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winterarmyy · 8 months

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Thin Walls, Thin Lines

What will happen if a fuckboy falls in love with a hopeless romantic?

Summary: Modern society surely had corrupted the mind of the hundred-something year old man, Bucky Barnes, when he seemed to have forgotten the art of courting a lady. Lost in lust and pleasure, he had been indulging with endless array of different girls on his bed almost every night. And the opposite side of that thin walls of his room, lives a hopeless romantic who he was madly in love with.

Navigation: Original Version || Deleted Scene* (alt. ending)

Pairing: fuckboy!bucky x female!reader

Words: 4.9k++

Warnings: avenger au, explicit language/contents, angst, lil bit of drama, fluff, please bare with the fuckery of bucky barnes, reader is sensitive yet quite fiesty too. i can't backup steve on this one, he is on his own.

A/N: As you can see from the navigation bar, we have two different endings for this fic, because I am greedy and indecisive. The original version ended with fluff and the deleted scene (alternate ending) ended with absolute filth of a smut. So... enjoy! 💕

P/S: And this is also my submission for @jessybarnes 's writing challenge. I have chosen "Kiss me again" from the prompt list and I hope you like the way I used it in this fic!

Read my other works here: Masterlist

Y/N has always been a hopeless romantic. She dreams of a love like the ones she read in books. She craved someone who loves her so deeply that she could never find peace in anyone else but him. She wanted all the love songs and poetry to be reminders of him; his beauty, his charms.

Fresh flowers, stargazing, coffee dates, kisses that tastes of cotton candy, warm cuddles, and every little things in between; she longed for it all. She dreams of a love that is so consuming until all that's left in that small bubble of infatuation is their entangled soul mending each other to the bone.

That's what makes her a hopeless romantic.

And very much the opposite of her was Bucky. He is an infuriating flirt. There's not a day goes by that he doesn't call her with sickeningly sweet nicknames; doll, gorgeous, princess, darling, you name it. He will definitely drop some suggestive lines at any given chance and most of the time when she least expected.

He can charm anyone just by his presence, and if you're lucky enough to get one of his infamous smile; then you best believe that you won't be going home alone that night, or able to walk proper the next morning. He is the typical playboy you know and hate; very often she'll see different girl in his arms or on his bed. And that man seemed to not know when to stop. Sometimes, she do wonder if he ever got tired of sex. Because she knows for certain that he can go on and on for hours, daily.

"Fuck,, that's it. Spread your legs for me. Yeah, 'atta girl."

Speaking of the devil.

This has been recurring for months now. It seems like the man never sleep because his voice would always wake her up. She couldn't decide what was worse; between being forced to hear the sounds of the skin slapping, the bed creaking, him groaning and her squealing or being a super light sleeper that even a whisper in her room would jolt her awake.

Y/N let out an annoyed grunt when she swoop her head under the pillow, hoping to silenced the noises even just a little bit. Surprise; it didn't help at all. Her body cringed and her face contorted into a squint when she hear the other woman announcing her release as the headboard hits the wall a little harder, a little faster.

Bucky Barnes sure is a fuckboy but unfortunately for her, he is also the man she fell in love with.

She refused to show it, but lord knows how much her heart simply swell to the sight of his smile. Despite the flirtatious tendencies of his, there was something about him that attracted her like a magnet; or like a moth to a flame.

Maybe it was his old soul, or maybe because she saw glimpses of timeless charm in him; the way he moves, the way he gazes, and the way treated her. Nevertheless, it was such a devastating thing for someone like her to fall for someone like him.

The last thing she wanted in a man, is to look at her like she was just a good fuck and nothing more. She just couldn't imagine herself to be tied with someone like that. And Bucky was exactly that someone.

Y/N haven't been able to get more than 2 hours of sleep for months now. The lack of it had caused her to drastically lose physical strength and lately fatigue has been a constant presence as well.

So she decided to go the medbay to consult Dr. Cho about it. After running some tests, she sat her down for some Camomile tea as she went through the results, "It seemed like the severe lack of sleep had took a really heavy toll on you."

Y/N sighed as she place the tea cup on the back on the table, "Yes, I am well aware of that. That is precisely why I am here."

"Nightmares?" Dr. Cho speculated.

If the definition of nightmare is 'the moans of the man, that she had a crush on, fucking someone else next door' then, yes. She was having long and nearly endless nightmares for months now.

"Something like that." She lied.

"Then, I have some medication that I can prescribe to you. You should take it daily after dinner and..." Before Dr. Cho managed to finish her instructions, Y/N quickly asked, "Is it possible to fix me without meds?"

Dr. Cho frowned curiously, "Why wouldn't take meds? That's the quickest way to help for your situation, as far as I know." she asked.

This was not her first rodeo; she had troubles sleeping back when she was merely teenager. And the last time tried using meds, she ended up almost overdosed herself from it, "It's just... I prefer not to." she evaded.

Dr. Cho nodded understandingly before clarifying the current situation, "Well then, I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do for you. Though some research suggested that meditation routine before sleep can help. Or putting up some natural ambience like the sound of rain or waves--"

Y/N wasn't really listening after the first sentence. Because all she could thought of was how much longer she can bare with this and what will it take for her to finally snap.

Y/N was dying. At least it felt like it.

With her deprivation of sleep and the intense combat training she had to go through today, her patience was reaching it's limit. After visiting the medbay 2 weeks ago, she had tried to approach Bucky about it but he always took it lightly.

There was series of insincere apology followed by a cheeky promise to 'keep the tone down' for her. But nothing changed. She asked him again and again; days gone by he didn't live up to the end of his bargain.

For those past week, Y/N had resorted to sleep in the living room for most of the nights. How she dreaded to leave her comfy bed but she could no longer tolerate the sounds coming from the other side on the wall. Though she still jolted awake from time to time due to how uncomfortable it was sleeping on a couch, but at least she got more than 2 hours of sleep if she was to compare to the nights she slept in her own room.

It's not she didn't notice it at all; she knew exactly how and why it happened. The habit of microsleeping that she developed during the course of this training. The slowed reaction time, the lack of energy, she can feel it. But, there was nothing she can do about it.

The only cure for this was to get some rest. A proper rest. And that can't happened, not without Bucky's cooperation.

When Y/N was marching towards the sargent who was sitting way across the gym; she could see how his eyes undress every piece of her clothing, how his tongue rolled out and his teeth sunk into his lips.

She wasn't even wearing anything remotely provocative but here he was lusting over the way her hips sway especially when he was the one she's walking towards.

The moment she stood in front of him, his mouth lifted into a smirk, "Yes, princess. How may I be of your service?" His voice was sultry and the way he towers over made her slightly nervous for no reason.

Her heart fluttered, yet her lips refused to form a smile, "Don't call me princess."

"I apologize, my queen." Bucky gave her a cheeky smile.

Y/N didn't want to drag this any longer than she should, so she quicky jump into it and said, "So you know how I’m like-"

"-absolutely embarrassingly in love with me? Yes, I'm familiar go on." Bucky cuts in. If panic ever rose in her chest, then she was doing an incredible job of hiding it, "Can you just shut up for a second and take me seriously?"

His eyes glint with flirtaous mischief when he replied, "Doll, you know the fastest way to shut me up is to kiss me."

Y/N simply sighed before she began to rant, "I really don't have the mood for this banter with you, Barnes. I just want you tone down your nightly routine. It is because of you I've been having trouble sleeping and--"

He quickly stopped her before she nags even more than she already did, "Okay, okay I get it. We've been through this, doll." Bucky's face lit up when he suggested, "How about I help you sleep, hmm? I may know a thing or two about tiring someone out." There was surely something unholy in those steel blue eyes of his.

And Y/N picked it up rather quick, but considering the amount of times he had insinuate something more than just a friendly banter, then of course she knew exactly what he was suggesting, so she simply replied, "No offense, Barnes. But, I don't do one night stand or no strings attached thing. And with a manwhore like you? No, thank you." sassy was her answer.

Bucky's head tilted back as he laughed, then when he spoke his voice was like a devil luring an angel to sin, "Oh babydoll, if I were to be a whore, it'll only be for you." He stepped closer so that only she can hear his confession.

