much. It was like deathly bacteria damaging everything inside of you. A slow and steady rot. Think food that's gone bad that's been there for months. That was the magic inside of Grometheus.

I dont imagine that this corruption was directly caused by Grometheus' negative emotions. But rather, those emotions weakened their resistance to the swarming fear that was consuming them. Maybe if they had been stronger or happier or had people around who reminded them why they were alive, they could have realized what was happening before it was too late.

There still would have been long lasting damages. But they may have been able to find the balance between themself and the magic and kept their identity intact.

But soon enough, the fear ate away at everything else that remained of Grometheus. They lost who they were. They didn't know who they had ever been.

They were no longer a witch who collected fears. They were simply the vessel for fear itself.

It's a little unclear what this ask means but I don't imagine that Belos was the one who corrupted Grometheus, if that's what it's implying. Although yes, he probably would have used this case as effective propaganda.

At the time of Grometheus' corruption, this concept of physical form and magic fusion was unheard of. No cases had been documented yet. So Belos could conveniently twist it as an example of the dangers of wild magic.

However, as times changed and studies continued, this condition became more well known in the Healing Coven as a perfectly natural (if rare) biological evolution.

Sadly, it had not yet been theorized that Grometheus' case was anything other than a reckless use of wild magic, rather than a condition that wound up destroying them because nobody knew enough to help.

The truth doesn't come to light until after their vessel was slain in the Hexside arena, but they were hardly still alive in there anyway. The truth is delivered by Gus Porter, who saw everything through their eyes during that one moment where he dissected them with his amplifier mirror.

So now, Gus has absorbed it all. The thousands upon thousands of fears all melted together into a sickening tarry contamination. Gus inherits everything that consumed Grometheus and now it resides in his own mind.

And that's where we currently stand and now the question hangs in the air. Can Gus achieve a successful physical and magical transfusion the way Darius did? Or is he in danger of losing himself to the rot?

[kleefkruid]

I'm practising American Traditional tattoo design again, and it always feels odd to me to start bc unlike other illustrations where I tend to start from scratch, the whole thing of trad design is using existing designs and adding your own thing to it, either by, like I am doing here, taking over a pose, or taking an existing design, for instance a classic snake, and putting it in a different pose, or drawing something new but using elements and the general style (I'm not there yet, that's why I am doing studies)

It still feels weird bc I have the "I'm not allowed to copy other people" reflex still, even tough I have gotten better at just taking inspiration from other people, but here it's literally what you're supposed to do, the designs I'm using literally come from a flash book that has a bunch of designs in color and linework, assembled exactly for this! the authors note even ends like:

and honestly it's silly that it's my art academy mind that makes me insecure about this, while I learned there about how for most of art history you studied as an apprentice under another artists, by copying their existing work and even adding to their current work. Tattooing is just one of the last art diciplines where you get taught the trade by someone(s), and you also get schooled by people who aren't even alive... Everyone adding their unique elements, and building on the art as a whole. I think it's pretty beautiful and I hope we can bring it back to the general art scéne.

Anyway, I'm going off a tangent again instead of finishing my drawing, my apologies, they made me write too many essays at the academy and secretly I miss it. But in closing I would like to say that anyone who ever feels like they want to go off something I drew but feel weird about it, you absolutely can and I'd love to see the results even! xoxo

#illustration #tattoo flash #american traditional #my work #daily life

[jttw-monkeybusiness]

I think it's safe to say you (accidentally) killed a lot of your starving followers with the sudden and beautiful F E A S T of the tasteful diptych of the monkey men.

Only those who have sheer willpower to savor it may live for another....

[Joking btw. I was not expecting to see these two like this so I was definitely surprised XD. Amazing anatomy and poses for both of them! Oooooh, and lighting, shading, and overall color palettes are just *chef's kiss* ]

I told one of my besties who I showed WIPS that if Tumblr is going to put me in jail bc of monkey butts then I would say 'worth it' 😂 The comments that I have seen are silly and funny, not gonna lie! What can I say? I like to surprise people from time to time and I thank you for the kind words! ✨ In reality I just love drawing anatomy and I like to draw these kinds of drawings because it gives me a chance to practise anatomy. I took 3 years of live model drawing classes where I drew a bunch of naked people and let me tell you. It really helps you to learn and understand the anatomy. I don't say I have mastered but it had helped me! Have a peek at one of the classes that I took 2 years ago :D

#personal questions #my art

[kueh-lapyx]

I would have come for you.

Happy valentines day my fellow kanej shippers here's to spending this day with your investments 🍻

A small art ramble: i chose to draw them back to back because they trusted each other like none other, would absolutely slaughter for each other, and would fight their way out together, knives drawn, pistols blazing, because thaTS WHAT THEY DO *proceeds to go sob in a corner*

Even when having their backs to the other, they still keep an eye on the other. Kaz's cloak wraps around Inej's legs, a symbol of his protectiveness towards her—i mean, his investment. Kaz may be in a static pose unlike Inej, but the cloak and his raised cane suggests that he will inflict another kind of hell—no blades involved, but equally if not more painful—to anyone that comes close to Inej.

