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#but this time i actually know how to draw it like i see it in my head so. redraw!
rafesfavgirl · 2 days
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with a broken heart — r. cameron
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part 1. something a little more lighthearted to make up for breaking y'alls hearts :)
series: every few lifetimes
❝ i was grinning like i'm winning  i was hitting my marks 'cause i can do it with a broken heart ❞
pairing: ex-bf!rafe x fem!reader
context: after getting your heart broken, you pack your bags and leave the obx, only to come face to face with rafe again, eight years later.
words: 2.4k+
warnings: rafe and reader are aged up (26/27), old flames, FLUFF
"now remember, this client's a big prospect," your boss says as you follow him out of the office car and into the building you were scoping out today. "i guarantee if you can close this deal, you'll be well on your way to becoming the next junior partner."
"hank, are you serious?" you stop in your tracks and he looks at you. 
when you first left the outer banks for new york, you went to nyu without a clue on what you wanted to do with the rest of your life. somewhere along the way, you graduated magna cum laude and pursued law school at columbia. your first year, hank took you on as an intern, and by the time you graduated, you had a job lined up for you at one of the biggest real estate agencies in the world. and though you knew how well you did your job, becoming junior partner as a second-year associate was way beyond where you thought you'd be—it was nothing short of a dream come true.
"don't think what you've done for this company has been lost on me, y/n," he tells you. "you're an asset. i knew it since that first summer i took you on as an intern."
a smile comes across your lips. "well, i can't disappoint," you say. "let's close this fucking deal."
"that's what i like to hear, come on," he continues leading you through the building, until the two of you reached a tall guy with a buzzcut wearing a navy blue suit scoping out the place.
"mr. cameron," you don't miss the familiar name when you and your boss stop behind him, your breath hitching when the guy turns around to greet you both. "this is-"
"y/n," your name rolls off rafe's tongue the same way it always did, your heart beating so hard you feared it'd jump out of your chest.
hank's eyes shift between the two of you, as he shakes rafe's hand. "you two know each other?"
"yeah," rafe nods, his eyes set on you—he couldn't believe that you were actually standing in front of him. a part of him thought that when you left the obx he'd never see you again. "we uh— we went to high school together."
"well that's wonderful," hank smiles. "no need for the awkward introduction then."
except— it was awkward. you didn't just go to high school together. you fell in love in high school. and two months before you chose to go to nyu, rafe broke your heart.
"y/n here will be the one walking you through the contract, and hopefully setting you up with one of our best architects," hank explains to him, while you continue trying to process the fact that he was actually here.
what were the odds that he was the client you needed to win over in order to make junior partner? 
"so, does that all sound good to you?" you finish going over the contract for the building and look at rafe.
the two of you hovered over a table in the empty space that you'd spread out all the documents on.
"yeah, y/n, it all sounds great." the smile he throws your way makes your stomach turn in the worst way—making you realize that the piece of your heart that never stopped beating for him still existed. "where do i sign?"
"uh— right here," you pick up your pen to draw x's on all the lines he had to sign on, before holding it out to him.
he takes it from you, and you watch as he leans over to sign on each and everyone of them, your eyes trailing over how well his suit fit him.
he must hit the gym at least four times a week, you thought. he's grown quite a bit since you last saw him.
"there you go," rafe hands the pen back out to you, and you take it from him with a smile.
"thank you," you say. "you won't regret it."
"oh, i know," he nods, eyes scanning over your face. "i'd never regret anything that involves you."
you feel the heat rise on your cheeks, but you keep it professional, gathering the files on the table back into your folder. "well then, i'll leave you with the contacts of our architects and if you have any further questions, you can reach out to hank or any of the other executives."
"yeah, okay," he replies, hiding his disappointment in the fact that you didn't tell him to contact you with any questions he may have.
"it was a pleasure doing business with you, mr. cameron," you hold out a hand to him for a handshake and he stares at it for a second, before reluctantly placing his hand in yours.
"it sure was," he smiles. "but you know you can just call me rafe, don't you?"
"this is how i address all my clients," you tell him. "it's just the professional thing to do."
"yeah, yeah, i get it," he nods. "guess i'm just not used to it coming from you."
you crack a smile at his somewhat nervous stance—you weren't used to seeing him this way. "it was nice to see you again, rafe. good luck with everything."
"yeah," he grins. "you too."
you turn to walk away, while rafe stays back, scratching the back of his head in contemplation before calling out to you. "hey y/n?"
"yeah?" you ask, stopping to look at him again.
"you got any plans tonight?"
"rafe, i-"
"oh, come on," he cuts you off, slowly closing the distance between you two. "there's no reason we can't be friends, right?"
wrong—there were many reasons. one being that you spent years piecing yourself back together after he decided to give up on you. 
"let's catch up," he persists, his blue eyes locking with yours. "get a drink with me tonight."
despite your head screaming no, you agree. "one drink," you say, causing a smile to spread across his face. "ten o'clock. meet me at the bar on fifth."
the second you walk into the bar, rafe rises from his stool at the counter and waves you over. he had gotten there 30 minutes early to make sure you weren't left waiting for him—you'd done enough of that.
"hey," he seems nervous when you reach him, wiping his hands on his slacks before reluctantly wrapping his arms around you in a hug.
you resist the urge to giggle—it was kinda entertaining to see this six-foot-two tall man get nervous around you—and briefly return his hug.
"have you been here long?" you ask, taking off your jacket and taking a seat in the empty stool beside him.
"nah, just about five minutes or so," he lies, shrugging and giving you a lopsided smile, as the bartender walks up to greet you both.
"anything i can get you?" she asks, eyes lingering on rafe for a little longer than you.
"just a glass of whiskey for me," rafe tells her. "neat."
"and i'll just have a glass of pinot noir," you say, when the girl turns to look at you. "thank you."
"and you can just put it on this," rafe reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, and you cut in. "rafe, you don't have to-"
"nonsense," he shakes his head at you and slides his black amex across to the bartender. "i invited you out. it's on me."
the bartender picks up his card, and gives him a smile. "rafe cameron. i'll remember that."
subtly, rafe rolls his eyes and you hold back a snicker. "please don't."
the bartender huffs as her eyes shifts between the two of you, but walks away without another word to get your drinks and charge rafe's card.
you kink a brow at him. "you get bartenders flirting with you a lot?"
"i guess it happens every now and then," he shrugs.
"it's definitely the buzz," you tell him, as a different bartender brings over your drinks and hands rafe back his card.
"thank you," he briefly acknowledges him, before turning his attention back on you, an amused smile on his face. "you think?"
"yeah," you nod, bringing your wine glass up to take a sip. "it makes you look older— more mature. it suits you."
he cracks a smile, a small chuckle slipping out from between his lips. "and being a lawyer suits you."
"you really think so?"
"yeah," he nodded, taking a sip of his whiskey. "you looked so cute all dressed up in your little suit," those words make the heat rise on your cheeks, and you hide it with your wine glass. "i've never seen you more in your element. what made you choose law?"
"well…" you trail off, wondering whether or not you should tell him the truth. oh, fuck it. "after we broke up, i found out got into nyu. i was so… mad and hurt over you ending it that i packed my bags and i left, without looking back. during the summers, i stayed here and worked internships with the school just so i'd have an excuse not to go home."
he listened intently, a look of indifference falling across his features. a part of him was hurt at hearing that he'd broken your heart so badly you felt the need to leave, but the other part was proud. you really did that. figured your shit out and made a life for yourself—just like he always knew you would.
"after my second year, i worked an internship with a property management company in brooklyn. we scoped out places all around the city, and i don't know… i kinda just fell in love with it. seeing how happy people got when we'd found them the right apartment or the right space for them to start their business just made me feel really good. so i declared real estate as my major junior year and decided on law school," you continued.
"doll, that's amazing," he smiled, blue eyes twinkling. "which law school did you go to?"
"columbia," you reply, his eyes only widening in amazement. no words could describe the amount of pride in his chest right now. "but enough about me. what about you?"
"oh— uh…" he started and set his whiskey down on the bar. "after you left, i went to rehab. went in and out of that place for about two or three years… i mean, you knew how bad it was— wasn't easy."
you frown upon hearing his struggles with rehab and relapsing, but nod along as he continues.
"been clean for about four years now though," he shrugs, as if it wasn't some big accomplishment.
"rafe, that's amazing," you tell him, setting your glass down on the bar. "good for you."
"i had to," he nodded. "not only for me, but for dad, too. he was starting to talk business and expanding the company, and i just… i couldn't let him down. especially not after i let you down."
you glance down, no longer being able to meet his eyes. you knew that your past together had to come up at one point, you just weren't ready for it. mainly because even after all this time, there was still that little piece of your heart that never stopped belonging to him. it would always be his. "rafe…"
"i hope i'm not being too forward when i ask you this but…" his hand reaches out to touch yours, and you look up at him. "are you seeing anyone?"
"no, i'm not," you shake your head. "after we broke up, i didn't really date much. and even when i did, nothing ever really stuck."
that was enough to have a smile crack across his his, eyes brighter than you'd seen them in a really long time. "guess that makes two of us."
"guess so," you shrug, thoughts running through your mind a hundred times a minute as you try to find a way to change the subject. you weren't ready for where this conversation was about to go. at least, not yet. "but, uh— tell me about cameron development, how's that going?"
he chuckles at your eagerness to change the subject, as you sipped on your wine, but goes with it. he'd break you down again. eventually.
after finishing your drinks at the bar, rafe offered to walk you home since your apartment was only about a block or two away, assuring you that he'd just get a cab back to his hotel afterward.
and while a part of you screamed at you to say no, that little piece of your heart that still beat for him won over, and you agreed.
"well, this is me," you say, stopping in front of your apartment complex and looking at him. "it was really nice to see you, rafe."
"so that's it?" he asks, catching you off guard. "this just ends here?"
he takes a step towards you, making your heart pitter-patter, as his eyes scanned your face.
"rafe-"
"don't you ever wonder…" he cuts you off, his gaze lingering on your lips for just a moment before his eyes shifted to meet yours. "what we could've been? what we could be?"
"i-"
"i know i fucked shit up with you, a'ight?" he said, hand coming up to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.
the gesture threatens to make your eyes flutter close at the feeling of his familiar touch, but you keep your composure.
"i was young and i was stupid, and i thought you deserved better," he continued. "but y/n, there isn't a day that has gone by in the last eight years that you haven't crossed my mind. i think about you all the time, just hoping for the day you'd finally come back to the banks."
your breath hitches at his confession, that tiny piece of your heart that held onto him, growing three sizes.
"i know i don't deserve a second chance, i know that," he told you. "but i'm not the guy i was back in high school. i'm clean now, and i've turned my life around. i can be that guy for you now. the one you needed me to be all those years ago."
"okay," you whisper.
"what?" he musn't have heard you right.