His masculine scent hits her nose, mixture of the citrus cologne and his natural odour was just perfect. Annoyingly alluring; but perfect. And it took all her will to hold it together and blatantly rejects him, "Still not interested."

Bucky groaned in protest, "Come on, princess. You can't keep dreaming for some prince charming to court you, do you? You know that's probably never going to happen right?"

Surely he meant only to tease her; that it was less likely that an actual prince to romance her. Not that she did not deserve the world; she does. And Bucky was more than will to burn it to the ground if that's what she wanted.

But, Y/N didn't see it that way. She thought that Bucky meant that she is not worthy enough for a decent man to court her with respect and chilvary; that she was just a toy fit for fucking and nothing more. And the fact that her "insomia" had affected her usually high patience and reduced it to almost paper thin, it was only fair for her to finally snap.

She can tolerate his endless flirtation but she can't simple turn a blind eye for his insult.

Bucky was caught by surprise why Y/N harshly grabbed him by the collar, pushing him back and nearly stumbled; her eyes was pure fire when she growled, "Don't you dare mock the way I value relationship, Barnes." Her nose flared with anger and the commotion has attracted some prying eyes towards the two.

"Just because you enjoy fucking anything that breathes, that doesn't mean that everyone else does." She seethed, "The only cock that will be wrecking my pussy would belong to someone I love and if you have a problem with that, you can fuck right off." She forcefully pushed him until his ass landed on the bench behind him.

Her feet stomped all throughout her exit out of the gym, leaving Bucky in a blinking confusion.

He knew it was wrong.

It felt good. It felt right.

But, it was so fucking wrong.

To keep moaning Y/N's name when he railed those strangers to heaven; when he came so hard into the thin layer of condom. And it was always a soft and slow type of whimper, right in those girls' ears. So intimate, so careful not to let his secret out; knowing how thin the walls between him and the love of his life.

But, he certainly didn't care about the girl he was fucking. If it wasn't for his heavy body pinning her from behind, she would've elbowed him right in the guts for moaning another woman's name. Unfortunately for him, she quickly ditched and see herself out after the first round.

Now, he laid there; naked and bare. Thinking of how he simply couldn't help it. How could he not think of Y/N all the times? Not when he was deeply, helplessly in love with her. But, he knew she wouldn't bat an eye at him now that he had the reputation of a "fuckboy", as the young ones describes it. She especially made it clear today at the gym. She's never going to give him a chance now.

Not when she's a hopeless romantic. And the fact that he too was once the same was just aggravating to him. He was such a gentleman decades ago; before Hydra, before the war, when he was but a young man living Brooklyn.

His Ma had really shaped him into the perfect gentleman; every parents in the neighbourhood wanted him as their son-in-law. They claimed he would make the perfect husband for their daughters. But, things are different now. And he knew that the man he was before was long forgotten.

It was just curiosity at first; about how sex works in the 21st century. However, Bucky quickly fall into the promises of lust and pleasure; changing girls like changing clothes. He let himself dosed in ecstasy, as if it was a drug to silenced the dark and haunting memories of his past, like it was a quick escape from reality, from the Winter Soldier.

Then, Y/N happened.

Bucky never saw it coming; but, he fell. Hard.

They were colleague for years and had been a good friend he can rely on besides Steve. She was so sweet and pretty. Probably the most gorgeous woman he ever laid his eyes on, in the hundred something year old life of his. Most importantly, she was kind and patient and strong and fierce yet so unforgivingly selfless.

But that didn't matter now, does it? Especially when she despise him. And it was all because of the unholy title he held.

At first Bucky didn't notice it, but now that he stepped closer into the living room, he heard it again. The rustling fabric, the quiet whimper coming from the sofa. His steps were as careful as a wolf on a hunt, stalking a hiding prey in between the trees.

If Bucky were to guess what he would find on a late night trip to the kitchen, he would've probably said 'ice cream' and not 'Y/N sleeping in the living room'. His eyes briefly raked her sleeping figure, curling uncomfortably into the pastel purple blanket. Then at the scattered pillows on the floor around her.

Why was she sleeping in the living room?

Another whine passed her lips and his attention was locked on her frowning face; it seemed like she was having a bad dream. Bucky carefully crouch next to her, and ravel in her beauty. Such delicate features, long lashes, pretty freckles across her nose, and those soft looking lips; he would kill just to taste her them, to sink his teeth in between them.

It worried him though; to see her sleeping here. She was clearly uncomfortable, it was a mystery that she managed to even fall asleep in the first place. Bucky suspected she simply passed out due to today's training. It was particularly hard, even for him. Let alone a normal human being like Y/N.

Not to mention the fight that they had.

Then, it clicked. The complains about how she had trouble sleeping. It wasn't just to make fun of him or tease him in any way. It was a plead. She needed to be heard and he completely blew her off with jest and jokes.

"Was it because of... me?" Bucky thought to himself. It all made sense now, "Shit." A curse rang in his mind when he bit the insides of his cheek. He was mad at himself. How could he be so insensitive? And he claimed to love her? Please. What an absolute piece of shit he was.

When Y/N began to toss and turn, her blanket fell from her body. Even in her sleep, the cold managed to catch her. She instinctively curled towards herself, seeking warmth but was no avail.

She look so small and Bucky felt a surge of need to cuddle her close, keeping her safe, keeping her warm in his arms. But if he does that, he'd probably get kicked in the nuts. So instead, he picked up the fallen blanket lay it back across her whole body; carefully not to disturb her sleep.

Bucky smiled softly when she snuggled into the fabric and before he walked away, he swore to stop this corrupting habit of his and apologize for being such a douchebag to her. And if he's lucky, maybe he could even properly court her.

But for now, he just needed to go through tommorrow's mission. So does everyone one else in the team.

"Do you realized what you have done?" Not matter how hard he tried to hold it back, everyone in the Quinjet can see how Steve was seething.

Y/N's lost of sleep had took a toll on her more than she realized now that it had affected her performance in mission. She tried to ignore the way she was basically seeing Steve's feet multiply by the second, and continued to look down in shame, "I'm sorry, Captain."

"Don't apologize to me. Nat's the one who got shot because of you!" He yelled as he pointed at the red haired woman at the side of the plane.

No matter how much she wanted to blame Bucky on this; how he literally robbed her from fulfilling her human needs to rest at night, but she just couldn't. It was her fault that Natasha got hurt. If she was more alert, she would've seen the enemy standing right in front of her. If she was awake enough, then Natasha wouldn't get hurt.

Tears threatened to form when she looked over at her dear friend, bleeding at the side, "I'm so sorry, Nat. I really am. I didn't know what came to me and I--"

"Oh please, I'd take a bullet for you any day of the week, honey." Natasha swiftly cuts into her apology, in attempt to diffuse the heated situation.

But, Steve totally disagree with her, "Don't make this 'okay', Nat. You almost died because for her carelessness. Being inadequate shouldn't be okay for any agent to do. It is extremely reckless and downright stupid."

There was a sound of a distant gasp from the pilot pit, "Language!" Tony was clearly trying to lighten up the mood but it failed rather miserably when no one reacted.

Steve had every right to be mad, especially when his girlfriend was injured because of this, but oh does it hurt to hear his stabbing words. It hurts more when it comes from the Captain America himself.

God, she was extremely tired.

Physically, mentally and that's what happens when a person is lack of sleep. Then when she thought about all her hardwork and struggles to train amongst the superhero themselves, she couldn't help but to crack; and the tears that was building up in her eyes finally fell.

When Steve saw it, he lost it completely, "Oh, you're gonna cry now? WOW. Real mature, y/n. You can't disappoint me more can you?" At that point, he was being a little too mean for anyone's liking.

Especially Bucky.

So Bucky slowly pulled Y/N back, and shielded her body behind his as he went on face to face with his bestfriend, "That's enough, Steve." He warned but Steve doesn't seem to get the idea, "No, Buck. Do you see--"

Bucky took one step closer, his menacing glare went right through Steve's soul, "I said... that's enough." He repeated his words. This time the message went through.

Steve gulped and cleared his throat as he waved a dismissing hand, "I expect a full report and a letter of apology from you when we get back, y/n." He ended his sentence with his back turned and then walked away towards his girl.