A simple sketch but i practised being intentional here :D

#single as a pringle and busy drawing couples #valentines day #kanej fanart #otp #six of crows fanart #soc fanart #six of crows #soc #art #my art #artists on tumblr #shadow and bone fanart #shadow and bone netflix #freddy carter #amita suman #kanej supremacy #kanejdaily #i would have come for you #kuehlapyx

[choochooboss]

Magma Action Class & May Doodle session results!!

This is HUGE!! We drew over 90 ACTION POSES over the weekend in total, excluding my notes and references I drew for and during the session!!

Can't believe our first lesson ever went so well, the results are top notch!! I had a fantastic time sharing my thoughts on poses and was able to assist with them!! It was awesome to see both my Twitter and Tumbrl followers gather for this event, got to meet many new people!

Magma Action Class notes & studies! Sharing a cleaned up version of the notes later!

Free Doodle session! @aimu-baicepsu arranged another cute event for everyone's OCs to join in: art classes with the master artists of Pokémon world! Artists drawing artists drawing... Artception!!

Thank you so much for everyone who joined this Magma event!! This was a challenge for all of us but you didn't yield! I'm super proud of you!! You did a fantastic job pushing your skills to a new level, and I hope you had good fun with this too! Let's practise together again soon!!

#jun's magma events #magma doodles #magma collaboration #pokemon #submas #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet #pokemon ingo #pokemon emmet #pokemon hassel #pokemon brassius #pokemon mina #pokemon burgh #pokemon piers #pokemon volo #pokemon melli #pokemon adaman #pokemon zisu #greninja #eelektross #archeops #togekiss #practise #warden ingo #pokemon lear #ditto #butler emmet #submas butlers #hoopa

[sleepingdeath-light]

relationship hcs ; yellow diamond

requested by ; anonymous (24/04/23)

fandom(s) ; steven universe

fandom masterlist(s) ; here

character(s) ; yellow diamond

outline ; “hey since you did relationship hcs for white diamond could you do some for yellow and blue too :D? (separately) love your works!^^”

warning(s) ; none, just fluff!

as far as being in an equal relationship goes, yellow diamond is extremely out of her element — she’s used to being in a position of distinct hierarchical authority, and only having one person who she truly sees is on an equal level to herself, and that mentality does cause a lot of conflict early on in your relationship

she takes care of you, of course, and always makes sure that you’re well tended to and have everything you could possibly want or need — making use of her countless colonies and underlings to ensure that this is the case, making sure that you’re worshipped and respected as an authority figure in the same way that she is

but yellow diamond is also quite emotionally distant and dismissive at times because of how busy she is, and unless you express a need for intimacy and affection to her then she’s not going to realise that you feel neglected — but even then it’s incredibly forced and stiff as she’s just not used to being physically or verbally affectionate with you, or anyone, quite yet (just give her some time, she’ll grow to love it)

if anyone dares to disrespect you or offend you in anyway then yellow will be swift to punish them for it — either poofing or outright cracking their gem, or sending them to trial to find a ‘better’ punishment if you’re less fond of execution

she doesn’t use any pet names with you and generally just calls you by your first name (or, maybe, a slightly shortened version of it), but if you insist on calling her a term of endearment then she’d probably prefer something that sounds more formal — think ‘my diamond’ but more affectionate, like ‘my dear’ or ‘my beloved’

she’s terrified of losing you as she did pink, which makes her extremely protective over you — refusing to let you leave her sight (whether that’s in her room on home world, in her palanquin when she’s on a colony, in her ship, etc) and having you accompanied by a large collection of amethyst and jasper guards wherever you go if she’s too busy to physically accompany you herself (she cannot lose another person she cares about; losing you would destroy her)

whenever you’re making a public appearance she makes sure that your outfit is spotless — having her servants dress you in her colours and in clothes that are as practical as they are formal — and that you’re mentally prepared for everything that is expected of you well in advance (memorising dances, practising posture and poses, mastering the perfect acknowledging smile and polite nod, etc.) so that there’s no chance of either of you being looked down upon

you’re the only person aside from pink diamond who has ever been able to make her laugh — and you’re also the only one who gets to see the ‘imperfections’ that she hides from the other diamonds and their subjects, such as her sense of humour and her insecurities about her place in the gem empire

no matter how busy she is, she refuses to move whenever you fall asleep on her — taking her calls wherever she is and working around you, instructing whoever she’s talking with to stay quiet as she doesn’t want to wake you (she thinks you’re so very adorable like that and she doesn’t have the heart to disturb your sleep)

she’d get you your own pearl, or an entire gem entourage, if you asked — making sure that you got only the best cut of each because you deserve only the best — but in the meantime yellow pearl is more than happy to entertain you when her diamond is working, and in fact you’ll likely end up getting along quite well as your relationship with yellow diamond progresses

#sleepingdeath #fluff #fluff hcs #su fluff #su x reader #yellow diamond fluff #yellow diamond x reader #gender neutral reader

[bestiarium]

The Thila [Burkinese mythology; Lobi mythology]

At the dawn of time, the supreme deity Tangba You created the world. Tangba You fashioned the land, the seas, and then the humans to populate the world. But human men lusted after women and soon began fighting one another over the women, and the deity eventually grew tired of this. He was the creator god, after all, and we can assume he had better things to do than solve every petty issue among mortals. So he withdrew from the world of men, never again interfering with mortal affairs. Before leaving, however, Tangba You figured he should leave someone to guide and watch over humanity, so he created the Thila (singular: Thil): a group of semi-divine nature spirits.