"i'd be lying to myself if i said i haven't thought about you either, rafe," you say.
a small chuckle falls from his lips, which spread into a smile. "seriously?"
you nod. "come pick me up at seven tomorrow. let's give it a chance."
part 3 coming soon!!
i'm rooting for them tbh
reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33
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7ndipity · 2 days
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Mornings/Evenings With Jimin
Jimin x Reader
Summary: just some headcanons and a lil blurb about morning/evening moments w Jimin
Warnings, lil suggestive, not proofread
A/N: Thanks to my lovely Star anon who requested this! It's a lil random, but I hope you'll still like it!
Masterlist
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Mornings with Jimin tend to actually start more in the afternoon, due to his slanted sleep schedule, but they’re still cozy nonetheless.
He’s very slow to wake, burying his face in your back or neck as he clings to sleep for just a little longer.
“Five more minutes.” “You said that fifteen minutes ago.” “I mean it this time.”
Once you get up, he usually follows suit, albeit reluctantly.
He’s basically your shadow for the first little bit, trailing after you to the kitchen to help make breakfast(though he mostly just clings to you and steals part of your coffee)
Most days, when things are more rushed and you’re both just trying to get out the door on time, he makes a point to stop for a few seconds, pulling you to follow suit if he has to, meeting your eyes for a moment before giving you a sweet kiss.
It’s a little thing, but sometimes those ten seconds are the only moments you get to have together during the day, and so he makes sure to never miss them.
Evenings are much slower and quieter, again partly due to how late his schedules tend to be.
A lot of nights, you’re already in bed by the time he gets home, and so he quietly runs through his evening routine before slipping under the covers with you.
On the nights when you’re both still awake and able to spend more time together make him so happy, even if it’s just getting ready for bed together. He loves those quiet little moments with you.
Sleepily brushing your teeth together, him leaning against you when he feels extra tired.
He’s said before that it takes him a while to fall asleep, so I see him really enjoying just laying in bed talking about the day's events with you. Words just flow a lot easier when he’s buried in the pillows with you.
Tbh, his bed is one of his favorite places. He loves any excuse for you to just lay together, talking about anything and everything, without having to worry about work or schedules, just you and him being your most true, relaxed selves.
At the end of the day, nothing else matters to him, so long as he gets to fall asleep next to you.
Jimin nuzzled in close to you as he climbed into bed as quietly as possible, his hands creeping along your curves.
It was well past midnight, the room dimly lit by the bedside lamp you’d left on before falling asleep.
“Y/n.” He whispered, his breath brushing over the exposed skin of your neck, raising goosebumps.
“Chim, quit it, ‘m tired.” You mumbled sleepily, trying feebly to shake his hands off.
“I’m not trying to start anything, Angel, ” He promised, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “I just need my goodnight kiss before I go to sleep.”
If your eyes had been open, you might have rolled them at him. You played along though, rolling over so he could reach your lips more easily, feeling his arms instantly wrap around you tightly.
He quickly connected his mouth to yours, swallowing your quiet squeak of surprise at his intensity, his lips moving slowly but firmly against yours.
You shivered as he slipped one hand beneath the fabric of your pajama top, the cool contrast of his fingers causing goosebumps to raise on your warm skin, the other coming to cradle the back of your head, drawing you closer.
All too soon, he pulled away, staring down at you with dark eyes.
“Better?” You asked, slightly breathless.
“Mmh, thank you.” He hummed, pecking your lips a few more times.
You were acutely aware of his hands still on you, his fingers digging into your side, causing you to squirm slightly beneath him, earning a questioning look from him.
“I thought you said you were tired?” He asked, giving you a knowing smirk.
“Things change.” You replied, pulling him back down to you.
He chuckled against your lips, kissing you for another long moment, before pulling back again.
“It’s late, you need sleep.” He said softly, shifting the two of you to rest more comfortably, pulling you to rest against his chest.
“Tease.” You grumbled, furthering his amusement.
“Love you too.”
Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @comingupwithacoolnameishard
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idyllic-ghost · 2 days
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I've been thinking about woozi aftercare 😫😫 like after an intense session imagine him taking care of you and giving you so many compliments especially if you haven't seen each other in a long time (reader she/her)
ohhh i can see that! i do see him as a very shy person, the type of guy who wouldn't be able to speak his mind in the moment when it comes to love (i do think he's good at communicating love, his songs are his track record, but that he has to sit down and think them over first), but in that moment with so much going on i definitely see it🤭
warnings: not proofed, implied smut, aftercare, MDNI
Your legs are still tangled together, your heavy breaths synchronizing in a harmonious rhythm. He's still inside of you, keeping the close proximity for as long as possible, and your arms are still around his neck - softly playing with his hair. Jihoon lets out a sigh that almost sounds like a whimper as he leans his forehead against yours. The bedsheets are clinging to your sweaty limbs, but you can't bring yourself to start cleaning up.
"Thank you," he whispers before giving you a chaste kiss.
The energy changed in a matter of seconds. Animalistic grunts turned into soft panting, violent movement turned into gentle touches, and the look in his eyes turned from lust to pure love. You had missed this, you had missed him - both of these sides of him. Jihoon had been gone for months on tour, and now he's finally with you again - not just over the phone, or on a face time call, but here with you, in real life.
"Why are you thanking me?" You brush away the hair hanging in front of his face, a playful smile appearing on your lips.
"I don't know..." He huffs and hides his face in the crook of your neck, where he presses a few loving pecks. "You're so beautiful... I just can't believe that you're with me. I've missed you so much."
You wrap your arms tighter around him, the small amount of movement had both of you wincing. He got home two-to-three hours ago, you couldn't quite tell, and the two of you had been at it ever since. It was surprising to see him like this, but you shouldn't be surprised considering the amount of racy photos you had sent him for the past few months. Safe to say, you are more than sensitive right now.
"I've missed you, too," you murmur and then, almost brittle, say, "You don't have to leave soon, do you?"
Jihoon moves to look at you again, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. He reaches out to your face, brushing something off your cheek with his thumb - you don't know if there was something actually there, or if it was an excuse to caress your cheek.
"If you're thinking about that now, I didn't do a good enough job." He frowns, a soft pout forming on his lips - it's been so long since you've seen him act cute.
"I just don't want to fall asleep now if you'll be gone in the morning," you say.
"I won't be gone," he quickly replies. "I'm staying with you- I've taken a few days off."
It's almost cute how much he's trying to reassure you. His flushed face and his messy hair, combined with his wide eyes, makes you laugh - any worry about the next day disappearing completely. Jihoon quiets down and a smile settles on his lips. He presses a final kiss on your cheek before moving to get up.
"I'll clean up, okay? Wait here," he says, as if you're capable to move at all.
"Hurry back," you chirp as you pull the covers tighter around you.
In a matter of seconds, Jihoon comes back with a warm towel to help clean you up. He can't meet your eyes as he brings the towel to your thighs, so different from how he had treated you a few minutes ago. The shyness has apparently not hit him just yet, as he soon crawls back into bed and moves you to lay on his broad chest. One of his hands are on the top of your head, keeping it in the crook of his neck, while the other is on your back - drawing circles on your sensitive skin with his fingers.
"You're so good for me," he says. "I'm sorry for being away so much."
"It's fine," you answer, "as long as I get to experience you like this every time you come back."
"Noted." The chuckle he lets out almost sounds more like a scoff as it is quickly cut off by a yawn.
His fingers subconsciously drum against your back to some unknown melody. You find yourself wanting to ask what song it was - if it was something old, something new, or an old unreleased track - but Jihoon seems keen on not talking about work tonight. You can't blame him.
"I'm happy you're back," you murmur and nuzzle your face closer to him. "The bed is always cold without you."
Jihoon smells like the laundry detergent you told him you usually buy, his skin radiates the kind of warmth that seeps into your soul, and you can hear his heartbeat quicken at your words. You don't have to look at his face to know that he's turned red.
"I should get you a heating blanket," he grumbles in an attempt to hide his fluster.
"I like this more," you counter.
He removes his hand from your back to place over his eyes as a soft breath leaves his lips. You look up at him with a teasing smile and, as you expected, his ears are bright red.
"Jihoon." Your voice gets his attention and he removes his hand from his face to look at you. "I love you."
His flustered expression changes to a warm and much softer one. You shuffle around until your face is right above his, and you press a kiss on his lips. It's short, and Jihoon must think it's too short as he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.
"I love you, too." His eyes stay closed, as if he can't bring himself to look at you or as if he's still expecting you to kiss him again.
You give into him, pressing another kiss on his lips as your hands cup his face. Jihoon smiles against your lips as he gets what he wants, and takes you by surprise as he manhandles you onto your back. His eyes, although not as intense as before, has a lustful spark in them again.
"Again?" you ask incredulously.
"I have to make up for lost time," he argues and presses a kiss to your cheek.
"It's late, aren't you tired?"
"I'm never too tired for you," he murmurs before turning his attention to your body for the umpteenth time that night.
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ohposhers · 16 hours
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rules for trolls requests?
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ive actually been meaning to make something like this so people know what requests i take :] Basically I'll take any request that has to do with CANON CHARACTERS from any Trolls media, including AUs or even if you just draw a character a really particular way and want to see me draw them as how you depict them etc etc I DO NOT DRAW OCS IF YOU SEND ME YOUR OC I WILL HUNT YOU FUCKING DOWN !!!
i only draw oc fanart for people i know or if you draw me fanart and i can track down one of your OCs on your page i might draw you something in return if i have time 👍👍
Keep in mind my inbox has 600+ requests so i can never guarantee I will get to your request but shoot your shot cause if i find a request particularly interesting i will definitely try to make it happen :)
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Text
Historically Accurate
"I'm telling you, Hollywood is going down with all the woke crap! You know what they say: Go woke go broke!"
Julian and Wallace were on their way back from the lunch room and the former was listening to the latter complaining. Julian had tried to avoid any topic like this, but, really, it was a mine field with Wallace. Just about *every* topic had the potential to turn out political.
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"I don't see what's wrong with a little inclusion in pop culture." Julian said, not wanting to argue but also not wanting to leave that opinion unopposed.
"Everything! It's just plain wrong, and it's brainwash, too. I mean, it's like a mind virus, poisoning everything! There's a western coming out next week. But it's all bullshit woke agenda again. The cowboy is black and gay! Literal brainwash and historical rewrite."
Julian frowned. How could an intelligent person like Wallace be so stupid at the same time?
"Why does that even bother you? I thought you hated westerns."
"Yes, that's not the point. Fact is, it's historically inaccurate and just pushing the woke agenda."
"Actually, I think it's not even historically incorrect." Julian pondered as they entered the lab using Julian's keycard and an iris scan of both scientists.
Wallace was borderline angry now.
"What are you talking about? Everyone knows that cowboys were the whitest and the straightest people there were."
"I'm not quite sure", Julian said. "Weren't there freed slaves and so on? And I would guess if you were underway with another guy for prolonged periods of time, not everything staid straight, too."
"Bullshit! Everyone knows cowboys weren't fags, and they were white."
Wallace seemed agitated now, and his usual stiff demeanor became even more pronounced.
Wallace was in his mid-forties, but the way he was talking, he seemed way older to Julian.
Julian on the other hand was awfully young for the position he had. Being 25, he still didn't look like he had finished college, even though he had his doctorate already.