When Bucky turned around to face Y/N, she was but a crying mess. Tears kept streaming down and her lips quivered in so much sadness. Now, that she was in the light, Bucky could see the darker shades on the bag of her eyes.

This was his fault. If he just stopped goofing around and listen to what she had to say yesterday, she wouldn't need to go through this, "Oh sweetheart..." though he meant to call her in his mind, it might just slipped through his lips.

Y/N glared up at him, "This was none of your concern, Barnes." She spat.

He shrugged, "Well, lucky for you, I don't care whose it is. What I know is I care about you. Now, let's get that wound patch up." Bucky simply said, and that was when she realized that her ribs were slashed open, bleeding and torn. Maybe it was not too deep, that was why she didn't notice it.

But it is an injury nonetheless, and it was a surprise to her that Bucky noticed it. "I don't want your help." She frowned yet continued to sniffle.

"Yeah, but you need it." He replied as he carefully tucked the loose strand of her hair behind her ears.

Unable to think of any comebacks, she let her fatigue win over. Her lips shut tightly and her chest shuddered for breaths. And when Bucky took her hand in his and lead the way, her body instantly responded by gripping him tight.

Bucky's heart soared at the touch of her small hand in his, while fire was burning in hers.

She hates him. She hates how caring he can be. She hates how soft he was when handling her. And she hates how easy it was for him to make her fall for him even more.

Y/N's body quickly went on auto pilot; she let him undress the blood soaking top and patch her wounds. And Bucky let her cry her heart out on his shoulder all the way back home to New York.

That night when everyone had settled back to their own rooms, Y/N was prepping to sleep outside again. It was like a schedule for Bucky to always fuck whatever his frustrations out when they finished a mission.

And she doesn't want to hear any of it. Not tonight.

Thankfully, her wounds were mostly healed thanks to Dr. Cho and her ingenious of a machine, Cradle. That thing fixed the teared tissue right up with its regenerative functions.

Now, Y/N just needs to endure the bruises but those are bearable. What she couldn't bear is the lack of energy and goodnight's sleep. She wished to just pass out for days and not wake up even if a prince came to kiss her to wake.

And she knew that sleeping in her room won't give her that.

Y/N piled her pillows and blanket on top of another before scanning the room one last time to make sure she didn't leave anything behind. Because she was not planning to step foot in her room until dawn comes, hoping the sounds from the other side of the room died down by then.

When she was walking pass Bucky's, she noticed how awfully quiet his room was, but she didn't think about it too much. She waited for the elevator to open its door only to reveal the man himself, "Barnes."

He eyed how Y/N's figure almost hidden behind the piles of pillow in her hold. He stepped out as he asked, "Where do you think you're going?" Bucky knew exactly where but he was not having any of that.

It was weird to her that she didn't see any sign or Bucky's hook-up in his arms, but she bet that there will be one after she's gone downstairs, "Away from you, that's for sure." She said, taking a step into the elevator but instantly stopped the moment Bucky blocked her path.

Bucky lips flatten against each other; he didn't say anything, he only frowned down at her then simply grabbed her wrist and dragged her back to her room.

Utterly confused, "What are you doing? Hey, let go of me." She twisted her wrist in his hold, while trying to balance the pillows from falling. A useless trial it was; because who could even escape that metal grip of his.

Bucky quickly respond, "No. You're not sleeping on that shitty sofa tonight." He stopped in the middle of the corridor and turned to her, "You're injured, y/n. You need on a proper rest on a proper bed." He coaxed.

How did he know that she had been sleeping on the coach? She thought before saying out loud, "I'm fine, Barnes. It's not even that deep of a wound, the Cradle fixed it clean. So, can you just... let go of my hand?" She sighed.

But Bucky refused to even spare her a glance, he silently tug her and stomp his way towards her room. There waa retaliation on her side, but his lack of response had lead Y/N to her defeat. She begrudgingly followed his long strides until she they stood by her bed.

He snatched each of the pillows and blankets off her hands, while Y/N simply blinked speechlessly as she watched Bucky started set up her bed like he had been doing it everyday.

Weirdly, at times like this, she found him extremely lovely. There was no corny and flirty comment about her, or his annoying habit of teasing every little thing she does.

There was just a comfortable silence and a kind gesture; the type that pulled the red strings of her heart just enough to make her want to dream of him.

Fucking hell, she can't believe that he managed to do that again! Making her fall for his antics. He really needs to stop doing that, it's simply rude.

Y/N broke from her love struck trance when she felt his cold metal laced around her hand again, he pulled her closer, "Now hop on, bunny. You need to rest." He lead her under the blanket and she grumbled curses under her breath, something about he need stop calling her weird nicknames like that.

When she was well tucked in and comfortable, Bucky sat at the edge of the bed by her side and spoke, "I'm sorry. For not trying to listen to you at the gym yesterday. I was a jerk."

His apology was so sincere that Y/N caught herself in a shock. Who is this man? What has he done to Bucky Barnes?

His eyes lingered to the wall behind her bed as if he was trying to find the right words to address it, "About the noises..." he trailed, "...it'll stop from now on."

Oh. Nevermind. She liked this Bucky. She wants to keep him forever, "Really? You mean it?" There weren't any effort put to hide her excitement when her voice nearly squeaked.

Bucky chuckled amusingly at her reaction, "Really, doll. But, you gotta promise not to sleep on the couch again."

Sparks of joy filled her chest when he confirmed his decision. Sure, it was such a small favour to do to anyone. But, she appreciate his efforts to make amends. "Hmm, I promise." She hummed happily, blinking slow as the comfort of her bed lured her into a drowsy state.

"Thanks, Bucky." Her mentioned his name.

Thank god for the super sensitive hearing ability, cause Bucky surely love the sound of her voice whispering his name so softly, "For apologizing or for tucking you to sleep?" He jest.

It only made her eyes rolled to the side and a smile spread across her face, "Both." she said. "And for what you did on the jet."

Bucky simply shrugged as if it was a normal thing to do. But, it wasn't. It was rare for him to challenge Steve like he did. And he did it for her, "Really, I owe you one." She said assuringly.

A playful smirk pulled on Bucky's lips when he spoke "Doll, you shouldn't be saying that so carelessly. Who knows I might use it for despicable things." Surely, he love to be the cause to bloom those red shades on her cheeks.

But it didn't happened when she asked quietly, "Will you?"

And the silence that came after was heavy with tenderness while their eyes spoke the truth to one another. As the thin lines in between got blurry, for once, there was just streams of genuine feelings pouring out of them, leaking through and contaminating the air with its magic.

Would he? Take advantage of her?

How could he though? He loved her too much to even think of purposely hurting her. "No." Bucky replied as he leaned down and placed a sweet kiss on her forehead, "Sleep well, princess." He mumbled against her skin.

And he pulled back, he grinned a cheeky smile. There it was; the pink blush on her face, wide surprise of her eyes and her slightly parted lips. She looked so adorable. He swore couldn't get enough of it.

"Kiss me again..." she nearly growled, but her blushing on her face didn't indicate anger, "...and I will choke you in your sleep." Though it was an attempt to threaten but typical of Bucky to just love to turn things around, "Hmm, is that an invitation, princess?" He purred and stole another kiss; this time, on her cheek. "Then, I will be looking forward to it." He whispered as quickly as he removed himself from the scene.

When he found his own bed, he couldn't help but to laugh at the muffled scream coming from the opposite side of the thin walls, "James. Fucking. Barnes!!!"

End.

Alternate ending (smut edition): Deleted Scene >>

Read my other works here: Masterlist

A/N: I hope you drop some thoughts behind before going to the deleted scene. Which I know you will. See you on the other side 👀

#jessybarnesreaches500 #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #avenger!bucky #fuckboy!bucky #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #thin walls thin lines au

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semiotextiana · 7 months

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I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them. Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer, not a very popular one. I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky... that I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is. When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I had been living, they asked me why, but there’s no use in talking to people who have a home. They have no idea what it's like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lie your head. I was always an unusual girl. My mother told me that I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality, just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. And if I said I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying. Because I was born to be the other woman. Who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone. Who had nothing, who wanted everything. With a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me. Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people, and finally I did, on the open road. We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore. Except to make our lives into a work of art. Live fast, die young, be wild, and have fun. I believe in the country America used to be. I believe in the person I want to become. I believe in the freedom of the open road. And my motto is the same as ever: I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I'm at war with myself I ride... I just ride. Who are you? Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies? Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them? I have. I am fucking crazy. But I am free.