This is the creation story of the Lobi people, who live in the north eastern parts of Côte d’Ivoire and south western Burkina Faso. They trace their roots back to Ghana.

The Thila play a very large role in traditional Lobi religion. These spirits are not really gods in the common sense of the word, but they are somewhat similar to the angels of Abrahamic religion (but note that they are sometimes described as ancestor spirits). They offer protection to the people, but also tell them how they should act. Though normally invisible to mortal eyes, these beings take on the form of an animal or a human in the rare event that they do appear before people.

Normally though, a Thil communicates solely through a ‘Thildar’, which is a human diviner in direct contact with the spirits (the societal role of these people can be likened to shamans of some native American traditions). As per the rules of their religion, a Thildar is always male, and usually there are only one or two of these diviners in a community. Each Thildar stands in contact with his own group of Thila spirits, with whom he can communicate during a divination. He then relays the will of the Thila, which includes guidelines and taboos pertaining to all kinds of subjects, including how the people should dress, have sex, hunt animals, etc. Sometimes the spirits demand to hold great feasts or festive events, and sometimes they forbid certain practises. One example is the village of Korhogo (near Gaoua): the people living here stopped sleeping on mats made from millet stem, because a Thil once forbade it. Also noteworthy is that Thila sometimes demand that the Thildar takes up a specific profession, like becoming a smith or a doctor.

This may sound strict to outsiders, but Thila are kind and benevolent spirits. They receive offerings during special occasions such as births and weddings, and bestow rain and childbirth on humanity. Should the people break the taboos that the Thila enforce, however, they can wreak havoc upon a community.

These spirits are believed to reside in special religious wooden sculptures called ‘Bateba’, which are usually housed in shrines dedicated to that specific Thil. This is important, because the act of placing a Bateba on a shrine greatly enhances its spirit’s ability to manifest in this world, allowing it to protect the people against evil (such as evil warlocks). If a Thil wants a shrine, it will tell this to a Thildar, along with specific instructions of where and how the shrine should be built. Within Burkina Faso, the Lobi are actually renowned for their woodworking skills, and as such the Bateba tend to be impressive works of art.

Finally, I want to mention that there are different kinds of Thila spirits, and the distinction is easily visible in their Bateba carvings. Some examples:

Bateba Phula are humanoid figures with a stiff standing pose. They house regular Thila.

Bateba Ti Puo house protective spirits that defend against evil; they feature raised arms.

A Thil Dorka houses a particularly powerful variant of Thila. It is a humanlike statuette with two heads, referencing the spirit’s ability to watch multiple locations at the same time.

Sources: Asante, M. K. and Mazama, A., 2008, Encyclopedia of African Religions, SAGE Publications, 920 pp. Peek, P. M., 1991, African Divination Systems: Ways of Knowing, African Systems of Thought, Georgetown University Press, 230 pp., pages 98-99. Harvey, G., 2014, The Handbook of Contemporary Animism (Acumen Handbooks), Routledge, 544 pp., page 68. (image source 1: African Arts Gallery, lot 12963) (image source 2: MutualArt)

#African mythology #spirits #Lobi mythology #mythical creatures #ghosts #folklore #Burkinese mythology

[late-to-the-party-81]

Take a picture [it will last longer]

AN: This is just filth. There we go. Porn with a smidge of plot. Enjoy!

Beta’d by the wonderful @endlesstwanted

Likes are loved, reblogs are golden

Mood board by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

Bingo Fills - 

@buckybarnesbingo k3: AU: Artist/Muse

@stuckybingo G1: Kink - Blindfolds

@steverogersbingo C1: Body Pose/Position Protocol

Build a Bucky Bingo by @buckybarnesevents: Jan: Dom Big Dick Bucky Barnes

Master list | BBB Master list | Stucky Bingo Master List | SRB Master list | BaBB Master List

Summary: Bucky was just planning to spend the afternoon helping his sub get his body poses correct, and he wasn’t expecting to be so inspired. But when the muse hits, you have to follow. It’s a good thing his sub is the best boy ever, always wanting to please his dom.

Relationship: Dom Photographer Bucky Barnes x Sweet Himbo Sub Steve

Chapter word count: 4.2k

CW: Modern AU, D/S relationship, Sir/Boy dynamic, Himbo Twunk Steve, Dom Bucky, an Artist and his Muse, Blindfolds, Collaring, Leash, Submissive Body Positions, brief mention of exhibitionism, brief mention of semi-public sex, brief mention of Pet Play, Explicit Sexual Content, Safe Sane and Consensual, Pre-established relationship, Bucky Barnes POV

The shutter on his camera clicked as Bucky took a photo, then he shifted to the right, looking at the play of light across his canvas, and took another. This was the best idea he’d had in a few weeks, and now his mental juices were flowing: he could just imagine a book full of the classiest images. 