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It was really a bit sad, he thought. Two of the brightest minds and they were bickering over basic, meaningless distinctions like ethnicity or sexual orientation.
"We could just ask the computer." he proposed, but Wallace frowned.
"We are not supposed to use the equipment for private research." he said.
'The computer' was part of the highly secretive project they worked on. When finished, it was supposed to be a time machine, simple as that. The actual time travel device didn't work properly yet, but a part of it, a chronoton boosted quantum computer that was able to access history itself to answer questions about the part, was already functioning quite well.
"But we are supposed to test it from time to time. Are you afraid of the answer it might give?"
"Of course not." Wallace grumbled. "Fine. Computer! Is there any historical evidence of gay black cowboys?"
The voice activated system acknowledged the request with a beep. While waiting for the answer, Julian checked the parameters of the system and found them in near-perfect condition.
Finally, the system answered, with the neutral male voice it was programmed with.
"A significant portion of cowboys consisted of people with African heritage, especially after the freeing of slaves after the civil war. Homosexual acts and attraction were common among cowboys, especially during the trail drives. Demonstrating..."
"Hrmpf." Wallace said, clearly not happy.
Julian, who was still checking the readings, scratched his head.
"Did you remember to disconnect the capsule before making the query? It seems to be drawing power."
"Ah, crap. That's just because of all the bullshit talk. Computer, stop!"
"Unable to comply. Demonstrating... Target: Montana Frontier Area, June 1865..."
The white walls of the chamber started to glow in an ever brighter white that was beginning to hurt the eyes.
"Crap. Julian, cut the power!" Wallace said, now with a clear notion of fear in his voice. The younger scientist didn't answer but tried to do as he was told - but did not succeed in time.
Suddenly, with a flash, their surroundings changed and the two of them found themselves in the middle of a rugged mountain range, on the border of a pine forest. It was late afternoon and the scientists found themselves in a just set-up camp. Two horses were standing nearby, and a small herd of cows was grazing at a meadow.
Wallace sighed and shook his head angrily. "Just great. Look at the mess you just put us in. Now we have to wait until we're rescued. And, apparently, we have to meet some black homo cowboys."
Julian looked around but couldn't see anyone around.
"I would have also guessed so, but there doesn't seem to be anyone there."
His heart sank as he had a terrible suspicion. He had been experimenting lately with a normalization circuit that would embed the time travelers into history instead of superimposing them onto it. That was - according to his theories - a rather elegant way to resolve the repelling effect the historical structure had, but it wasn't finished by any means. It had never been tested and even theoretically, it wouldn't be able to achieve a partial embedding, only a full one at best. And the more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that it had still been connected to the system.
As Julian thought about how to break it to Wallace, he noticed something strange about the other scientist. It could be a trick of the light, but he looked way more tanned than before.
"Uhm... It might actually be somewhat worse than that. I think my normalization circuit was still active when you activated the machine."
"What? What does that mean?" Wallace looked at him, furiously now.
"Well, I would guess..." Julian struggled and gave up. "Look at your hands, I think it's pretty self-explanatory."
Wallace looked down at his darkening hands and paled. Even now, he still had a considerably darker skin tone than before, darkening with every passing second.
"Shit." he said. "That's what you get for fucking around with a half-finished experiment."
Julian didn't even dare to mention his suspicion. If his normalization circuit was really active, that would make Wallace an actual, black cowboy, and not just him. Julian was also a time traveler, so he, too, would be affected.
Meanwhile, the changes in Wallace seemed to have proceeded. His facial structure looked like it was in motion before finally settling on a generally broader, manlier shape: The jawline became more pronounced, and his cheekbones raised.
"Is there... anything going on with me as well?" Julian asked.
Wallace looked over at him.
"Yeah, your hair color is changing, and I think your eye color. Blonde and blue-eyed, how cliché. But most importantly, you're not becoming fucking a fucking Black man."
Wallace didn't say Black man.
For some reason, this didn't bother Julian half as much as it should have. He felt rather at ease, and the untamed wilderness around him awakened a sense of adventure inside of him that he didn't know was in him.
Meanwhile Wallace was also feeling a change within. A surge of confidence emerged from within him that was entirely alien to the deeply insecure man at first, but quickly became more and more part of his personality. It was like his core was solidifying into a confident and assertive nature, a boldness and quiet he secretly always wished he had. At the same time, his body structure changed considerably.
Where before, Wallace had been a physically unimpressive mid-forties man, it now seemed like the years melted off of him, and for every year that he lost, he gained three pounds of muscle mass and beef. His shoulders widened, his height increased, and his frame expanded in order to accommodate the new body mass.
"It's not that bad, ain't it?" While Julian's body had not changed much besides the hair and eye color, his voice sounded entirely different now. It had a southern lilt to it, but it was charismatic and charming. It was the kind of voice you could listen to for hours without end, perfect for reading an audiobook - or telling campfire stories.
"Well now, I ain't too sure 'bout that." Wallace's voice had changed even more considerably when he answered. He had gained a thick southern accent, and his voice had dropped to a low and smooth voice that sounded commanding even if he didn't intend to.
"Ha, look at that, your skin's startin' to change now, too!"
And really, Julian's skin had started to adapt as well, but it was quickly becoming apparent that it went a different route than Wallace's. Instead of darkening to the almost black tone that he was sporting, Julian's skin became rougher and got a sun-kissed tan instead. His facial features sharpened, as his cheekbones looked chiseled all of a sudden and a rugged beard texture was adorning his chin. Julian seemed to notice it, too, since he started touching his new face immediately.
"Cool! Always wondered what I'd look like sportin' a beard." he said, apparently not too unhappy with the changes.
There was no denying Julian looked good, which made Wallace feel a touch of jealousy. In his opinion, it wasn't fair that he was the only one having to deal with the black skin. That feeling quickly faded, though, as his changes continued. His hair became very short, curly and dark. At the same time, a short beard formed on his chin and upper lip, giving him an even manlier appeal. At the same time, chest hair sprouted, sparsely of course, as it was normal for a man of his heritage. A strange feeling overcame Wallace. He wasn't necessarily *proud* to be Black now, but he also didn't mind it anymore. He was proud of a lot of secondary assets, though, like his bulging muscles or his handsome face. As his eyes became a dark brown, he had to smirk as he sat down by the fire, readjusting himself in the process. And, of course, his big cock, which might also have been positively influenced by his new ancestry.
Wallace watched as Julian turned around and tended to the horses. His body was now, finally, also changing. It didn't become nearly as bulky as his own, but instead lean and agile, with narrow hips and a well-distributed surprising strength, as Wallace knew. While Julian was busy with the horses, Wallace had a good view of his ass. It filled out the jeans just so well, and Vallace only noticed now that the other man's attire had changed. He was clad in a pair of blue jeans, a vest and, of course a Stetson now, and Vance always thought that this outfit accentuated the best parts of his partner quite well. He preferred black leather, himself, since the material was sturdier and felt better on the skin.
Vince felt his cock hardening in his leather pants and readjusted himself again while also leaning back and spreading his legs to make more room for the erection. He wasn't afraid of anyone seeing his rude behavior. The only other man within a wide range was Jesse, the owner of that juicy ass. And he was allowed to see... well, everything.
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Vince waited patiently until Jesse returned to the campfire, with a big smile on his face.
"How them horses holdin' up, partner?" Vince asked.
"They're good. Just a tad worn out from today's ride." Jesse answered.
"Well, there's somethin' else needs tendin' to, if you're free to lend a hand. Or an ass." Vince grinned and made his cock throb in the confines of his tight leather pants.
Jesse grinned at the display of masculinity and massaged his own cock.
"Hell yes!"
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As Jesse moved over in his usual graceful movements, Vince leaned back. There really wasn't anything better than being a big, black cowboy. Especially not with a partner like Jesse, who was always happy to make the nights in the wilderness a little less lonely.
Certainly not poor and lonesome! Also check out this awesome writer!
There are a few more versions of Jesse and Vince, over at my tip jar.
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|| Sweatpants (Frank's version) ||
Frank Castle x female reader
Tags/warnings: this is just an exploration in thirst (and smut) similar to the blurb I wrote for Matt, about slutty grey sweatpants. I want to lick him.
A very sweaty man, oral sex (m and f), come eating. E. Also, PLEASE, PLEASE reblog if you enjoyed, likes are nice, comments even better! There is NO algorithm on Tumblr, reblogs are how things are found on your dash! Thank you so much 💕
This isn't fair.
Yeah, it's hot, but it still isn't fair.
You'd long abandoned any notion of working out while you were at Fogwell’s tonight, Frank unknowingly saw to that. Your kettlebells lay off to the side, long forgotten. Your initial warm up would never have gotten you as heated inside as you are now, seeing what you're seeing.
Those goddamn grey sweats he's wearing are barely hanging on to his hips. You're sure they're actually screaming out to you for help.
Take us off, they seem to be whispering. You're honestly surprised they haven't yet fallen down of their own accord with the way he's been swiping hard at the punchbag for the last half-hour.
He performs the same routine over and over, several powerful jabs, hooks and uppercuts and then he'll back off, doing a little lap of the ring to reset himself. And every time you get a glorious view of his bare upper body, the way the sweat glows on his taut pectoral muscles, the way his abs flex as he moves, the gorgeous curve of his stomach, framed by the defined V lines leading your gaze all the way down from his swaggering hips as he strides past you.
Good God. His ass looks amazing too.
When he bounces back and forth on the balls of his feet you can't help notice something else bouncing up against the slack fabric of those fucking ridiculous sweats of his…
Your mouth is practically hanging wide open now. You blindly reach for the bottle of water next to you to quench your thirst, knocking it over and spilling some in the process.
It's just not fair.
He must know. He must. He's gotta know what all this is doing to you, how can he not?!
Your eyes lock onto an innocent bead of sweat, following as it slowly trails its merry way down his heaving body to the sweatband of his pants, soaking into the soft fabric where you know it'll leave that musky scent you just want nothing more than to bury your nose in.
You bite down so hard on your bottom lip you're beginning to wear a divot into it.
It's insane. They're slung so criminally low on his hips that you can almost see where his happy trail is leading, the dark fuzz drawing your eyes down again toward-
“You alright?”
That gruff, grizzled voice of his knocks you out of your reverie. Are you?
You resemble a doped up kitty that's just returned from the vet, your eyes wide, dark, and spaced out as he's suddenly very close to you right in front of your face. He's pulling off his hand wraps and leaning across to grab some water from the bag that's lying open on the bench next to you.
He smells so good.
You can feel the heat from his worked muscles radiating off him, can almost taste the fresh sweat off him, absently licking your lips again as you watch him run a hand up over his damp forehead and through his hair.
“Y-yeah?” When you eventually reply he cracks a smile that definitely ruins your panties, as if they weren't ruined already.
“Okay. M'gonna hit the shower.”
Oh
Oh no.
No no no, you can't have that.
“W-wait!” You stutter out, and you're on your feet, somehow the keys to the gym that Matt had left with you are grasped in your hand, and in a blur you're locking the door, pulling down all the blinds and you've got your fingers splayed over his chest trying to push Frank down onto the mat on the floor.