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youngestdaughtersyndrome · 7 months

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i mean honestly? i was in the winter of my life, and the men i met along the road were my only summer. at night i fell asleep with visions of myself, dancing and laughing and crying with them. three years down the line of being on an endless world tour, and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. i was a singer - not a very popular one, i once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that i wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken. but i didn't really mind because i knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is. when the people i used to know found out what i had been doing, how i'd been living, they asked me why - but there's no use in talking to people who have home. they have no idea what it's like to seek safety in other people - for home to be wherever you lay your head. i was always an unusual girl. my mother told me i had a chameleon soul, no moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality; just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. and if i said i didn't plan for it to turn out this way i'd be lying because i was born to be the other woman who belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone, who had nothing, who wanted everything, with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that i couldn't even talk about it, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me. every night i used to pray that i'd find my people, and finally i did on the open road. we had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore, except to make our lives into a work of art. live fast. die young. be wild. and have fun. i believe in the country america used to be. i believe in the person i want to become. i believe in the freedom of the open road. and my motto is the same as ever: "i believe in the kindness of strangers. and when i'm at war with myself, i ride. i just ride." who are you? are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies? have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them? i have. i am fucking crazy. but i am free.

#hollyws

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tickles-tea · 4 months

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Testing Virtues

I know I’m cutting it extremely close but the day isn’t over yet! Anyway, without further ado, merry belated Christmas to @happyandticklish !! In a very funny turn of events, I ended up being your secret Santa for Squealing Santa 2023 ^^ I hope you enjoy this fic of Izaya fucking around and finding out ~ Also, a big thank you to @hypahticklish / @squealing-santa for hosting the event!!

Summary: After realizing that Shizuo is in a rather affectionate mood, Izaya decides to put his patience to the test. Word count: 2.8k

Shizuo Heiwajima could be a difficult man to read.

Despite how clearly he expressed his rage, it could be tricky to read between the lines of his surprisingly aloof resting face. Whether he was perfectly content or one second away from snapping, one could never guess.

At least, that’s what Izaya used to think.

After what he would reluctantly call ‘dating’ the man for several years now, Izaya could decipher his expressions with the ease of someone who had dedicated their life to the art. These little tells were so clear to him now, he couldn’t believe that he’d been completely oblivious to them in the past.

Like how Shizuo’s honey-gold eyes would light up with a childlike spark whenever they’d pass by a pastry shop. His lips were unmoving but his desires were spoken loud and clear. It was without a word from Shizuo that Izaya would lead them into the shop with teases already loaded on his tongue.

And when Shizuo’s shoulders hunched tight with tension-the line of them more solid than the stop signs he crushed beneath his fists- Izaya knew to keep his jabs light but deliberate. It was a bit of a balancing act, teetering between slightly bothersome and truly irritating. However, it was worth watching that harsh line ease whenever a particularly crude quip caught Shizuo off guard enough to make him laugh.

Izaya could always tell what Shizuo was feeling or wanting or needing.

But he wasn’t always generous enough to give it to him. Not without making him put in the work first.

When Izaya awoke to warm kisses being pressed to his neck and fingers creeping up his shirt with fluttery touches, he knew what kind of day it would be.

It was the hesitation that gave it away, really; the slow progression, as if waiting for permission when they were both far past the point of being shy.

This particular mood didn’t strike Shizuo often, but it was always fun when it did.

Izaya did nothing to dissuade him, and Shizuo’s touches grew more deliberate with increasing confidence the longer Izaya didn’t protest. A grin pulled at Izaya’s lips, but it had little to do with the hands that lightly tickled at his waist. Because as soon as it started, Izaya was sitting up and away, stretching his arms above his head with a groan. He turned to look down at his bed partner with a sleep-heavy smirk. “It’s not like Shizu-chan to be up so early. I don’t suppose you wanted to join in on my meeting this morning?”

Shizuo blinked away the drowsy confusion at the abrupt shift, now scrunching his nose with distaste as he registered Izaya’s words. “Don’t say stupid things…” He grumbled, a frustrated crease in his brow. He waited for a beat, and when Izaya only stared back at him with a knowing smile, he clicked his tongue in annoyance. “Can’t you stay in bed a little longer? I thought you said that wasn’t until ten.”

Even though Izaya was sure it was meant to be a frown, the unhappy twist of Shizuo’s lips could only be described as a pout.

“The early bird gets the worm and all that. We can't all afford to sleep in, you know?” Izaya chirped back, keeping the banter light despite the intentions already solidifying in his mind. “If you want to stay in bed though, be my guest. I can wake you up once my client’s gone.”

It was a simple offer but Shizuo still took his time answering. He looked at Izaya for a long few moments, lips pursed on indecision and his hands still resting idle on Izaya’s waist, before he let out a resigned breath through his nose and pulled his hands away. “Mm, yeah, that’s fine.”

And though he nuzzled back into the pillow and closed his eyes without any more complaints, Izaya didn’t miss the way his restless hands twitched with restraint.

True to his word, Izaya woke Shizuo up a few hours later once his client had left with a heavier heart and lighter pockets. He hadn’t spared too much time on the task of waking him; only ducking into the bedroom with a drawled out “Shizuuuu-chaaan~” and tossing an apple at his head when he didn’t stir. It wasn’t the first time he’d done it and it wouldn’t be the last, but Izaya still couldn’t help but snicker when Shizuo exited the room a few minutes later with the half eaten apple in hand.

Izaya watched as Shizuo finished it off in a few bites and threw away the core before immediately making his way over to Izaya’s desk. Strong arms wrapped around his waist from behind as Shizuo leaned in to kiss the crook of his neck. “Good mornin’,” he rumbled, breath hot against Izaya’s skin.

“It’s noon, Shizu-chan.”

Shizuo grumbled in mild annoyance. “Then good afternoon, you pest.”

He squeezed Izaya slightly to punctuate his words. However, his groused frustration was countered by those gentle fingers tapping at Izaya’s sides again. And just as before, they were light, questioning. “You busy?”

Not even the rough edge of sleep still clinging to his voice could conceal the quiet hopefulness behind his words.

He ghosted fluttery kisses along the line of Izaya’s throat to spread goosebumps across his skin- once again testing the waters.

And once again Izaya grinned.

“Oh~ What’s this? Did Shizu-chan need me for something?” Izaya questioned in a playful drawl, tensing beneath Shizuo’s touch. He traced mindless shapes on Izaya’s sides, veering closer to his belly to scrape the ghost of his fingernails over the sensitive skin. It took an impressive amount of restraint for Izaya to not react to the ticklish shivers that ran through his nerves.

“Izaya…” he started, shifting to murmur into Izaya’s ear to make him twitch. “C-“

He barely had a second to begin before Izaya was interrupting to answer his own question.

“-because I’m afraid I don’t have time to spare right now,” he clarified, spinning in his chair to face him and knocking his hands away in the process. The sigh in his voice was just subtle enough to pass as truly apologetic. At least somewhat. “Can it wait?”

Tipping his head up to meet Shizuo’s eyes, Izaya was met with an expression he knew well. Thick brows furrowed on growing frustration and a troubled twist to his lips because he couldn’t find a reason to be truly upset. A rarity for Shizuo, but even he could respect when someone was busy.

He didn’t need to know that Izaya had just been playing sudoku before he walked in. It was his fault, really, for being fooled by the random document Izaya had pulled up at the last second.

With another one of those pouty scowls, Shizuo gently knocked his forehead against Izaya’s.

“Later.”

It was a question despite bearing the bluntness of a statement.

“Later~”

Judging by the restless padding of feet across the hardwood floor and the too long-stares sent his way, Izaya knew that ‘later’ couldn’t come soon enough for Shizuo.

He wasn’t exactly known for his patience and Izaya hadn’t exactly been making it easier on him. But that’s what was fun about these kinds of days, and who could blame him when Shizuo had such entertaining reactions?