Not these ones, though. The ones he was taking now would be just for him to look at. If he went ahead with the idea, he’d have to actually set up a proper photoshoot with lighting and make-up, and maybe a few different models. At least, if he did that he wouldn’t be trying to take pictures with his cock trying to fight its way out of his pants.

A small whine broke the relative quiet, significantly louder than the subtle click of his camera, and Bucky lowered it to take in the sight in front of him without it being filtered through a viewfinder.

Steve, his beautiful golden retriever of a boyfriend, and the subbiest twunk he’d ever met, was positioned in front of him in the most delectable manner. A red blindfold was wrapped across his eyes, and other than the matching collar and lease, that was the only item of clothing he wore. He was positioned on his hands and knees - Table pose - back flat, abs tight and his heavy, half chubbed cock hanging towards the floor. And because he was in table pose, Bucky had decided to make use of him like that. Upon his back was a silver tray, which in turn held a flute of champagne. 

Steve had been holding that pose for five minutes now, as Bucky took his shots, but he was strong and Bucky knew he could manage for much longer than that.

When Bucky had decided that Steve needed to practise his poses this afternoon, he hadn’t intended to turn it into an impromptu photography session. But Steve was his muse, and inspiration had struck as soon as the muscular blond had adopted the Kneel pose, sitting back on his knees, back straight, chin up and hands palm down on his thighs. The afternoon light streaming in through the huge floor to ceiling windows had been perfect, casting highlights over Steve’s pale, freckled skin, corn coloured hair and blindfold that Bucky had placed on him.

And his boy was so good, because Bucky hadn’t had to say a word, hadn’t needed to command Steve to stay still and wait, as he’d briefly left the living room to acquire his favourite SLR from his study. Steve didn’t move a muscle, a perfect Sub just waiting for instructions.

After Kneel, Bucky had instructed Steve to adopt the Humble pose, and when he leaned forward, head resting on the back of his arms as he pressed them to the floor, his knees moved apart, showing off his tight hole, heavy balls and thick cock. Despite the fact that Steve must have known he was being photographed, he didn’t say a word. Such a good boy.

When Bucky had taken all the shots he wanted of Steve’s supplication, - the play of light across his muscles was extraordinary - he ordered him back onto his hands and knees, grabbed the end of his lease and had him crawl closer to Bucky’s arm chair. Once the right distance away, with just one word Steve shifted into the Stool position. Bucky sat down and raised his legs, his black, italian leather shoes settling right into the small of Steve’s back.

He carefully angled his camera so that the only part of himself in frame was those shoes. Juxtaposed with just how big Steve actually was, it just highlighted the submissive element of the pictures. Not that Bucky was small by any means, but Steve was a few inches taller and his muscles more defined. Bucky was thicker, a little heavier. Pure Dom. 

The Table pose had come after the Stool. Bucky had lost sense of how long they’d been going, but he knew that Steve was in that beautifully soft headspace, with how his movements between poses became a little more laggy each time as he tried to tune back in to what he was being told. 

He’d explained how it felt to Bucky once, that intoxicating headspace where everything was quiet, stress-free and comfortable, his mind wandering without any thought or desire other than to please his Dom.

However, they were almost done. Just one more pose for Steve to hold and then Bucky’s sweet boy, and Bucky himself, would get their reward. Bucky could hardly wait. They way Steve just gave it all up for him, whenever he asked, was a heady experience. 

When they’d first met, in a dingy gay nightclub in Manhattan, neither man had been looking for a relationship, just a quick hook-up. However, when Bucky had teased Steve back at the blond’s apartment calling him a ‘bad boy’, he’d suddenly looked so upset that Bucky had immediately known the young man had a praise kink as big as Staten Island. And if that didn’t just press Bucky’s buttons!

“Oh, you wanna be a good boy, huh?” he’d purred, with just a hint of derision. Steve had just nodded emphatically, lower lip between his teeth, but Bucky wasn’t having any of that. “Words, sugar.”

“I-I wanna be a g-good boy,” Steve had mumbled. Bucky had combed his fingers into the mess of golden hair, then sharply gripped it and pulled Steve’s head back, making him whine. “W-wanna be your good b-boy. S-Sir.”

Hearing the honorific fall from Steve’s lips had almost made Bucky blow his load in his pants then and there. “And does my good boy have a safe word?” Bucky’s excitement had been off the charts, but he’d tried to keep himself outwardly calm, maintaining his Dom aura.

“Queens,” Steve had stuttered. Bucky had leant forward, lips against Steve’s ear.

“What about a colour?” he’d asked with a nip to the soft lobe.

“Green, Sir. Oh God!”

What had transpired next had been the best sex Bucky had had in a long time. His favourite part had been when Steve had started to cry after the fifth time Bucky had denied him his orgasm while fucking him on his cock. He’d leant forwards and licked the salty tears from Steve’s face as he’d lain on his back, big hands holding his muscular legs bent and spread wide, trembling with need. Bucky swore that was the moment he fell in love. Or at least in deep, deep lust. Bucky had stayed the night, which was very unlike him, and when Steve had tentatively asked for his number the next morning, he’d found he couldn’t deny him that.