“Whoa, okay mama. It's like that is it?” Frank huffs out a chuckle but he goes exactly where you want him to, still catching his breath as you straddle his hips.
“...you're evil,” you murmur, tracing your fingertips over and around his nipples and watching how the muscles under your nails twitch as you draw them down to your target.
Frank looks up at you with that confused puppy expression with his brows almost crashing into each other that always melts your heart, but this time it's just making you even more determined.
“Evil huh? Shit. What have I done now?”
“Driving me crazy…”
“C'mon sweetheart, you gotta give me a clue or somethin’.”
You pull teasingly at the damp elastic waistband of his pants, “These.” you muse, letting it snap back against his skin then lowering yourself to lick slowly along the deep groove at his hip. Your eyes shut as you finally get the sweaty, musky taste of your man on your tongue. A soft grunt leaves him as he cranes his neck to watch, his dick already showing interest too as your mouth makes it way lower. He reaches down, his hand just resting on your shoulder, fingers tapping lightly to get your attention.
“H-hey darlin’, not that I don't appreciate it but… we doin’ this? Here? Now?” Frank asks with a very slight nervousness. It's freaking adorable.
You look up at him through your eyelashes knowing he'll fold soon enough. “Yeah we're doing this here and now, Frankie. I already told you - you're driving me crazy, and you were distracting me so much that I still need to workout.”
He smirks and you can see him start to get more comfortable with the idea of some naked shenanigans with you in Matt's gym.
“All because of these pants?” He asks.
“All because of those pants,” You reply, curling your fingertips around the waistband of them again. “along with the way you look like a giant snack in them.”
Frank scoffs, but lays his head back down and lifts his hips up as you tug at the ‘problematic’ pants to pull them down. Predictably, as discerned from your earlier observations, and much to your delight, he's gone commando today. You hum as his fully erect cock is freed, slapping against his stomach with a delicious smack.
“Fuck, Frank…’ you say, taking in the rare sight of him laying almost prone for you.
What to do��
“Hey princess, you're the boss.” He says perceptively, waiting so patiently for your lust-addled brain to decide whether you want to stuff your mouth or pussy with him.
It's a much easier decision than you thought, relishing in the familiar, quiet curses Frank is making as you start to work your way back up his thick, muscular legs, placing kisses wherever you want. When you reach his groin, you nose at the thatch of hair around the base of his cock, idly stroking and gently cupping his balls.
“Mm, I'm the boss.” You repeat back at him, smile sweetly as he grins at you.
“Yeah, that's right, oh shit-”
He makes a choked sound in the back of his throat and his cock twitches as you move your lips to the base, your tongue sneaking out to kitten lick his ball sac, gradually moving upwards, starting to trace along the thick vein that runs the salty length of his perfect dick.
You listen and are rewarded with the soft, low moan that comes from his throat when you keep going, the flat of your warm, wet tongue lapping underneath the head. He throbs again, a drop of precum beading and ready to leak from his slit.
“You're so good for me, Frankie.”
He's got those deep brown eyes trained hard on you, licking his lips, his chest rising with the deeper breaths he's drawing. They only increase as you wrap your fingers to grip around the base of him and then swipe and swirl your tongue to taste him. He moans, biting down his lip as you take him into your mouth, sealing your lips around his girth. Having him, the man the rest of the world only knows as the Punisher, his pleasure at your mercy, is maybe the most powerful feeling in the world. Or maybe that's when you have your own thighs wrapped around his head. It's a tricky one to answer.
“Fuuuck, sweetheart…” Frank hisses out, his hands self-restrained by his sides, “Mm, jesus christ!”
You hum around him as you pull your lips back to his tip before taking him as deep into your throat as you can manage, your hand working the rest of him. You repeat the motion, spit dripping down to his length and over your fingers helping your squeeze and twist, feeling the way he's almost shaking beneath you.
“God damn you're so good, so damn good to me baby.”
Your free hand switches between reaching up to dig your nails into the meat of his pectoral muscle and sliding down between his legs to gently tug and tease his balls. He groans loudly, you'd made a point in the past of making it known to him just how much hearing the sounds of his pleasure turns you on, and he had gradually rewarded you with more and more feedback.
You're almost entirely focused on him but now you can no longer ignore the incessant ache at your core. You're slick from almost an hour of getting yourself worked up at the sight of Frank boxing, still sucking and licking the length of his cock as you slip your hand into your leggings and under the soft fabric of your underwear. You moan around him as the pads of your fingertips slide over your clit, aware that Frank is propping himself up on his elbows to watch you.
“You want my mouth, mama? C'mon an get up here. Sit right here baby, let me take care of you.”
You release him temporarily to shuck off the clothes from your bottom half because you cannot refuse an offer like that.
He curls his arms around your bare thighs as soon as you straddle him facing towards his feet, pulling you straight down onto his hungry mouth without delay. You grind down to meet him as he laps at your glistening cunt, a wavering moan leaving your lips as you reach again for his rock hard, weeping red cock. You stretch your tongue out to lick and suck what you can, jerking him off as he devours your pussy like it's his last ever meal.
This was supposed to be all about him but as usual he's managed to flip the script and somehow make it all about you. You're hardly complaining, no. In fact you're riding Frank's face hard as his encouraging moans vibrate right through your core. He loves going down on you, could even say he lives for it, inviting you to sit right on his face almost every time you're intimate with each other.
Now that he's not snug in your throat he bends his knees and starts to thrust his hips up against the direction of your firm strokes, driven by the way you're grinding and rocking your own more quickly, completely covering his mouth and chin with a sheen of your arousal. You concentrate the tight circle of your forefinger and thumb just under the fat, wet head of his cock, twisting and squeezing up and over because you know that's what gets him panting and praising you. More salty pre trickles out and you eagerly lap it up.
You yelp as Frank thrusts his tongue as deep as he can inside you, fucking you with it before he nudges forward again, slurping and sucking at your puffy clit. The tightness and tension of your impending release is gathering pace as you hear how feral Frank sounds between your legs. You can barely keep a rhythm with either hips or hands but it doesn't seem to matter as you can tell he's as close as you are. You're half worried you'll smother him with the ferocity and strength with which he's holding you so close to him, as if he needs you to breathe.
Suddenly, the tension snaps, hard. His tongue making you cry out, your legs shaking underneath your wildly undulating hips as you climax, calling out his name repeatedly like a prayer, the sound reverberating around the gym. Your hand is barely moving on his cock but it's you quivering and moaning in ecstasy right on his face that sets him off. He's tapping his fingers against your hips in warning, as very quickly afterwards his own hips jerk up and with a muffled groan against your pulsing pussy, his cock spurts its creamy load. You catch some on your waiting tongue, the rest dribbling warmly on your fingers and down onto his tensing stomach and abs.
After a brief moment getting your bearings and breath back, you're both humming, satisfied, and softly laughing with each other. He supports you as you gingerly lift your leg over his head and turn yourself around to face him. He's licking his lips, the biggest smile on his gorgeously wrecked face, his eyes half-lidded as he pulls you down to him for a languid kiss, tasting each other on you as your tongues slide over one another. At the same time you're trying to find somewhere to place your come-covered hand so it doesn't go everywhere and you don't lose your balance.
“Mmm, okay you can't tell me that wasn't fun.” You say, and then your lips turn down as you remember something vital.
“Shit.”
Frank looks up at you, his expression one of concern. “What's wrong?”
“Urgh, Matt will know. He'll know even if we clean the mats and everything!” You groan again, wiping off your messy fingers on Frank's discarded sweatpants. “He won't let this go, we probably won't be allowed back in the gym!”
Frank just shrugs, a damn sight more relaxed now as he cleans himself off with them too.
“I'm pretty sure Murdock's done way worse in here. He aint that pure."
His lips curl into a grin. "Anyway, don't know ‘bout you, but I'll be puttin’ the blame on these pants. More trouble than they're worth, ain't that right, sweetheart?”
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fandom-go-round · 15 hours
Note
Obey Me! Demon Brothers’ #1 kinks?
I did some classics and some new ones here, just having some fun. Hope you enjoy!
Warnings: Sex, Sexual Situations, Wax Play, Orgasm Denial, Somophilia, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Cock Warming, Voyeurism, Semi Public Sex, Sex Videos, Taking Photos During Sex
Lucifer is really into wax play. Not just the wax of course but the entire set up and prep. Having you willingly give into him, let him tie you up and then trust him to know your limits? He’s so hard it hurts. You’ve already cum twice before he even gets to the candles, the scent your favorite. He’s determined to draw this out so be ready; he’s not going to stop until the flames snuff out.
Mammon is into orgasm denial, both for himself and you. There are days when he’s being extra whiny and bratty. Those are the best days to make him work for his orgasm; he’ll do anything to cum. Be ready for him to flip the scrip though. He wants you to feel good for as long as you let him. He wants all of your attention all of the time. Call him a brat or praise him, as long as you give it your all and Mammon will return it times ten.
Levi’s biggest kink is anal sex. It doesn’t sound like much but it’s the one thing Levi goes back to consistently. He loves are sorts of things but has issues expressing what he really wants. Anal is ‘tame’ enough that he doesn’t mind requesting it and that makes him more comfortable to bring up other kinks. He always wants to use his tail, especially when doing anal. Be clear and gentle with Levi and he’ll reveal all his dirty secrets to you.
Satan loves a long cock warming session. It’s two fold; he loves being close and intimate with you but he’s also a horrible tease and wants to see how long you can hold out. He’ll happily pick up a book or start studying with you in his lap. He might scold you for squirming but he doesn’t mean it; Satan loves seeing how desperate you are for him. If you’re ever able to reverse the positions? He’s not going to last long, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes as he grits his teeth. He’s gorgeous.
Asmo loves voyeurism in all forms. From having sex in a semi-public space to teasing you in public, he’s into it all. He never wants to do it where you’ll actually get caught but the thrill can get him going. If you’re not into that, it’s alright. Asmo also loves to take pictures of you and record videos. His eyes only of course! But if you pose for him and let him snap a quick pic? Oooh he’ll love you even more!
Beel is a man with simple tastes. Simple tastes meaning you on his tongue of course. He’s into oral, not if ands or buts. Beel is happiest between your legs, wherever is most comfortable for you. On the bed? He’ll kneel on the floor. Straddling his face? Don’t worry babe, he’s got you. Against the wall? He’ll hold you up. Just don’t ask him to stop any time soon, he’s content where he is.
Belphie isn’t a huge surprise but he loves sleepy sex. He loves the feeling of being half awake and sliding into you, rolling his hips slowly. It’s even better when you’re the one riding him, barely raising your hips as you fuck yourself on him. He can’t help but mark you up with his teeth and hands; his hips might not be moving but that doesn’t mean the rest of him isn’t.
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SORSHA!!! The fuck boy besties Lix & Ji????
Omg, I was talking about them being your besties I know in college maybe roommates but them being besties & fucking you dumb after meeting in a club!🫠🫠🫠
Definitely love your pov of it💯🤌🏽
🎀
Oh no I messed it up 😫😭😭😭 I’m so sorry I misinterpreted your ask 😔🥹 I feel so silly !!!