It was amusing to watch Shizuo clench his fists at his sides when Izaya stretched, raising his arms high above his head with a pleased groan as if he was oblivious to Shizuo’s plight.

He’d nearly choked on his glass of milk when Izaya reached for a book on a high shelf, which caused his shirt -untucked for once- to raise and reveal a sliver of his belly. When Izaya had turned to look at him, Shizuo was staring resolutely at the ceiling as he chugged the rest of the glass.

It was terribly endearing when Shizuo thought he was being discreet. However, there was nothing subtle about how tightly his jaw was clenched when Izaya had him fetch a glass of water for the ‘tickle in his throat’.

Perhaps Izaya would feel more guilty about riling Shizuo up when he was asking for what he wanted so sweetly, but it was just too easy.

Izaya was an opportunist at heart, after all.

This secret game of his continued for another two hours, with Izaya coming up with new and subtle ways to drive Shizuo mad. Izaya was honestly impressed with how well Shizuo was holding up, but all things must come to an end, and Shizuo’s streak of patience was no exception.

His breaking point came when Izaya settled into his chair, picked up a stack of documents, and kicked his feet up onto the desk. It must have been that it was so uncharacteristic of Izaya to ‘rest’ in such a vulnerable position that Shizuo was tipped off to Izaya’s scheming. Or perhaps it was pure coincidence that his fuse happened to burn out at that moment. Either way, Izaya wasn’t too upset when Shizuo shot up from the couch and stomped over to his desk with red-tipped ears and a snarl.

“Oi, what’s up with that pose, huh?” Shizuo growled, leaning far over the desk to meet Izaya face to face. His arms were tense with restless energy where they held his weight against the desk, bracing on either side of Izaya’s legs.

Izaya smiled pleasantly at him. “Hm? Aren’t I allowed to be comfortable while I work?”

Shizuo glared down at him- and if looks could kill, Izaya would be six feet under.

“You look a little too comfortable, if you ask me. Just how busy have you been, really?”

A strong hand wrapped around one of his ankles, and Izaya had to resist the urge to jerk his foot back on instinct. “Quite busy. You see, today I’m conducting an observational experiment of sorts. I suppose you could call it testing a beast’s ability to restrain itself and its needs in the face of temptation. Riveting stuff~”

Shizuo bared his teeth in an animalistic grin that sent a shiver of premonition down Izaya’s spine. “Oh yeah? What conclusion have you come to?” The grip tightening around Izaya’s ankle might as well have been squeezing his lungs for how it caused his breath to falter in his chest.

“That even beasts can possess an impressive level of patience and willpower, but even so, that control is temporary, and eventually they succumb to their urges. It’s in their nature, after all,” Izaya challenged with a smirk. However, his confidence couldn’t hide the way his hands clutched the arms of his chair in anticipation.

His heart was starting to thrum in his chest; because behind the irritation in Shizuo’s gaze, there was a certain glint in his eyes. Now that Shizuo knew of Izaya’s game, he was ready to play.

Just the thought was enough to set off the butterflies in Izaya’s stomach.

“I see. If giving in is inevitable, why hold back at all then, right?” Shizuo gave him little warning before he was tugging at Izaya’s ankle to pull him closer and yanking him up by his shirt. Izaya yelped, trying not to knock over his monitors in his scramble for balance as he was pulled over and across the desk. He only had a second to be relieved that everything was intact before he was tossed over Shizuo’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

Despite knowing that struggling was futile, Izaya fisted his hands in Shizuo’s shirt for stability and tried his best to kick at Shizuo’s thighs. If he felt the hits, he certainly didn’t show it. “Wait a second! What kind of brainless logic is that?!” He shouted, trying to twist his head around to see where he was being taken. He had an idea, and a turn towards the staircase confirmed it.

“Are you sure you should be mouthing off like that? Ah, but maybe you don't care since you’ve been asking for it all day,” Shizuo almost murmured to himself, his anger having faded to an infuriating breeziness.

Izaya’s cheeks flushed despite the absolute ridiculousness of that statement. “Me? Have you forgotten how many times you-!” His words were interrupted by a yelp when Shizuo gave a warning squeeze to his thigh.

“Shut up.”

Any further protests from Izaya were met with more squeezes to his thighs, each one making him jump more than the last. Shizuo knew very well how sensitive his thighs were, and he was giving Izaya this chance to back down before he used that information against him. And while Izaya was not the kind of man to give up, every once in a while he could accept when he needed to concede.

He had been orchestrating the setlist all day after all, and now it was time to face the choir.

He wasn’t, however, expecting to be part of it, and the pitch his voice reached could put the star sopranos to shame.

“Nahahaha! Shizu-chahahaha-!” His voice cracked on a cackle as Shizuo drilled his thumbs mercilessly into his hips. Upon entering their bedroom, Shizuo had wasted no time in tossing Izaya on the bed and relinquishing the control he’d been holding onto for the past few hours. And he seemed to be making up for the lost time if his zealous start was anything to go by.

Izaya shook his head back and forth, frantically trying to pry Shizuo’s hands off of his waist, but there was no give to his iron grip. Izaya couldn’t help but wonder which would be easier to free yourself from: a bear trap or Shizuo’s merciless hold.

He quickly settled on the bear trap when Shizuo began kneading at his lower belly, sending sparks of sensitivity crackling across his nerves. “AH! Shit! Stahahahap, you beheheheast!” Izaya threw his head back on shrill laughter, his legs kicking wildly behind him in a stark contrast to Shizuo’s smug composure.

“What do you mean ‘stop’? You were showing off this spot earlier, weren’t you? You think I’m too stupid to notice you untucked your shirt before you stood up?” Shizuo drawled with a satisfied smirk. He suddenly switched from kneading to scratching lightly at Izaya’s belly to pull frenzied giggles from his lips. “It was like you were saying ‘please, please, please, tickle me here’.”

Izaya’s face lit up with a brilliant red flush at the realization. In teasing Shizuo over how much he wanted to get his hands on Izaya and tickle him to tears, Izaya had practically been asking for it the entire time without shame. What was even more mortifying was how-underneath the amusement at Shizuo’s struggle-he’d been just as eager for Shizuo to break.

He’d choke to death on his own laughter before he ever admitted that though.

“D-don’t blame me for your lack of self-control!” He scolded before falling into a fit of giggles when fingers skittered along his waistline. “Ehehehe! Wait, wait, wait!”

His eyes widened into saucers when Shizuo suddenly caught his hands and pinned them above his head, learned anticipation thudding his heart against his chest.

“You were showing off this spot too, weren’t you?” Shizuo asked casually, impervious to the way Izaya tugged at his wrists like his life depended on it. “Can’t be helped then.” He followed his words with a shrug before spidering his fingers under Izaya’s arm with a practiced skill.

The response was instantaneous; Izaya shrieked, arching his back in a desperate attempt to protect himself and failing to gain any reprieve. Shizuo knew all of the ways to drive Izaya up the wall and he wasn’t afraid to utilize them now. He was surprisingly thorough in moments like these- taking the time to try everything from rubbing his thumbs into the dip of Izaya’s underarms to lightly scritching at his biceps.

The latter had seemed merciful at first, as Izaya’s biceps weren’t normally that ticklish. He quickly learned that wasn’t the case, though, when Shizuo lingered there long enough for the sensation to become absolutely maddening.

It took an embarrassingly long time for Izaya to find his words again, but of course he found a way to talk through the flood of mirth.

“Ahahaha! D-don’t try to act like this isn’t-“ his words were interrupted by a loud bark of laughter when suddenly Shizuo pinched at his upper ribs. “Like this isn’t whahahat you’ve been begging for all day!”

That seemed to finally get under Shizuo’s skin enough for him to scowl and lean in close. If Shizuo had to fight to keep that scowl from twitching up at the corners, neither of them mentioned it.

“Well, if this is what we both wanted, I guess I should go all out right?”

A shiver ran down Izaya’s back, and despite the squeals and protests that soon echoed through the apartment, Izaya couldn’t say that he minded it all that much. He could handle the fingers dancing along his skin, no longer restless now that they were focused on the goal of making him wheeze out desperate laughter. He could handle the lips pressing sweetly against his own, turning that same laughter muffled and breathless.