He’d spent the rest of the day in an artist’s haze, having taken hold of his camera straight after his shower once he’d returned home. He’d gone out on a walk and ended up taking photos of everything in sight, seeing them now highlighted with a radiance they hadn’t had the day before. Those photos had become the basis for a new series that he’d ended up displaying in the ICP, and also convinced him that maybe being in a proper relationship wouldn’t be so bad.

Now it was nine months later and Steve had moved permanently into Bucky’s penthouse apartment. Despite Bucky’s wealth and prosperity, Steve had insisted on keeping his job at the local gym as a class instructor and personal trainer, much to Bucky’s amusement. He liked that Steve was insistent on still maintaining his independence, and not acquiescing to Bucky’s attempts to make him a kept man. Also, Bucky would feel bad about depriving the world of Steve in tight shorts and spandex. He’d decided one day to surprise his lover and pick him up from his shift, and having arrived early, had snuck in to watch Steve finish off teaching his spin class.

However, the sight of Steve’s muscular thighs barely contained by his short shorts, the way the seat of the spin bike was being almost devoured by that sinful ass, and how his sleeveless tee was stained wet with fresh sweat, had almost destroyed his brain. He didn’t know whether he wanted to photograph Steve - which he knew he wasn’t allowed to do, anyway-, or drag him off the bike and fuck him right there on the floor - also not allowed. Instead, he’d settled for waiting for Steve to finish and then dragging him into the staff locker room, swallowing his cock down and fingering him until he exploded down Bucky’s throat. Steve had babbled incoherently the entire time, and had had to lean on Bucky very suspiciously as they made their way to the car.

Unlike some guys, Bucky wasn’t afraid to let other people see his boyfriend. He was secure in their relationship, knowing that Steve would never take up the blatant offers he regularly received; not only because Steve wasn’t like that, but also, half the time Steve had no idea that he was being flirted with - he just thought people were being nice. Bucky would shake his head and smile to himself.

Also, if Bucky had been jealous about other people seeing Steve, then he wouldn’t be able to indulge his passion for going to the local club. Steve was such a sweet Sub, it would have been heresy not to show him off. His skin was so naturally pale - thanks, Irish genetics - that when it turned it red, whether that was from embarrassment, tears, or a paddle, it just stood out all the more, and Bucky never failed to be struck by the beauty of it.

That was also the crux of it. Steve wasn’t just his lover or his Sub. Steve was also his muse. Whether it was Steve’s body that helped inspire him, or Steve’s delightful, almost naive way of looking at the world forcing him to see the mundane in a new light, Bucky had never been so prolific in his work. Which led them back around to how the current scene had shifted from Bucky’s original idea and gotten his creative juices going. This wasn’t the first time Bucky had photographed Steve during a scene, and he doubted it would be the last. There were already a few tasteful shots printed and framed on the walls of their bedroom.

Bucky set his camera down, lifted the tray from Steve’s back and placed it on their actual coffee table. The mahogany and glass piece of furniture had nowhere near as much beauty as Steve serving the same function. Before instructing Steve into his final and most demanding pose, Bucky picked up the champagne flute and took a mouthful of it - he didn’t want to waste it after all. However, he did decide to test his Sub’s control.

Walking around Steve, who was breathing slowly, his mouth slack, Bucky stopped once again by his ass. He then lifted his arm and tilted his hand, allowing a small amount of the champagne to stream downwards to hit the bottom of Steve’s spine and spill down his crack, over his hole, and drip off of his balls. And Steve, his perfect, perfect boy, didn’t move at all, only letting out a cross between a squeak and a moan as the cold liquid made contact with his warm skin. The sight was so erotic that Bucky didn’t even think of denying himself and just dropped to his knees, poking his tongue into the cleft of Steve’s ass to lick up the fizzing alcohol. Steve squeaked again, and Bucky’s cock twitched in reply. It was just a shame for Steve that he couldn’t see it.

Getting back to his feet, Bucky picked his camera back up and gave Steve the instructions for his final pose. 

“Steve. Wheel.” No further elaboration was required. Bucky began to shoot as soon as Steve started to move. He pushed himself to his knees and then to his feet. He raised his arms over his head and let himself bend backwards until his palms met the floor and his stomach was raised to the ceiling. His legs were spread, shoulder width apart for balance, and his cock dangled temptingly between them. Bucky circled him, still taking pictures, but also listening to Steve’s rhythmical breathing. Getting into this pose was no effort for Steve. The trick, though, would be holding it, and Bucky wouldn’t be the sometimes mean Dom that he was if he didn’t make it just a little trickier.

Bucky picked up the tray and carefully balanced it on Steve toned, flat abs. This time there was a reaction from Steve, albeit a very tiny one. Just the briefest of flinches as the cool metal touched his stomach. Bucky stroked his hand down Steve’s tensed thigh.

“Good boy. You’re doing so well for me. Almost done now.”