(Annonie is referring to this ask)
But now I’m having whole other thoughts!!!
Like the three of you live together as housemates. Jisung and Felix usually go out and pick up girls to bring back to the apartment.
It’s usually your chance to stay home, have some special alone time. They get back so late and they’re so preoccupied you could be painting the living room walls and they wouldn’t know.
So.. as usual when they’re out doing what fuck boys do, you settle on your bed in just your oversized tee. You tend to your own needs. Touch yourself, finger fuck yourself, use your dildo.
What you don’t realise is that Ji and Lix, for whatever reason, come home early (and alone).
They hear your whimpers. They wonder who you have in your room.
They sneak up to the door, it’s ajar, and see you fucking yourself slow and deep with your dildo.
Jisung and Felix are mesmerised as they watch your hips rock against the toy. They subconsciously lick their lips when they see your arousal coating it each time you withdraw it from your cunt.
Jisung whimpers. Fuck! He looks at Felix who is biting his lip hungrily.
Your eyes spring open and you lift your head to see the two men staring at your pussy.
“A-are you just going to stand there?” You pant. “I know you know how to fuck a girl good…”
Jisung and Felix look at each other.
“I hear how you make them scream…while I’m here… using a fucking…toy.” You’re actually pretty close to coming. Especially having your friends eyes on you.
Felix and Jisung exchange a knowing look, and saunter into your bedroom.
“Fuck, baby. Your pussy is so wet.” Says Jisung, not only from the visual, but also how loud the wet noises were coming from your cunt.
“Let’s take this shirt of, yeah? That way we can take care of you properly.”
“You always…always…take care of random girls.” You pant.
“We’re so sorry, baby. Me and Lixi are here now.” Jisung coos as he nestles alongside your now naked body.
Felix lies on the other side of you, and starts to caress your body. He sucks on your nipple as his hands roam your stomach. “What do you think about when you touch yourself.” He whispers.
Should you tell them the truth? That you think about being one of their hookups? One of their conquests?
“Hmph.” Jisung chuckles low. “I bet our pretty baby listens to us fuck girls and imagine it’s her pussy we’re tearing up?”
Your silence followed by a hard swallow gives you way.
Jisung winks at you. “Knew it.” He whispers as his hand reaches down to grasp the dildo.
You draw in a sharp breath and then a long moan when he takes over and starts fucking you with your toy.
Felix releases your nipple with a pop. “Does our good girl imagine sucking our cocks?”
“Yes!” You cry. “Wanna taste your cocks.”
Jisung pulls the dildo from your aching cunt and tosses it to the side, and you whimper in protest.
“Shh… you’ll be filled again soon enough, sweetheart.”
They pull you off the bed to kneel on the floor and stand side by side in front of you. You watch wide eyed as they peel their clothes off and the three of you are completely naked.
They are likes pair of fucking gods. Toned, slender, strong. The sight of their very hard, and surprisingly large cocks has you poor dripping, empty, cunt clenching.
“Is our pretty girl just going to look, or is she going to open up wide?” Felix says softly. “You say you want us. Show us. Show us just how much you have been thinking about our cocks.’
They step towards you and you reach out to take hold of them. You start with Felix, taking him in as far as possible, gagging a little with your overzealous enthusiasm, while you jerk off Jisung with you other hand.
Then you swap, eventually alternating between them several times.
“Baby, you mouth. Fuck it feels perfect.”
“Look how much she can take in.”
“Someone needs to fuck me.” You moan. “Please… fill me up. Make me your slut.”
The two men groan at your filthy request, moving you back on the bed.
Jisung lays on his back while you kneel between his legs and take him deep into your throat. You want to fucking choke on his delicious cock.
“Pop your arse up for me love… that’s it.” Growls Felix, digging his fingers into your hips and guiding the tip of his cock against your entrance.
“Ready?” It isn’t a question for you, but between Jisung and Felix.
Jisung tangles his fingers into the hair on the back of your head and lifts your head until just the tip is inside your mouth. Then, as Felix pushes inside of you, Jisung pushes your head down over his cock.
They fuck you like this. Every withdrawal from Felix, Jisung releases your head up. Every thrust into your cunt was mirrored with your head being pushed down all the way to the base.
They fuck you until you come all over Felix’s cock and Felix comes all over your back. Then they swap, getting hard again quickly.
“Baby, you feel so fucking perfect. Can I come inside you?” Jisung moans.
“Yes… please…” you pop of Felix momentarily.
“Oh fuck!” You cry as you come again, then feel Jisung spill inside you. Felix follows, coating the back of your throat.
The three of you lay in a tangle of sweaty limbs while you catch your breath.
“I think we need to stay in every night and fuck.” Declares Jisung.
You and Felix nod in agreement.
A/n I had to flesh this out!!! It’s rushed but I hope it still came out ok 😘😘😘
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina
@3rachasdomesticbanana
@palindrome969
@xxkissesforchanniexx
@chuuchuu1224
@fun-fanfics
@wolfennracha
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sulfies · 2 days
Note
In your heavy bleeding au, does Desmond remember his bleeds or does he just black out during the whole process? Also, does he have certain triggers?
Love all your au stuff btw owo
Im glad my au is infecting everyones brain muhahaha
to answer, when I draw Desmond with yellow eyes and fainting like a damsel I think in my head its one fo 2 things:
1) he is having such a heavy bleed(hehe pun) his body shuts down and all he can do is to live thru the bleed basically, he would not be able to tell its a bleed even if someone told him it was one(they cant tho since he is stuck in the bleed in his head) so he just has to ride it out. It probobly disorients him quiet a bit once he gets out of it for hrs maybe in some cases days.
2) he is having visions from apple and its such heavy knowledge his human brain kinda goes overheat mode.
In the end you can determine yourself (since its an au nothing is set in stone lol) if he remembers or not but for myself:
I think on 1)
he doesnt remember all details, after he is out of the episode he probobly remembers who the bleed was about and some context but not all, but some stuff lingers for few hours sometimes days as mentioned. maybe he finds hard to switch to the language he uses the most or his emotions carry over, like if it was about altair right after he lost his ranks, he feels some petty anger towards Malik he cannot explain but he can figure out it was cocky-altair memories probobly due to context clues. They are probobly like dreams(or nightmares) in a sense where the more he tries to remember the more he forgets about details…
for 2)
He is just not that smart enough (sorry Des ur no Altaïr…)to explain what the apple showed him but he probobly does remember in a sense; if its things like a remedy, a basic invention or instructions that he can learn from a yt video normally he can muscle memory to make em. its more like “how tf did u do that” “uhhh i have no idea” withing a limit lol so he cannot invent phones bc he probobly cant even make a phone in modern day
——————
for his other heavy bleeds where he is not passed out with eyes all gold I think some of the same rules as 1) apply where he doesnt know he is in a bleed, especially if he is bleeding as someone bc at that moment he thinks he is that person, but someone could snap him out of it if they tried (usually if he is bleeding ezio and actual ezio shows up he can make Des snap out of it but its not foolproof) and afterwards he probobly remembers most of it (to his horror) bc he did actively and physically live thru it. Like w the fic where he thinks there are guards after him but its a bleed, after he learns it is he still remembers them and sees them
but again I think the fun part is u can kinda make Des suffer in anyway you want (again…sorry Des…)so no rules are set in stone, so if you dont want him to remember anything after bleeds you are free to do so and ill probobly break these guides aswell lol
————-
for triggers hmm i think anything you want could be a trigger lol but it doesnt have to be “triggered” to happen. I think like that other fic when he first time-travels and lands in Italy or Levant he would most likely have a bleed where he thinks he is someone else sooner or later bc the enviroment shocks him and confuses him (as time travel does) so something that “shocks” him can send him into an episode but he could also be totally fine in another scenerio
in my hc w the fainting ones, they are similar to seizures w how they come and go (I do not get seizures so my research is very limited) so sometimes he can guess it will happen few seconds to min before but he cannot stop them and sometimes it just gets him by suprise, for the ones where he doesnt faint he again has no idea when it will happen and most likely cannot tell it will, those ones are probobly more affected by “triggers” but they dont have to be as I said above
ty for askingg sorry to give an essay as response lol
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em-harlsnow · 2 days
Text
part 2 of my tattoo speed write, find part 1 here.
Tattoo date!!
so mickey goes in to get his tattoo with ian. he’s been for a consultation already because believe it or not he doesn’t want someone to do a shoddy job of it.
he’s drawn a cross between a serpent and dragon and shown the person doing it what size he wants and where he wants it.
ian asked him to draw his ‘MM’ tattoo as well so it’s sort of cursive, or at least has some swirly patterns ingrained into it because he doesn’t just want it printed on.
the guy doing it is just covered in tattoos and piercings. mickey thinks they look sort of cool, but the piercings look way too painful for him to ever consider it. the guy sits him down in the chair and starts running through the process, even if they already talked about it in the consultation. Ian’s sitting on a chair next to him, out of the way of the tattoo artist.
“I can see you’ve already got some ink, but i still have to go through everything.” Mickey nods. “So what you want is big, so it’ll take a couple of hours. Just a reminder: it is permanent. It’s not gonna rub out or wash off.” Mickey snorts, looking down at his knuckles and the guy laughs. “Yeah, i know you know that. I’ll draw it out first so you can confirm it’s what you want. But when we actually start just let me know any time you want to take a break. It’s also common for people to faint, so let me know if you feel lightheaded.”
He makes Mickey sign some stuff which he hardly reads because he understands that a tattoo is permanent thank you very much, and he is also familiar with the healing process and the pain.
So the guy starts to draw it out and that only takes like twenty minutes, during which him and ian just have a conversation about the next gallagher family thing. Then the guy asks Mickey to check if it’s okay, and Mickey’s pleased with it.
The tattoo artist (I’ve decided his name is Zyler) leaves the room to get the ink and prepare the needles.
“are u nervous?” Ian asks him, to which mickey rolls his eyes fondly.
“no, copper cock, i’m not nervous.” Except he is a little bit because tattoos still hurt and he’s never gotten one with this much fucking preparation before.
Ian just smiles at him and grabs his hand (on the side not getting tattooed) and mickey sighs but allows him to think he’s helping (which he definitely is)
Zyler returns and starts and yep, that fucking hurts. It’s not too bad after a while, and it’s the shoulder so it’s not close to the bone. he may have been drunk and it may have been a while ago but his knuckles hurt more by miles.
Zyler talks to them, asking about how long they’ve been married. ian answers most of the questions because Mickey’s not one to chit chat with strangers when he’s not being stabbed over and over by said stranger, never mind when he is.
Around half way through, Zyler says they’ll take a 30 minute break, because they’ve been there for like an hour already.
Ian reaches over to see how it is, and Mickey yells out.
“don’t touch it, idiot!”
“I’m not going to touch it, Mick, just let me have a look.”
Mickey twists to show him the progress and Ian smiles, telling him something like ‘looks good’.