Shizuo had earned this fair and square, and in a way, so had Izaya.

Now all that was left was to enjoy the fruits of their labor.

#Shoutout to my fourth grade teacher for drilling into me that patience is a virtue - it came in clutch for the title lmao #God i hope this turned out alright orz please know that I did my best #durarara #izaya orihara #shizuo heiwajima #tickling #ticklish!izaya #shizaya #my writing #squealing santa 2k23 #Also if there’s any mistakes I’m so fucking sorry afsjhfdjs it’s about to be 6 am and I am ✨Fighting for My Life✨#squealing santa 2023

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bullet-prooflove · 2 months

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LA!Series Part Three: Legacy - Manny x Reader

Tagging: @wnbweasley @darqchilddaydreamz @theesirenteller @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx

Manny’s adjusting the sleeves of his suit jacket when you step out of the bathroom, he looks up and it’s like someone has stolen all of the oxygen from his lungs. You’re clad in a sleeveless mini dress, adorned with a black and white Aztec pattern, the tattoos that decorate your arms on display. You’ve paired it with Black Doc Martens and a black leather jacket that clings to your form.

His thumb runs over the silver studs in your ear, the first a set of stars, the rest three tiny pin drops that decrease in size the higher they go.

“Very pretty.” He says, feeling something stir inside of him.

The whole thing is just so unapologetically you.

It’s outside the gallery that you falter, you step up to the door, your gaze lingering on the people on the other side and you just stop. His hand comes to rest on your lower back, his thumb tracing a soothing circle as your hand grasps the door handle.

“We don’t have to do this.” He says quietly.

You tilt your head towards him, your kohl lined eyes meeting his. He sees the trepidation in them, the indecision. This is a crossroads for you, you can either step forward and tell your story or you can run, the same way you have been since you were eighteen years old and newly turned out from the care system. Your grip on the handle tightens before you take a deep breath, allowing the oxygen to flood your lungs and walk inside.

You’re a hit, Manny knew you would be. He smiles, watching from a distance and sipping from a flute of Prosecco as you talk to a group of young people who accosted you on the way back from the bathroom. They’re just like you, he thinks creatives in the making. They show you their work, explaining the concepts and you take such interest, asking questions, pointing out the features you like.

In that moment he understands what it would be like to be loved by you, and he realises how much he wants that.

His attention wanders and he finds himself in front of your photographs. They’ve got a lot of attention tonight, people in the industry, alternatives, kids from the programs the studio hosts. He stands in a rare moment of quietness surveying them.

There’s a rawness in the images, it brings out the depth of the art styles, the reverence behind each and every one of them. There’s such beauty in these pieces. They all capture a moment, a snapshot in time where the past and the present merge together. Old techniques and new ink, clashing to create something real, something visceral.

This is your legacy, this passion project of yours.

This is you in all of your glory.

He sees it as clear as day.

When he looks at you again, it’s in a different light because you’re far more to him than just the woman he fucks. You’re the one that owns a piece of him.

When you’re asked to speak, he can tell you don’t expect it. A microphone is thrust into your hand, and you take up residence alongside your artwork, your gaze lingering over each of the images before you turn your attention to the small crowd. You clear your throat before your eyes come to rest on the kid in front of you, the one that’s been vying for your attention all night.

“People don’t realise how lonely it is being in foster care.” You find yourself saying. “How isolated you become, you feel like you don’t have anything to say and when you do, it feels like no one’s listening. For me photography became a way of expressing myself when I couldn’t use my voice. My pictures showed the world how I saw it when I couldn’t speak the words.”

You think of the feel of the camera in your hands, the way things just clicked into place for you. It was a polaroid; you remember the whir as the picture was spat out of that tiny slot. You were fifteen years old at the time.

“There weren’t art programs like this when I was in care, I stole my first camera from a guy who was paying me to model for him…” You trail off and there’s an agony in Manny’s chest because he knows the kind of shoots you’re talking about, how they start and how they finish. He wishes that hadn’t happened to you, that none of this had happened to you but that’s not your reality, it’s not his either. “I’m thankful that things have changed, that there are programs to assist young people who have faced the same things that I did. I hope that seeing my work shows you that there are opportunities for you out there, that your past doesn’t have to shape who you become.”

He's there when you hand the microphone back to the host. You come to stand beside him, your spine straight and your head held high. You’re withdrawing back into yourself, shutting him out, Manny can feel it. This is the most real you’ve been with anybody, and it takes courage to do what you’ve just done, to speak your truth.

“I’m proud of you Mami.” He says, his fingers seeking out yours. He squeezes your hand lightly and you squeeze back. “I think you’ve made a difference here tonight.”

Love Manny? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#manny #manny montana #manny x reader #manny x you #manny mayans #mayans mc

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paynomindtotheinsanity · 25 days

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I love your art so much, you’re part of the reason I started drawing again. Your old art is cool, and your new art just has so much emotion and detail in it, it deserves so much praise. Do you have any advice on how you upskilled so well into the amazing art you do today? I really want to learn to be skilled like you are and improve to your level

Dude, thank you so much. I'm super flattered but also have major Impostor Syndrome right now lol.

The biggest thing that helped me was getting a drawing tablet and learning how to use digital art programs like Canvas or Procreate. I am a very messy artist - my traditional sketchbooks were always a nightmare because of how often I erase shit, so being able to use programs where I can simply undo or reposition a line was a game-changer.

I'm also incredibly indecisive and struggle with linework, but I found some great brushes that mimic the effects of ink pens and watercolor so I can achieve the messy, painted look. (This Sketchbook set and lineart set are the two I use the most)

Use as many references as you need! Gather a bunch of base poses to get the hang of proportions and anatomy (my go-to artist is Mellon_Soup. Screenshots from movies and shows work great too)

Try out posing tools like this one

A fun exercise that helps me is to paste a photo or drawing on one layer, and then on the layer above, sketch the main aspects in 30 seconds. Delete the first layer and then work solely off of the sketch (and yes it will absolutely look spooky and/or silly). If you need more time at first, start with 60 seconds and work your way down as you get the hang of it:

Take pictures of yourself in the poses you want to draw

Find artists with a style that resonates with you and study their work

The Multiply tool on Procreate is AMAZING for adding depth to artwork. I use this on almost everything. Add a slightly darker color on top of the whole set of layers, switch it to Multiply, and then go in with the eraser to mark the areas where the light hits

Keep practicing, no matter how shitty you think it looks! Just keep going!!

Uh I think that's it? I'll add more if I remember anything else.

I wish you the best of luck on your art journey! <3

#art tips #I'm not qualified but here you go lol #thank you so much

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caffichai · 8 months

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could i ask what program you use? your art is so gorgeous!

Yes, certainly! And thank you very much!

For pixel art, I use Medibang Paint to draw/color. I just turn of anti-aliasing and use the normal pen brush with pressure (usually 1.5px for line art and 4 or 5px for coloring). Only reason I use it is cause it's pretty hassle free and straightforward. I find it awful to use for actual painting though.

For "painterly" pieces, I used to use Procreate, and now I use Infinite Painter (I sold my iPad and got a Tab S7+, I like it a lot better). The two programs are extremely similar, though infinite painter has nicer hand gestures. I just use a pencil or pen brush for line art, and a square-ish brush for painting. Sometimes I use the "blend" setting on the paint brush, sometimes not. (I know you didn't ask, but a matte screen protector and metal pen tip feel incredibly nice to draw with!)

After the drawing is done, I edit it using Snapseed. I think balancing light/colours after drawing sometimes makes a huge difference in making a dull picture look way nicer. Because I'm indecisive, I often make a few versions and do another pass over in medibang/infinite painter, and then post whichever version I'm feeling after!