Steve whined, making Bucky’s smile broader. He took more pictures, making sure he’d gotten one from every angle, capturing every shaft of light and the way Steve’s leash had slid past his right shoulder to dangle and then coil onto the floor by his head. He zoomed in, capturing the peppering of sweat droplets on Steve’s brow. How one of his freckles was distorted through the salty liquid. There was a small tremor in Steve’s arms and thighs now - Bucky could see the muscles twitching. His boy had had enough. Bucky might be mean sometimes, but he never set Steve up to fail knowing how badly that would affect him. He capped his camera, placing it up on the bookshelf knowing he wouldn’t need it again today, and then removed the tray with its half full glass of champagne still on it. Leaving Steve where he was, he walked through to the kitchen, downed the rest of the alcohol and washed up the flute. Again, he didn’t hurry himself walking back through to the living room, and as he took in the vision that was Steve once more, he felt a rush of emotion. Love. Lust. Protectiveness. Joy. Steve gave him all of these things and accepted them back in return. 

“Steve, Kneel.” 

With a muted sigh, Steve let himself slip to the ground before righting himself and resuming the first position he’d adopted, back straight, his hands on his thighs. Bucky crouched in front of him and slowly removed the blindfold, adoring the way Steve blinked owlishly at him as his glassy eyes were uncovered. He was still fairly deep in subspace, despite the physical demands that had been placed upon him.

Bucky then took hold of the end of Steve’s leash and stood back up. “Heel.”

Steve hurried onto his hands and knees at Bucky’s side, keeping perfect pace as Bucky left the living room and made his way to the bedroom. Every time they did this, it strengthened the idea in his mind that Steve would look even more delectable with a pair of ears and a tail plug. Not just his boy, but his puppy. It would be very cute, and arousing, to see him humping a stuffy. However, that idea would have to wait for another day. For now Bucky needed to give his good boy a reward for all his hard work. 

He stopped by the end of the bed, Steve stopping immediately as well, and let the leash drop. He pulled his sweater over his head, placing it on top of the easy chair, and began to unbutton his shirt. Steve cocked his head to the side, his eyes widening and his cock started to fill out again as Bucky started to reveal his thick chest sprinkled with dark hair. Bucky undressed calmly - not too hurried, but not drawing it out either. Once he was naked, he stepped back close to Steve and cupped his face with his hand. Steve pushed his face against Bucky’s palm and spoke for the first time in over an hour. 

“Sir! I need you. Please.”

Bucky swiped his thumb over Steve’s cheekbone, captivated by the delicate fluttering of his long eyelashes - if he were a poet he’d write sonnets about those eyelashes. “I know, baby. You were so good for me. So very good. Now get up on the bed and present for me, sugar.” 

Steve eagerly obeyed, moving so fast he almost got tangled up in his leash, and assumed the position, face down ass up, holding himself open in record time. Bucky moved leisurely, climbing up onto the bed behind him and just giving himself a moment to just look at Steve. Really look at him.

The swathes of delicate pale skin pulled taut over firm muscles. The smattering of freckles that changed in number over the course of the year, depending on how much Steve’s skin was left uncovered. Steve’s face was turned to the side, his aquiline nose in stark profile against the dark sheets of the bed and his lips were pink and swollen from where he’d had bitten on them in anticipation of what was to come.

In a word, he was perfect.

Bucky reached out his right hand, extending his pointer finger and bringing it to the skin at the back of Steve’s neck, just under his collar, trailing it slowly down his body to swirl it over his dry hole. Steve shuddered and let out another needy whine. Bucky did it again, just to tease him.

“Sir, please!” The sound of Steve’s begging rolled over Bucky, the knowledge that Steve was choosing to put the power of his pleasure in Bucky’s hands making him dizzy. It was time to stop delaying.

He placed a grounding hand on the small of Steve’s back and leant over to open the top drawer, snagging the bottle of lube. “You need it so much, don’t you angel-boy?”

Steve nodded his head into the comforter, knowing the sound of the drawer being opened and sinking deeper into subspace in a Pavolvian response. Bucky flicked the cap open and allowed a generous dollop to fall onto Steve’s exposed hole, enjoying the shudder it elicited. He slid his pointer finger through the viscous liquid, both smearing it around and covering his digit. Happy that everything was well lubed, Bucky started to circle Steve’s ring of muscle, gently pressing on it and urging it to relax under his touch. He slid his free hand down to cup one of Steve’s pert ass cheeks, groping it lewdly.

An expert in Steve’s body by now, Bucky knew when to press his finger a little more firmly, a frisson of lust and power shooting through him as Steve’s ass opened and accepted the intruding digit. He thrust it back and forwards slowly but firmly, still working on getting Steve nice and loose. He let go of his boy’s ass check so he squirt a bit more lube, covering his second finger and tucking that in beside the first. Steve moaned deeply and his knees slid a bit further apart, opening and displaying himself even more.

Bucky curled his fingers and rubbed straight over Steve’s sweet spot, blatantly enjoying the feeling of power when Steve jerked as though zapped by electricity. As he continued to stroke over Steve’s prostate, his boy started to move his hips, fucking himself on Bucky’s fingers, lost in the pleasurable sensation of it all. Bucky swatted him on his ass, not hard enough to hurt, but harshly enough that the sting would pull Steve up a bit to a place where he could hear and follow instructions.