Zyler talks to Mickey some more, asking about his current tattoos. Obviously, he’s had to take his shirt off for the procedure because even with sleeveless shirts it’s just easier to take it off entirely. Mickey tells him how he got his knuckles when he was like 14, to which Zyler looks surprised but not entirely shocked. Mickey explains how he designed the one on his forearm and got some unlicensed guy in Mexico to do it for him. He explains how he gave the ‘Ian Galager’ one to himself in prison, but doesn’t elaborate.
Zyler states that the nature of his previous tattoos makes sense considering his clearly high pain tolerance.
“I mean, i’ve been shot twice, so that probably has something to do with it as well.” Mickey laughs.
Zyler looks surprised again, because he may run a tattoo studio so he meets a lot of characters, but this is a lot.
“You’ve been shot twice?”
“Yup - all of ‘em his fault.” Mickey jabs a finger at Ian, which he snorts at.
“They aren’t my fault, they’re your fault. I was just in the vicinity.”
“In the vicinity my ass, Gallagher. Your fault.”
“You were the one who got too cocky and showed off to Kash, then got too cocky again and tried to steal a fuckin’ Grandfather clock, Mick. None of that was my fault.” Ian’s laughing and Zyler laughs too, although he looks somewhat puzzled. “Also - I was the one who got someone to patch up your ass the last time you got shot.”
“Yeah, i’m so fuckin’ grateful for your kitchen table and a grandpa with a pair of pliers”
“Better than your kitchen table with all the guns and knives on it and two dirty fuckin’ forks held by your high brothers.”
Mickey just does a little eye roll, and Zyler looks all the more intrigued as he cleans the equipment to continue.
“You got shot in the ass?” Is the bit he focuses on, too interested to maintain professionalism.
“Yup. All because of him.” Ian just rolls his eyes.
“The first one was in the leg, and both were because of your stealing habits.”
“Stealing habits- I don’t? I don’t have fuckin’ stealing habits, Gallagher. You’re making be sound like a klepto.”
Ian just rolls his eyes and smiles, squeezing his hand has Zyler starts up again.
“So… how long have you been together?” He asks, because all this lore he’s learning doesn’t sound like people who’ve been married for just two years.
“Better part of eleven years.” Ian answers.
“Jesus- how old are you two?”
“I’m 26. So, I was 15 when we first got together and he was 16.”
“Wow, real high school sweethearts.”
Mickey scoffs at the term.
“Yeah, I mean. We went to the same school so technically we’ve known each other since like elementary.”
Zyler raises his eyebrows again.
“But he looked like a dork in elementary so i didn’t go near him.” Mickey adds, voice somewhat strained.
Ian slaps his arm lightly.
When they’re finished, him and ian switch positions. Mickey’s shirt is back on, but he now has a plastic plaster-thing over the new ink. He keeps looking at it, almost touching it, and Ian slaps his hand away in warning not to.
Ian doesn’t even have to ask for Mickey to hold his hand during his tattoo, because he just does it anyway.
“Any meaning behind this one?” Zyler asks as he draws out the patterned ‘MM’ on his wrist.
“His initials.” Ian gestures towards Mickey with his head. “Mikhailo Milkovich.” And Mickey chides him for saying his full name because that wasn’t necessary, Gallagher. “He drew it, too.”
“That’s sweet.” Zyler tells them. “Usually I feel like people who get each others names tattooed aren’t gonna last, but I gotta say I think you guys might be the exception.” Ian beams and Mickey grumbles around a smile.
Ian squeezes Mickey’s hand tight throughout the whole thing, much the same as how Mickey had. He gets a matching plastic wrap and they both get some care-gel thing they need to put on each night as well as a reminder to put more sunscreen on areas with ink.
Ian waves a friendly goodbye to Zyler, and Zyler has a great story to tell his coworker Sasha, who he’s been hoping to ask out soon, when she gets back from her sister’s wedding.
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frostyhelltime · 23 hours
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hihi!! i love your work, i was wondering if i could request hazbin hotel characters x male or GN socially awkward reader who stutters a lot? preferably the characters angel dust, husk, vox, and velvette please, thank you in advance! you don't have to do it if you don't want to ofc, take your time and stay safe :D
Aaaaaaaaa this is such a cute prompt! I would be glad to Nonnie!! Also love that Velvette is in here too. Love her but she's not quite as popular as some other characters so I was super excited to see your request!
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Did I Stutter?
Ft. Angel Dust, Husk, Vox, and Velvette x male!reader
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Angel Dust
Is genuinely trying his best to be kind to his boyfriend, really.
And he succeeds most of the time, but there was definitely a learning curve at the beginning of the relationship.
The awkwardness Angel didn't mind at all. Just thought you were that smitten with him that you got tongue-tied and acted a little awkward because he was just that hot.
However as the relationship progressed and you continued to stutter and are still a little awkward he brings it up.
Once he realizes that's just how you are he's a little dismayed that it wasn't him that made you do it. But doesn't mind it once he gets over that.
He's one of the more patient ones, for sure. When you have trouble getting something out he doesn't make a big deal of it or draw attention to your stutter, he just keeps his face normal and neutral as he patiently waits for you to finish, like you aren't struggling for words.
It actually helps a lot because you don't feel the pressure to get it right and get it right fast that you feel with others.
Although he does have a habit sometimes of intentionally riling you up or being extra seductive with you to worsen your stutter because he thinks it's cute when you stutter his name with wide eyes like that.
"Ya know we've been together awhile now, right? Ya don't have to be so nervous around me all the time. I mean the stutter is cute and it's adorable when ya trip over your words, and I know I'm hot, but I'm starting ta wonder if you're ever going to get used to me." Angel Dust laughs as the two of you walk through Pentagram City, Angel walking beside you. He has one of his hands holding yours, and the other wrapped protectively around your shoulders as you make your way through the streets.
A rare day off and all he wants is to spend it with you to recharge himself.
You huff a moment, trying to think of how to explain it. You hadn't realized he thought it was a nervous habit and not just...what you do.
"T-This is....h-how I normally talk." You eventually get out, speaking slowly to try and reduce the rate at which you stutter.
At that Angel Dust stops and frowns and you're worried that perhaps this quirk of yours is too much for him to deal with now that he knows it isn't temporary. But he just pouts and looks at you as he starts walking again.
"It isn't because I'm super hot? Ugh. How disappointin." He huffs, throwing his head back and looking up at the sky a moment.
"Ya lucky you're so cute. I'll pretend not to be sad that you weren't swooning over me this whole time." Angel Dust looks back down at him.
But in a rare show of courage, his boyfriend clears his throat and forces out something a little bolder than usual.
"W-Who said I w-wasn't?" A coy grin on his face just made Angel stop a moment again, eyes wide as he processed what he had said.
"Ya can't just surprise me with that kind of smooth shit when I'm not expecting it." He grumbles, but from how affectionately Angel grips his hand just a little tighter it's clear he's not actually upset.
He'll just get him back later tonight. He may not be the cause of the stutter, but he knows how to make it worse when he gets a little to close to him, hands running over his body as he whispers to him.
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Husk
Another one who is also very understanding.
Literally never once brings it up.
When he figures out that's just how you talk, he shrugs it off.
But he does think it's cute when you stutter on his name when you're trying to get his attention.
But he'll keep that to himself.
When you're struggling he actually makes it really easy on you, busying himself with menial work behind the bar: Organizing bottles, messing around with a new cocktail he had an idea for, cleaning glasses. Whatever he can find so he isn't looking at you, but still waits patiently for you to speak. Him not staring at you, waiting for you to get the words out was actually really helpful.
He also doesn't mind the social awkward aspect. He's not exactly a social butterfly himself, or a people person.
Besides, he's served plenty of awkward people who relax a bit when they have some liquid courage. So those types of people never bothered him.
"A-A-And do you k-know what that, that, t-that- UGH." Husk's boyfriend shouts in frustration eventually. Husk looks over as you lay your head down on the bartop in frustration.
Husk just grabs a glass and pulls out a few bottles, busying himself with making...some sort of new concoction.
"Take your time." Is all he says, the only acknowledgement he gave that he recognized you were struggling.
He's purposefully not looking at you, letting you take a moment to calm and collect yourself without feeling the pressure.
You take a deep breath and try again, speaking slower this time so your upset doesn't make it worse.
"W-Wanna know....what that a-asshole said?" You eventually get out as he pushes the finished drink towards you to try.
"Oh I'm real curious." Husk says plainly, and to others around he might sound only as interested as a bartender normally is in their patrons sob stories. But you can hear in his undertone he does actually want to know.
"H-He said, w-with that cheap o-o-outfit, he's surpr-prised I, I, I...can even afford a drink!" You throw your hands up as you finally finish lamenting about the jerk you met last night when you decided to go clubbing with Angel Dust and Cherri.
Husk frowns a moment at the insult, not liking that he wasn't there to correct the guy. But he can at least settle for making you laugh as you take the first few sips.
He leans forward then, his elbows on the bartop as he lays his head in one hand and looks at you.
"You don't need to afford any drinks. You're fucking the bartender. You get 'em free." He smirks, holding back a laugh as he watches you almost immediately spit out that first sip, and watches you laugh for the first time since you sat down here in such a foul mood.
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Vox
Surprisingly, genuinely the most empathetic about the whole thing.
When you first started dating him, he tried to help you. Lots of famous orators had stutters and they overcame them!
But he realizes eventually you don't want him to be so focused on fixing it, just help you get through it when it gets frustrating.
Once you get past that miscommunication, it's a lot smoother.
If you're struggling exceptionally bad he just pulls out his phone and hands it to you in a non-chalant manner so as not to draw attention to you, to let you type what you want to try and get across to him.
Genuinely scrubs social media down there of any shit-talking he sees people might do about 'Vox's stuttering mess of a boyfriend'. He controls pretty much all of it anyway. So it isn't the hardest thing.
He doesn't want you to see what some stranger who isn't worth anything is saying about you if it might make you feel bad.
The reason he is the most empathetic is because he does also have a tendency to stutter too, technically. When he glitches out, he can often stutter or repeat words and it's always intensely frustrating to him because it shows someone how he's feeling an intense enough emotion to glitch out like that.
Always does his best to retain as much control as he can when he glitches because of this, but when it's just the two of you he doesn't...really mind if you hear his computer equivalent of stuttering.
"S-S-Stupid FUCKING Val!" Vox yells as he throws some stupid object on his desk against the wall, narrowly missing you when you walk in to see him. His normal bright blue face is a bright and angry red and Vox is immediately simmering down, eyes wide when he realizes he almost nailed you with it. What had he even thrown? His eyes glance down and he sees it was a stapler and he winces. Yeah, with his strength and throwing that, that could have done a lot of damage if it had connected.
"S-Sh----iiit! I-I'm sorry!"
But Vox's boyfriend doesn't even seem bothered, just jogging over to him quickly and holding his hands, using his thumbs to rub circles on Vox's palms. Clearly trying to calm him down and...damnit it's working. The red begins to fade to blue once again as Vox lets out a deep sigh.
"W-What happened?" You ask him curiously, looking up at him.