#Sometimes I photobash the backgrounds using any program then filter/edit/modify it and paint over it. It helps add details/noise that I like #The photos kind of give an idea of the space and add texture that I have a hard time painting manually! The collages are quite messy though #I'm not formally trained and don't consider myself a professional #The actual process of drawing is pretty random every time and I kind of just wing a lot of stuff :P

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rottmntsimp · 4 months

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hello!! i was wondering if i could get a ROTTMNT character match up (when ur free and got the time!!)??

i go by many many online names, but usually i stick with sandra! i'm southeast asian, 5'2, and gender non conforming. i got black hair that's in a medium-length butterfly haircut and i usually dress up in a soft-grunge style (i don't have a specific style in reality, too indecisive for that rip).

i have audhd, and find it hard to open up to people. when i have an interest, it's usually really intense! marine biology, certain video game franchises, tv shows, music, the arts—i'm super passionate about all of them and find myself infodumping if i dont catch myself. i keep to myself the majority of the time, but when i open up to people that i believe i can trust, i'm usually described as energetic and very active!

dancing, singing, playing music, and drawing are my main go-to hobbies. especially music—i know how to play the piano, violin, cello, bass, and guitar! the last two are self-taught, but i got a few years under my belt :D

i'm an esfp, and i love listening to people talk about their passions and their love for whatever it is. i'm dramatic and love doing things for shits and giggles (for the plot yk), but i'm bad at recognising and understanding other people's feelings at times. i'm horrendous at comforting others and i can not read between the lines for the life of me.

so sorry for typing so much!! i wanted to make sure u had good material to work with 🤲

i hope you have a wonderful day evening or night !!!

—🌷 anon <33

Hey Sandra! As you didn't state a preference for your partner, I'm going to assume that either any is fine!

Also genuine question, should I add my taglist on these?

Don't ask how but I can see myself shipping you with April!

💚 - When it comes to dressing up, let's be honest, April could probably rock anything [much like I bet you do!]

💚 - So please for the love of god, let her borrow your clothes. She may not ask for it much, but if you're cool with it she is burrowing herself into your clothes-

💚 - Height-wise, I'd say 5'2" is pretty average, but compared to April, oh boy-

💚 - Her canonical height is 4'8", but let's give her a few inches out of pity, and make her around 5'0"...yeah no she's still short.

💚 - If it takes time for you to open up to people, don't worry! She'll be there, waiting and by your side the whole time.

💚 - As for special interests, if you happen to like a video game she has, she'll definitely let you borrow it. Hell, you guys can play together, maybe even infodump!

💚 - ^^ She'll probably sit there, head propped up in her hand, smiling at you softly.

💚 - Now, as for music, I'm sorry if this is just me projecting, but music players,,,

💚 - Would probably swoon if you ever wrote her a song, or even played for her.

💚 - Would probably ask you to teach her a few things, even if it's just the basics.

💚 - You're both extroverted so expect more outdoorsy dates! Amusement parks, bowling, arcades, whatever your heart desires, it shall get!

💚 - Now, as a fellow ✨THEATER KID✨ if you're demiromantic, aro-spec, or just more of a friends to lovers kinda person, depending on how long you've known each other, and if she can trust you to keep a secret, she might introduce you to Donnie, and maybe even the other turtles.

💚 - Pass the vibe check, please, because if her brothers friends don't like you, I'm sorry but you're gonna have to go-

💚 - Now, if you do vibe with them, especially Donnie, maybe, just maybe, you might get an invite to become an official member of the DPFL [Dorky Pals For Life] club.

💚 - Being unable to comfort April on a bad day might lead to an awkward gap between you two at times, but if you two can talk it out, you'll be just fine!

💚 - As for reading between the lines, if you're unable to read a room, or understand a joke, or just something someone said, she'd got you covered <3

I hope you liked it! <33

#🌷 anon #rottmnt #save rottmnt #rottmnt x reader #simps fics #character matchup #rise april x reader #rottmnt april x reader #2018 april x reader #tmnt x reader #april o neil #april o neil x reader

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mionakt · 1 year

Text

I was in the winter of my life And the men I met along the road were my only summer At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me And my only real happy times

I was a singer Not a very popular one I once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet But upon an unfortunate series of events saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky That I wished on over and over again, sparkling and broken But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is

When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing how I had been living, they asked me why, but there’s no use in talking to people who have a home They have no idea what its like to seek safety in other people For home to be wherever you lie your head

I was always an unusual girl My mother told me that I had a chameleon soul No moral compass pointing due north No fixed personality Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean And if I said I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way I’d be lying

Because I was born to be the other woman Who belonged to no one Who belonged to everyone Who had nothing Who wanted everything With a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about it And pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people And finally I did On the open road We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore Except to make our lives into a work of art

Live fast Die young Be wild And have fun

I believe in the country America used to be I believe in the person I want to become I believe in the freedom of the open road And my motto is the same as ever "I believe in the kindness of strangers"

And when I'm at war with myself I ride I just ride

Who are you? Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies? Have you created a life for yourself where you can experience them?

I have I am fucking crazy But I am free

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plasmasimagination · 5 months

Note

Hi hi! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

I know ur inbox is probably stuffed with match up requests but if u have the time could u do me?

You can do characters from either genshin or hsr, I don’t mind either! Whatever you feel like

I have no preference when it comes to the gender of the character

Im agender and don’t care abt what pronouns I’m referred to as. I think I’m a infj and a Leo (I haven’t don’t deep research into both topics)

Ngl I have a hard time describing my personality (╥﹏╥) I’m a very indecisive person, but once I start doing something I’m determined to finish it. I can be an airhead at times and very forgetful

I like art, music, games and history. Ive also very intrigued recently with AI and how it works. I get distracted really easily and do deep dives into whatever peeked my interest.

I dislike loud people and ppl who have a temper. Although I would love to go on an amusement park date or something along the lines of that, crowded places with lots of people drain my energy

Alone time is very important to me!! I also really value comfortable silence. My love language (on the receiving end) would probably be acts of service or quality time, but any work with me tbh. On the giving end I love to give gifts. I often catch myself being a hopeless romantic and make up fake scenarios often ૮ • ﻌ - ა . My dream would be to travel the world with my s/o and a pet

I don’t have a type but I do love animals, so I’d prefer if my s/o would be chill with them

I hope this is enough info. Or not too much!! If you feel uncomfortable or ur having a hard time deciding a s/o feel free to skip this request. Thank you for ur time!! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

SWEEEETIEEEE HAIIヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ •

A/n- oh if you only knew, i have so much requests in my inbox and I want to finish them till new years but it's killing me because they just keep coming everyday, but I'm not complaining I love all of my darlings a lot 🫂

Nevermind that, I already have someone in mind for you , so here is your matchup-

DAN HENG

Introvert x introvert

I paired you up with Dan Heng because I think he's a perfect match literally

Most of the times you guys are together, it's just sitting in the same room, each doing their own thing,not talking, just sitting in that comfortable silence enjoying each others comapny

Also your love languages align, he's very much a quality time and acts of service person, he prefers spending time and chatting with you over anything

Also expect small massages from time to time, or a small Portion of food made only for you

He's also very interested in history, and aswell in AI and generally technology, so you guys can talk about it a whole bunch and exchange thoughts.

when you're working on something important and get distracted, don't worry Dan Heng is there to get you back on track, he's very thoughtful for that

As for your animal concern, dont worry, aslong as it's like not a tiger or something he's chill with it

Especially with cats, he's a big cats person.

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lesbianjudasiscariot · 7 months

Text

my child is three days old and their first words were "I was in the winter of my life, and the men I met along the road were my only summer. At night I fell asleep with visions of myself dancing and laughing and crying with them. Three years down the line of being on an endless world tour and my memories of them were the only things that sustained me, and my only real happy times. I was a singer, not a very popular one, who once had dreams of becoming a beautiful poet, but upon an unfortunate series of events, saw those dreams dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky that I wished on over and over again sparkling and broken. But I didn’t really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted and then losing it to know what true freedom is. When the people I used to know found out what I had been doing, how I had been living, they asked me why. But there’s no use in talking to people who have a home, they have no idea what it’s like to seek safety in other people, for home to be wherever you lie your head. I was always an unusual girl, my mother told me I had a chameleon soul. No moral compass pointing due north, no fixed personality. Just an inner indecisiveness that was as wide and as wavering as the ocean. And if I said that I didn’t plan for it to turn out this way, I’d be lying, because I was born to be the other woman. I belonged to no one, who belonged to everyone, who had nothing, who wanted everything with a fire for every experience and an obsession for freedom that terrified me to the point that I couldn’t even talk about, and pushed me to a nomadic point of madness that both dazzled and dizzied me. Every night I used to pray that I’d find my people, and finally I did, on the open road. We had nothing to lose, nothing to gain, nothing we desired anymore, except to make our lives a work of art. Live fast. Die Young. Be Wild. And Have Fun. I believe in the country America used to be. I believe in the person I want to become. I believe in the freedom of the open road. And my motto is the same as ever —I believe in the kindness of strangers. And when I’m at war with myself, I ride. I just ride. Who are you? Are you in touch with all of your darkest fantasies? Have you created a life for yourself where you’re free to experience them? I have. I am fucking crazy. But I am free."