“Don’t come, baby. You come on my fingers, you don’t get my cock. You’ll just have to lie there as I jack off over your ass cheeks. I won’t even let you see.”

“No!” Steve exclaimed, a note of distress in his voice. “I’ll be good. I’ll be your good boy. I won’t come. I swear it.”

Bucky rubbed his free hand over the pale pink mark he’d left on Steve’s buttock, soothing his flesh. “Shh, shh, sweetheart. I know. I know you’re my good boy. I was just reminding you, because sometimes, when you’re deep in your soft place, you get a bit forgetful, yeah? My sweet boy.” Bucky took the opportunity to add a third finger and Steve jolted again.

“Sir!”

“Almost ready. Just a little bit longer and then I’ll fill you up. You did so well today. I won’t make you wait too long for your reward. Just got to make sure you’re ready for me. Remember your Sir is big.”

“‘M ready now,” Steve complained with a pout, but Bucky just swatted him again.

“You’re ready when I say you are. You aren’t normally a brat, so don’t start now.”

Steve buried his head into the comforter again, his ears turning pink with shame at Bucky’s words. “I’m a good boy,” he wailed in despair, but Bucky just continued to grin and saw his fingers in and out, nudging Steve’s prostate in a teasing, almost cruel manner. Steve shook and trembled under him, trying not to be too needy or come too soon. Both were apparently proving difficult, from the amount of squirming he was doing. However, Bucky took pity on him soon enough, his three fingers now moving easily. He pulled them from Steve’s body, missing the warm clutch of it but knowing that what was to come would be so much better, and wiped his hand on sheets. He took hold of his cock, adding some lube to it, and jacked himself a few times. He kept his gaze on Steve’s ass, his hands still spreading his cheeks wide and his now slack hole drawing him in.

“Here we go, sugar,” he drawled and he heard Steve draw in a deep breath and then exhale as he felt Bucky push against him. The head of his thick cock popped through the first ring, and Bucky hissed between his teeth as he felt himself consumed. With his hands curled around Steve’s hips, fingertips pressed into his cum gutters, Bucky rocked back and forth inching his way inside. They moaned in sync as he bottomed out and Bucky allowed himself another moment just to feel. This would never not feel like a religious experience and deserved the time to be fully appreciated. He couldn’t wait for long, though, especially when Steve was squeezing around him and letting out mewls of need.

He tightened his grip, part of him hoping to leave bruises that could be photographed beautifully tomorrow, pulled back and then trust back in, enjoying the wail that Steve let out. Bucky was like a man possessed, his brain taken over by the sensations around him. The feel of Steve on his cock. The sound of Steve’s punched out moans. The sight of Steve’s fluttering eyelids, slack mouth and needy hole clinging to him. The taste of his own sweat as it pearled on his upper lip as he drove forward. The smell of sex in the air, heavy and musky.

When Bucky slid his right hand from Steve’s hip to grasp at his cock, Steve’s hips began to buck, fucking into his Dom’s fist and back onto his cock. He was so gone, and Bucky was feasting on it. Photographing Steve earlier had been a form of edging himself, and Bucky was ready to come. Ready to fill up Steve until he was leaking.

He jerked at Steve’s cock, bringing him right to the edge, and then just letting him stay there for a heartbeat. Then for a second.

“Come for me, baby. Come now. Then I’ll fill you up, just the way you like.”

Steve obeyed him like he always did, wailing into the bedclothes - squirting over them too - and spasming around Bucky’s cock, squeezing him, near strangling him. Bucky roared as he followed Steve over the cliff, his balls tightening and his cock spurting out rope after rope of cum into Steve’s warm channel. 

Bucky collapsed over Steve’s back, his hands taking some of his weight, and pressed kisses to the back of Steve’s neck. He really didn’t want to pull out yet, but he should so he could start on the aftercare his boy needed and deserved. With a groan he pushed himself up, but then stopped. Steve, despite the fact that he was lying with his eyes closed, lost in his own little world, was still holding his ass cheeks apart, which gave Bucky an unobstructed view of his puffy rim which was now dribbling with his own spend. In that moment Bucky cursed himself for leaving his camera in the other room as this - this - was a picture perfect moment. However, it couldn’t be helped. 

As Bucky got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom to clean up and grab a washcloth to do the same for Steve, all he could think was that they’d have to do this again, and next time he would have his camera. His tired dick gave a feeble twitch at the thought, making Bucky snort.

For now, though, he needed to get back to Steve, clean him up, pull him in for cuddles, and start bringing him back to reality. Pictures could wait for another day.

Tag list: @km-ffluv @wheezy-stucky @christywrites @alexakeyloveloki @doasyoudesireandlive @galactusdevourerofworlds @crayongirl-linz

#stucky fic #stucky au #buckybarnesbingo2023 #steve rogers bingo #stucky bingo #build a bucky bingo 2023 #steve rogers x Bucky Barnes

[kingkatsuki]

Baseball Bakugou and Kirishima? I don’t know a thing about baseball but in honour of the new OVA I have brainrot.