"Fucking VAL happened, of course. Ripped apart one of my best news anchors because he found out they were fucking one of his favorites and he doesn't like to share. Now I gotta find someone else who is just as good or I'll be running the 6 o'clock segment until I do." Vox grumbles. He could just slap someone in there of course, but he hadn't built VoxTek into what it was today by accepting second best.
You tug him down, him eventually getting the message and leaning down to be within your reach more. You lean forward and gently place an affectionate kiss on his screen.
"H-How about....I or-or-order food to-to go? W-We'll sit here and...look at c-candidates." You suggest and Vox's face softens again, glad that although Val had ruined his nice relaxing dinner date with you, that he at least still got to spend time with you. Val couldn't ruin his night at least, it seems.
Vox smiles again, his normal exuberant and charismatic showman personality back on full display as he feels better with a plan in place.
"Hey I could always say screw it and let you have a whack at it." He teases, not even feeling bad about the cute look of panic in your eyes as you immediately shake your head no. He can't help but laugh and quickly shakes his own head.
"Kidding! Kidding! I want to still have a boyfriend by the end of tonight." He chuckles, earning him a gentle hit to his shoulder from you at his joke.
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Velvette
Admittedly...the least kind about it...at first anyway.
She has little patience or time for things in general. So a stutter was actually a little aggravating to her at first. Until she realized one day she kinda thought it sounded a little cute coming from you.
It was something unique about you, and hey, fashion is all about being unique.
She almost certainly did make fun of you in the beginning before she developed feelings, and whenever Val or Vox bring it up to tease her about it, she winces.
Yeah....not something she's proud of now that she actually likes you and is dating you.
But once she gets past that hump, she's pretty accomodating...sometimes a little too much even.
But her heart is in the right place.
The easiest way she accomodates you is having a lot of conversations over text. Which isn't even an adjustment for her.
Plus it means she can re-read all your sweet words to cheer her up when Val fucks up her best model again. She thinks the world would be more peaceful is someone just fucking castrated him or something...
One of the ways she tries to be helpful and sweet to you but actually makes it worse is when you're trying to talk in a group of people, and when you start to have trouble, sometimes someone just starts to talk over you to move the conversation along.
And then she frowns, cocking her hips to the side with her hands on them.
"Uh? Excuse me. He wasn't done talking, yeah?" She shuts them up, giving you back the floor as your cheeks flush.
But now all the attention is on you and it makes it worse.
But her heart is in the right place, like I said.
She also doesn't care about the social awkwardness.
In her words "Doesn't matter how you are in real life, no one has to know if you don't post it online."
Plus, you're with her. She's plenty adept enough to navigate any social situations you have trouble with.
She's a bit tired of Vox talking over you while you all sat around and had cocktails with dinner. She knows it's in his nature, but that doesn't piss her off any less whenever she sees you sigh and give up on trying to say whatever it is you were trying to say.
"Oy, Box Brain! I know you love the sound of hearing yourself talk, but how about you let someone else get a word in edgewise, yeah?" She's not even trying to hide her annoyance and Vox just rolls his eyes.
"Don't you fucking roll your eyes at me! I'll start fucking up the signal of all your broadcasts if you don't shut the fuck up and let someone else talk!" She's getting just a bit more heated now, narrowing her eyes. You grimace and lean over, placing a hand on her arm to try and show that it's really okay. You loved that she fought so passionately for you...but not everything needed to be a battle.
Vox leans forward himself now, while Valentino just leans back, blowing out smoke and enjoying the show with an amused grin on his face. You certainly couldn't count on him to break this up.
"You wouldn't dare." Vox says with narrowed eyes himself, face closer to hers, and she snaps back at him without thinking.
"Did I fucking stutter?!"
Valentino is the first one to register the hilarity of what slipped out of Velvette's mouth, and he's almost spilling his cocktail from laughing so hard. It's only when he starts laughing that she realizes what she said and feels embaressment wash over her as she turns to you with wide eyes.
"Babes, I didn't mean-"
But you stop her before she can finish, smiling assuringly at her and rubbing her arm.
"I-It's okay....You gotta a-admit...It was pr-pretty funny." You laugh a bit yourself, and only when she sees you laugh does the tension leave her shoulders. She still feels embaressed...but at least you weren't upset.
"Hey, stop fucking laughing you two. It wasn't that funny." Velvette grumbles, hiding her face behind her cocktail as she takes a sip, feeling you press a kiss to her cheek to try and make her feel better as Vox and Valentino continue to enjoy Velvette's mistake.
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arttsuka · 19 hours
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2024 vs 2019-21
I really did design this a few months after I actually got into star trek for the first time. I don't know if the difference is as big but I feel much more comfortable with my style now. Rant under the cut.
Star trek was one of the first big fandoms I consciously started looking into. It had a special connection to me.
The first star trek thing I ever watched was the 2009 movie, although I didn't watch it in 2009 and I was far too young either way, I was too bored to read subtitles (English is not my native language). A few years passed and in 2017 I watched star trek beyond. I loved the characters but something was missing? Then I started digging into the fandom. I watched the other 2 aos movies, started looking up fanart. In 2018 I started watching tos for the first time. I never actually finished that watch, some episodes from seasons 1 and 2 and the majority of season 3 left without me touching them at all (I was watching on Netflix and like, I love(d) Spock so I usually just skipped episodes without him in them, don't judge me). In 2019, summer, I started watching the old movies (while watching the 4th one I has a very bad toothache but the movie made me feel better until I inevitably went to the dentist). I also didn't get to watch all the movies, the 5th half watched and the 6th not at all (but I do want to watch all 6 this year, let's see how that goes). Then the pandemic happened, I started rewatching my favorite episodes (the naked time, the devil in the darkness, amok time etc). I don't remember exactly when but I did watch some tas episodes too (don't remember much, only the vibes). Last year (2023) I did a full actual rewatch of tos.
If course I was reading fanfiction too at the time, the first big fanfic I've ever read was a star trek fic. I was looking at fanart and I wanted to draw too but the problem was, I couldn't figure out how to draw these characters. I was copying other styles hoping I'll find mine (it didn't work but it helped me improve I think). I have some of these early Spock drawings from 2019 but I don't know if they'll ever see the light of day. Making Spock as a pony was the only logical solution at the time. It was easy, I was familiar with mlp enough to make sense of it and also I love drawing animals. So this design was born. Over the years I just stopped drawing the gloss on his hair but the overall design didn't change.
If you couldn't guess I love drawing wings so I think this is where the most improvement lies. But I do think the anatomy is better as well.
I'm not reading all that, so let's hope I didn't make any mistakes while writing it (I'm not good at writing so there're definitely mistakes in here :| ).
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lena-in-a-red-dress · 23 hours
Text
Blue and Fire Engine Red, Pt 6 (smexy times ahead)
To Kara’s surprise, steak dinner happens at Lena’s apartment. From how little Lena has shared so far, she’d expected to wait weeks or months to see where Lena lives. It’s not until she arrives that Kara realizes exactly why Lena is so willing to let Kara into her inner sanctum. 
It’s completely void of personality.
Well, Kara allows, it could be that a lack of personality could be a personality in itself. And there are photos, but they all feature Lena and her crew. All smiling– all recent. Nothing to suggest Lena had a life before National City. She spies a punching bag in one corner, but the rest of the furniture is worn and basic, suggesting the place had come pre-furnished by a landlord who didn’t particularly care about aesthetics. It’s spartan and plain– forthright in a way that actually fits Lena. Still…
Kara wishes the space could have given her a better look at Lena’s inner life. 
The kitchen, at least, is functional enough. Enough that Lena is able to season and sear her steaks to perfection, with some fresh asparagus sauteeing on a side burner. And she does it all with a smile, chatting with Kara as well as she had on the way home. A capable multitasker, Kara notes, though it’s less than surprising. 
Lena seems incapable of being incapable at anything. 
The meal is served up on non-descript plates– at least they’re ceramic and not paper, and Lena does lower the overhead lights to set the mood. Kara moans when the first bite of steak hits her tongue. Moist and savory and perfectly seasoned, it puts anything she herself could have made to shame. The asparagus is also perfectly softened without being mushy, retaining enough of its texture to allow for a bit of a crunch at the center. 
“Are you sure the Army didn’t put you on the chow line? This is delicious!” Kara groans. 
Lena smirks, taking a sip of her wine. “You think ‘chow’ tastes like this?” An arch eyebrow dispels that notion. “Nah. Not so much.”
“Well, wherever it comes from, color me amazed and impressed.”
Kara takes another large–too large– bite, and has to spend several quiet moments chewing her way through it. When she swallows– still too large– she tilts her head. 
“Is there anything you’re not good at?”
Lena’s eyes warm with mirth, but takes a moment to consider.
“Jumping rope.” Lena shrugs. “I hate it. Can’t stand it.”
“But you can do it?”
Lena waves away the answer. 
“Then it doesn’t count!” 
Lena laughs. “Alright, alright… um. Okay. I can’t draw to save my life.”
It’s a surprisingly candid answer. “Really?”
Lena nods. “Any required art classes were passed on charm alone.”
Kara grins. Lena eyes her suspiciously. 
“What?” 
For a moment, they play a game of silent chicken as Kara waits for Lena to say the words, and Lean waits for Kara to confess what she already suspects. Finally, Lena caves.
“You’re an artist, aren’t you.”
Kara laughs, tickled by the suspicion at odds with the twinkle in Lena’s eye. “Maybe…” she draws out, unable to help the taunt. She relents when Lena’s eyebrow climbs dangerously close to her hairline. “Okay, fine. Yeah. I am. Kind of. At least, I was.”
“You were?” 
“Not much opportunity to flex my brush skills on a cop’s schedule,” she deflects, unwilling to dull the mood with the somber reality. If Lena suspects the deeper reason, she gives no indication. 
Instead, she tilts her head. “Well, I’d like to see some of your work, sometime.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” Lena confirms. “If you’re willing to share, of course. No pressure.” She takes another sip of her wine. “I just know that anything you do would be amazing.”
Lena’s voice is low and throaty, and Kara senses the shift to a mood far more intimate than playful banter. “In that case, you would be right,” Kara confirms, leaning forward across the table. “Play your cards right, and I’ll prove it to you. Again.”
“Uh uh,” Lena returns, leaning to meet Kara midway across the table. She pecks a tantalizing kiss to Kara’s lips. “Tonight is my turn to go first.”
“Oooh,” Kara purrs. “I don’t mind the sound of that.”
She plays a light drumroll on Lena’s ass as she clears the dishes, which only receive a quick rinse before being forgotten in the sink. Lena’s attention turns to Kara, who feels the weight of her focus like a planar shift. The rest of the world ceases to exist, narrowing to the two of them alone.
They haven’t even reached the threshold of Lena’s bedroom before warm lips caress the skin of her neck. Her flesh prickles with goosebumps, a frisson of desire coursing through her. She wants this, and the flutter of nerves in her belly only heightens her anticipation. She’s never wanted anything– or anyone– as much as she wants this, wants Lena. She doesn’t know what Lena has in store for her, and doesn’t quite know how her body will react to her ministrations. If her current arousal is anything to go by, Kara suspects she might not survive what’s to come. And she’s perfectly fine with that.