#ldr #♡

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nitunio · 6 days

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7, 10, and 15!

THAJNKK YOU !!! FOR THE ! ASK ! INTERESTING STUFF..

its gonna b a bit long so i put it under a cut hohoho :)

7- Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.

I either don't remember if i posted or didn't post because it;s cringe or art study/warmup. like for example this is a warmup

and this ones cringe because i used the colour palette in a way that is no longer appealing to me and i keep chewing on wires over how bad it came out

10- What do you like most about your art?

I LOVE MY LINEART. I've been building my art foundation on the idea of lineart > anything else, and the structure, the texture, the variety and the flow are my bread and butter

Sometimes I get upset when I can't get a thing right after my first attempt or require many lines when I sketch because it goes against my whole notion of "less is more" . Because to me my overly messy unreadable sketches are the indecisive, directionless things I made that amount to no beauty

I also love my lineart that is very tiny, and my lineart that is large, because when I lineart I can express and I can show people where to look, where to linger, where I messed up, where I clearly spent more time than average.

15- What do you like drawing the least?

Process-wise I hate colouring but I think this question is about themes/subjects/etc??? So,

I hate tiny details on outfits. Sure they're fun to lineart but the begrudging realisation that after the lineart I'll have to spend at least 2-3 hours eyedropping and colouring it in I start dying inside a little bit. It pays off because it looks absolutely amazing but also. fuck!!! It's rotten work I'll do it but christ alive

I also dislike foliage and nature in general because of how easy it is to mess it up. One wrong stroke and you're done - it's not a bush it's a pile of green slime

and that;s about it!!! Sometimes I don't like drawing many other things but these two are up there ^__^

Thaaaanks for letting me ramble!!!!

#nitunio.txt #thxxxx for the ask!!!!#ask games

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arainmorn-art · 27 days

Text

youtube

Ooooooh gosh. Watching Enola Holmes now. I'm only on the first hour, ugh. Right after THIS SCENE. It was so cringy and laughable I can't. This scene is a pure mindless power fantasy. I'm trying to tell myself that it's just a movie for teenage girls, I shouldn't be nitpicky, the tone of the movie is not serious... but I'm reading the Youtube comments under this video praising the scene and I want to talk about it. I'm a girl, I've been doing martial arts (mixed aikido) for three years and let me tell you this scene was bad. You know... I hoped this movie would be about outwitting your opponents, using your brains as your biggest strengths as a girl in a Victorian era. But whom I was kidding, we have a Netflix girl power movie, so let's get rid of any common sense.

First of all, that man was clearly not trying to kill Enola with those gently tossing and barely punching the air around her he did. One of the first things my sensei and his sensei told me is that no matter are you a man or a woman you have not many chances against a person who really, really wants to kill you. Not just frighten and rob you, kill you. Even very well-trained people now that. And they want to tell us, that a 16 year old girl having just lightly sparring with her suffragette terrorist mom in the garden could stand against an adult hitman? For how long Hollywood and Netflix will tell teenage girls and young women this type of lie? Oh boy. Let's take a look at the Enola's fight. This stunt on 1:30 might look impressive, but it's a garbage. It reminds me of throw from aikido for competions, which is not for real street fights, it's for show, so it makes a good base for stunts.

youtube

Yes, the uke (attacker) clearly knows when and how to jump to minimize the pain when the force is applied to his wrist and elbow joints, but the thing is the seme (defending) applies the force to unbalance the opponent and then throw him (my English is horrendous now, I know). Seme also never gets on his opponent's line of fall, he needs to stay in the control of situation (at least in aikido). But I keep rewatching that moment in the movie and I can't fucking see the moment where Enola would succesfully unbalance her opponent to do this throw. She kicked him with an elbow in his lower ribs, which is not a bad move, but not enough to desorient him with pain or to get him to bend over, it was not a solar plexis. And then SHE FUCKINGS JUMPS. She does a fucking flip with her 40 kilo ass to not only fakely throw him off balance, but to make him jump up and then land neatly past her, not on her, because she literally dives under his falling body with that move. Props to the actor to fall so carefully and not hurting Millie. Ugh.

Second, a man can crush woman's airpipe and skull with his bare hands, and usually easily outrun her. Men generally are stronger and faster. It's just a man design, they are built differently. That's why female and male sport competions are separated. Buuuuuut "Enola Holmes"'s executeves want to tell us, that a half-drowned girl in a dress and a corset was SO fast, that an adult fit man without a dress and a corset had to JUMP to hook her leg with a cane and stop her. Alright, she dodges his next strikes, though honestly I hardly find it believable, but then he takes her and throws against the wall. In such situation an air quickly leaves your lungs and you 're not likely to recover quickly, you also might have a concussion. Besides the drowning that's another point where our heroine could be done. By the way, the drowning was a bit more convincing, but then they pulled that eye-rolling gotcha moment with tricking and winking. It still was possible not because the heroine is smart, but because the attacker was stupid and indecisive. And he keeps being like that. As soon as she was on a ground everything could be finished very fast like in these brutal first seconds from Lucy's video:

youtube

He could kick her in the stomach, in the face, crack her skull with his boot, break her ribs, broken ribs would pop her lungs, there'd be internal bleeding, noone is here to save her - it would be over. And since he also has a knife, oh geeeeeee. Why. Why the killer must be so confused about finding out she wears a corset, when HE IS IN THE RIGHT REACH TO PULL OUT THE KNIFE FROM THE CORSET AND SLIT HER FUCKING THROAT. The adrenaline must be pumping, even a semi-realistic burglar would not wait for Enola to unbotten her dress to show him a corset, for fuck sake. Ah, yeah, if he would be still stupid enough to not slit her throat right away he would say "Thanks for letting me know!" and stabbed her holding the blade vertically, not across.

This scene is not only child-friendly, it is very girl-friendly. Very clean (with a tiny bit of dirt to add some grittiness), very careful so main heroine wouldn't get any hits in the face as the face must stay pretty, very naive as if her fight mistakes, which were praised for making the fight more realistic and the character not Mary Sue, would not be deadly to her and also if the killer was not hardly dumbed and slowed down, oooh, with a little bit of pain on the actress face so you could worry for her and all this jazz. And gooooooooooooooooooosh how cocky Enola is here it's infuriating. At the end of this scene she was not outsmarting her attacker, it was a very dumb luck that he threw her in the barn with explosives. Honestly, to make this scene both more realistic and smart they should have create a thriller Alien-like scene where the protagonist must use her wit and knowledge (which are so often mentioned in this movie) to actually outsmart the hitman. What about her knowledge in chemistry? Or for Netflix writers it is only "Ha-ha, nerds do boom-boom with chemicals!"? Fine, do something more with explosives. Do something with her knowledge in physics. Do something other than using brute force! Because you clearly can't do it too!

Ugh, I'm tired and frustrated now. And I can't imagine why would they call her Sherlock's sister aside from marketing reasons. Marketing worked, I'm watching it. I hoped to look at Henry Cavill's Sherlock having Henry's charm and beauty and Holmes's intelligance, but this is not a Sherlock but a random quite dense dude from any other story and there's a microscopic amount of Henry's performance. And nothing of it is smart. A character's intellectual ability is directly related to the intelligence of the writer. And I can firmly say this whole mess is a popcorn pew-pew show in Victorian costumes, and not anyhow a Sherlock Holmes story.

Let's move on.

#my post #martial arts #enola holmes #rant post #fighting #melee combat #combat #Youtube

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