You can’t help but squirm in your seat at the sight of them, preparing for the match. Practising their throws as Bakugou and Kirishima throw a ball back and forth. Their arms pulled back as they shoot a ball across the pitch with such precision. Baseball caps holding down their hair and blocking their eyes from the harsh sun as messy spikes peek out from beneath the hem.

The way Bakugou’s white pants cling to his legs as he throws a thigh up to add some extra strength to his pitch. Thick veins in his arms bulging as he throws the ball, displaying the ferocious power behind his pitch that would make most men cower out of the way of the ball as Kirishima stands behind the batter ready to catch it. His catcher helmet protecting his face, not that he needs it with Bakugou as the pitcher, his toothy smirk visible through the metal grates.

Bakugou throws with such precision you barely see the ball soaring through the air as the batter swings way too late, the ball already safe in Kirishima’s hands as he holds it in the air, chest puffed out as he looks even larger in the safety vest.

Bakugou gives his best friend a smirk before he turns to the crowd, trying to catch your gaze as he looks for silent praise from you. He’ll never admit it, but he loves whenever you come to his games. Loves showing off and proving to you just how good he is— not that you need any explanation. It’s evident from the way the crowd roars as Bakugou turns back to pitch, another ball in his hands as he tosses it up in the air playfully as he positions himself, clearly trying to intimidate the batter as he moves back into position. Thankful for the way his kit hugs his body as you let your eyes roam his frame, ignoring the way he throws the ball as your eyes focus on the fabric tightening around his ass.

Another fastball soars past the batter as Kirishima catches it with ease, the crowd roaring with glee as Bakugou turns to give you a final glance before he begins to jog towards first base to cover it. Knowing that he’s just as good at catching balls as Kirishima so the other team better be weary.

When it comes to teams switching Kirishima steps up with his bat, kicking the dirt with his shoes as he positions himself. The huge stature of him towers over the poor catcher behind him who can barely see past his hulking form. Even the pitchers intimidated as they situate themselves on the mound as they get ready to throw. Kirishima holding the bat up around his shoulders as he smirks at his opponent, the sight of him has your heart racing as the uniform does little to hide just how large he is.

A screwball flies towards him but Kirishima swings perfectly, hitting the trick ball as he knocks it practically to the other side of the pitch.

There’s something stunning about watching Kirishima when he runs, watching him sprint to each base. Giving you the perfect view of him as you watch from the stands, cheering with the crowd as you see the beads of sweat begin to glisten on his face under the harsh sun as he slides into the mound just before the opposing team catch the ball. The dust from the pitch leaving dark lines against his uniform, only adding to how alluring he looks now coveted in sweat and dirt as he cheers from his position.

Just imagining them both having their own custom gear too- their bats and helmets designed in their signature colours, even though their uniform stays the team colours.

Watching as Kirishima and Bakugou move to leave the pitch victorious. Kirishima stopping to hand a baseball to a young fan in one of the first few rows as he poses for pictures, all smiles behind his helmet as he slings an arm over their shoulders.

Bakugou instead making a beeline directly for you, smirking as he leans over the bleachers to press a kiss to your lips, his upper lip sweaty against you as he grins into the kiss. Hands clinging to your waist to pull you over the front row and into his arms. Uncaring that everyone can see you both as he gets his reward for the team win— his favourite part about having you at games is that you get to see him win.

#baseball Bakugou #baseball Kirishima #jo thirsts #thirst posts #Bakugou thirst #Kirishima thirst

[bluegiragi]

so this might be an odd question, but how long does it take you to complete a piece of art (im thinking specifically like a chapter of ur soap/ghost/könig comic) because u put them out v frequently it feels? as an artist i create things so incredibly slowly, it feels as if i never actually get anything done, so i was wondering if u maybe had any tips for improving the speed at which u actually create stuff?

( also an obligatory “im in love with your art and your interpretations of the characters” bc its true and ur also my fave cod artist <3 )

it's funny that you ask that, since I've recently been feeling super insecure about how long it takes me to draw comics and how I don't think the quality's up to par which. goes to show how personal perception fucks with you haha

first, you should remember that art is never a race. It's always great to aspire to improve, but never beat yourself up over having to take a little longer than others. and for another thing - I'm lucky enough to be completely self employed which means that art IS my job. I have the luxury of spending literally all my time every day on this craft (which is a DREAM) but it also means i've had years of experience with making comics under my belt. I've gotten faster at it simply because I've done it for long enough.

In terms of tips...I honestly don't have much meaningful advice to help you speed up the process. If there's a section of it that takes too much time and frustrates you - consider looking up speedpaints, online tutorials and other resources that can give you a different direction. Change up your brushes! See if you can find one that just makes the lines come easier. And if you're an artist focused on people, practise your anatomy. You'll be able to bust out a pose in seconds once you're familiar enough.

edit: i just realised i didn't even answer your initial question. Usually takes me 3 days to complete a 'chapter', maybe more if it's extra long or I'm just having a couple of bad art days :P

#i sincerely hope this helps anon :) #and for what its worth #everyone feels like theyre sluggish #except idk. demons like umikochan sdaljfkdk #but even she struggles sometimes #its good to just see which parts of the creation process you wanna keep and which ones you need to refine #best of luck! #askbox #anon