Lena guides her with gentle hands to sit on the edge of the bed. For a moment, Kara thinks she’ll sit on her lap, like the last time on her couch. But instead, Lena lays her back, leaning over her with a muscled arm holding her up.
“Tell me what you want,” Lena murmurs between slow languid kisses. Kara whimpers into her mouth, making Lena’s lips curl in a smile against hers. “That’s not an answer, love.”
For a moment, Kara struggles to think, but Lena doesn’t relent in her ministrations. It takes long minutes of nearly losing herself in the sensations before she manages to conjure her wish.
“Let’s go slow.” she murmurs.
Lena pauses immediately, but Kara keeps her from pulling away by cupping her cheek. Lena gazes into her eyes, studying her to understand the meaning behind her words. Then, slowly, a low fire sparks deep in her gaze.
“How slow, exactly,” she asks, low and silky.
Kara lifts her chin to kiss her. “As slow as possible.”
Nodding her understanding, Lena runs a velvet touch up under Kara’s shirt; slow enough to count each and every rib. “And where would you like to start?”
Breath hitching when Lena hits a sensitive spot just under Kara’s breast, Kara tries to blink her way to at least partial coherency. 
“Do you have a vibrator?” she gasps.
Lena nods, nuzzling Kara’s ear. “Excellent idea, darling.”
Finally, Kara releases herself to the experience. Lena takes her time with her, going deliciously slow as she raises Kara’s shirt by inches, kissing every exposed bit skin on her way. Not just kissing. Licking, nibbling, suckling. She lingers on Kara’s breasts, brushing her thumbs over pebbled nipples as she diverts back to Kara’s lips. 
Slowly but surely, Kara’s skin heats with pleasure. But when her breath starts to quicken, Lena draws herself away. Without Lena’s body heat against her, chill air washes over her, making her groan. She squeezes her eyes shut in frustration.
“Now, now,” Lena tsks. “I want you to watch.”
Kara’s eyes fly open, and she props herself up on her elbows to watch as Lena unbuttons the fly of her jeans. Her fingers dip beneath her waistband, and Kara’s breath goes ragged in her chest. But just as smoothly as they slide under, they slip back out, and Lena shimmies out of her pants. 
She kicks them aside as soon as she steps out of them, and Kara is left to ogle smooth, tones legs. Lena may not match Kara for height, but her legs are long and packed with muscle. Kara’s mouth goes dry.
“Jesus fucking christ,” Kara mutters. 
Lena saunters closer, a satisfied smirk on her face. “Well, hopefully he won’t be the one fucking tonight.” 
She tilts Kara’s chin up. Kara lets her mouth gape, just enough for Lena to see the invitation and take it. Her tongue slides over Kara’s, then curls languorously up and along the roof of Kara’s mouth. She sucks against Kara’s upper lip as she withdraws, and Kara lists after her when she sits back on Kara’s knees. 
“Do you want to see more?” Lena croons.
Kara swallows thickly. “All of it,” she croaks. “I want to see all of you.”
Lena smiles, pleased with her response. She grips the hem of her shirt with her fingertips, and slowly begins to pull it up, up, up over her abdomen, her breasts, and finally her head. Dark hair flows through the neck opening, swishing around Lena’s bare shoulders. When Lena’s fingers move to her bra, all higher function vacates Kara’s brain. The little strip tease that follows sends bolts of arousal down through Kara’s core, pooling between her legs. Soon, only Lena’s underwear remains.
When Lena twists to deposit her bra on the pile with the rest of her abandoned clothing, Kara catches sight of a dark smudge on Lena’s ribs, but it flashes out of sight and out of mind when Lena turns her attention back to her. 
Thankfully, Lena makes quicker work of Kara’s own pants. Soon Kara is completely and enthusiastically nude, and Kara notes that Lena makes no mention of how wet she is. Kara’s glad for it– she suspects it will be her default state whenever Lena’s eyes take on this sort of glint. 
She jumps when the first rumble of the vibrator tickles the inside of her thigh. She inhales through her teeth, and is answered by a palm pressing flatly against her labia and clit. 
“Easy,” Lena coaxes. Her lips still smirk though. “Don’t want you getting worked up too soon, do we?”
The even pressure on her groin eases some of the edge that had been building within her, and she manages to take a breath that relieves any more. Even so, she knows that once Lena gets to work with the vibrator, she would be hard pressed to draw this out as long as she hoped she could.
Lena isn’t one to disappoint. She plays Kara like a fiddle, taking her tantalizingly close to edge after edge, before drawing her back down again and again. Her technique is expert– the vibrator seems to trace patterns everywhere but her clit. Her labia, her bikini line, even the bottom edge of her belly. Sometimes, when Kara lingers too long on one edge, a warm tongue soothes her clit, dulling the hungry ache.
“Hanging in there?” Lena checks in once Kara stops squirming. 
“Barely,” Kara gasps, panting. 
“You are so hot,” Lena purrs. “You’re doing so good.”
That alone almost almost pitches Kara over the precipice. She curls her fingers into the sheets, gritting her teeth. “Soon,” she warns.
“Just say the word, baby. I’ll get you there.”
Lena starts again, taking her time tracing more patterns around her ultimate destination. Slowly, inevitably, the pressure building to unprecedented heights. Kara’s never been attended to like this, never been read so plainly, so intuitively. It’s as though Lena has already memorized her body, chasing every sensitive part of her with expert precision until even the ebb aches as deliciously as the flow. 
When Lena brings the vibrator closer to her clit than she has so far, Kara cracks. 
“Now!” she gasps.
The vibrator has hardly touched her clit when Kara hurtles over. She can’t help the cry that escapes her, loud and long and desperate. She’s never made a sound like this before. She doesn’t realize Lena hasn’t moved the vibrator before she’s tipping into a second orgasm, then a third. The last lingers for long, long seconds and only then do the vibrations cease.
The whine that Kara issues is inhuman to her own ears, but Lena only chuckles as she climbs up to check on her.
“Still conscious?” 
Kara grunts plaintively, as her fingers slowly release the sheets. 
“That was– whoah!”
Lena’s exclamation is swallowed by Kara’s mouth on hers, lunging for a kiss before full conscious thought has even returned. Lena melts into it, letting the kiss deepen and last until Kara is the one to break it. 
“Amazing,” she finishes Lena’s sentence for her. “That was amazing. You’re amazing.”
Lena’s cheeks flush under the praise. “And you,” she returns, “are a glutton for punishment. You lasted longer than I thought you would. Much longer.” She licks Kara’s upper lip so sensually, it almost makes Kara ask for another round. Almost. “Good girl.”
Kara sighs. “I don’t know if I can return the favor,” she confesses. It kills her to say it, but she barely feel her toes. Lena laughs. “I’m sorry…”
“Please,” Lena dismisses, still laughing. “That’s possibly the greatest compliment I’ve ever gotten.”
Kara blinks. “Ever?”
“Ever,” Lena confirms. She smiles, her eyes warm and full of comfort as she gazes down at Kara. “How about an early night then?”
A sigh escapes Kara. “That sounds…”
“Amazing?” Lena teases.
“Yeah,” Kara confirms contentedly. “Amazing.”
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entroart · 1 day
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Hi there, just a few things
Hi, I'm an artist, and I'm plural too :3. Or at least, I think I am? It's complicated. There's a lot of denial all the time.
You don't have to say anything that you don't want to of course, and answer in as much or as little detail as you'd like to.
So my questions are like.
1) How has being plural affected your art journey?
Im asking this because I have really bad executive dysfunction, and find it extremely hard to actually do what I want to do, meaning not much art practise, but I know that my other alters don't have it as badly.
2) How is your system communication? How did you make it better if its good.
Our communication is very.... poor. There's 3 definite alters, including me, and maybe a couple more, but I never hear about them so idk. Either way, even between just the three of us, I almost never hear anything from the other two. Apparently they have better communication between each other, but idk how true that is cus I can't really ask them.
3) Can you visualise things? I have aphantasia, and it makes me need a lot more references for when I am occasionally able to bring myself to draw. I'm interested to know how it works without that inhibition.
Thank you very much for reading, I love your art and wish all of you the best. <3
Question Barrage!! 1. Well to be fair is mostly everyone doing their thing. Bridget is trying to learn how to art to help me so thats nice (lemme show her progress)
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Other alters also draw, for example Abyss that tends to do fruits
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Or one of our littles Chain that did art yesterday
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So each alter different art and stuff, I think thats how I can answer that question. 2. Our communication is alright, we can talk to each other easily and dont need to write for that, so in that regards fine 3. Yes, we can see a 3D image and rotate it (shit is frustrating cuz then not being able to properly draw makes me feel horrible)
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I've got one: an Adam that can SEE soulmates. He grins nastily as he takes a GOOD LONG look at Alastor and SMIRKS "Vox, huh? You love him, hmm? I can see it written right on your disgusting soul Al-ass-tor. Annnnd even better he's your soulmate. I kill him, I cause you unimaginable pain and suffering for eternity without touching you." And then he takes off, leaving Lute and his army to take care of the hotel--who HEARD HIM to search for Vox.
The Vees are in full out panic mode, of course. They have no idea what to do. Vox say he can carry both Val and Vel through the electricity but they need a location to go too--abd the vacation home is too far, he doesn't have the juice.
Valentino is pissed at Vox for being Alastor's soulmate, and panicking about the certain death heading their way.
Velvette doesn't care: "Take us as far as you can to the vacation home and we can steal a car!"
Alastor is RAGING. How DARE that pompous f-wit threaten what is HIS?!? (Although he is pleased Adam did announce Vox was his too all of Hell. Now no one would dare try to date Vox after he killed the moth.)
(Feel free to use :3)
Thank you anon because I definitely WILL be taking this.
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No really this is good, honestly you anons are helping write the best voxal fanfic with me as well speak. I think after I finish my current writing coms today then I'll start on this story. It honestly sounds really fun and I'm a bit of a slow burn kinda gal with a passion for angst so this is definitely up my alley.
The idea of Adam coming in? Mwah!
Like imagine the way Alastor freezes the moment Adam says that stuff about going after Vox and especially before Vox finds himself having to defend the vees. Bro doesn't even know what's going on at first and that he's basically one of the reasons it's happening. Imagine his shock if Alastor does hunt him down before the angels get there, both confusion AND relief showing on his face just to see Alastor. Though there's also annoyance.
"ugh! I could have handle a few angels Alastor!" He growls after Alastor grabs them after fighting and imagine something like after Alastor saves them he and Vox are having this argument just for Vox to stop when it seems Alastor did in fact take some damage.
"a few isn't tons Vox." Alastor would most like his back while cradling a wound and Vox might as well be the one to help him clean it up, matter of fact he has too because everyone is rather fearful of the pair. Alastor doesn't want anyone to deal with the wound like a stubborn dog unless it's Vox and this could leave them a lot of time just to sit with each other. It's silent as Vox carefully cleans his wounds, gentle and careful not to do anything that would hurt even more and then as he's looking over Alastor's body he'll glare at nothing halfheartedly, brows burrowed in confusion and annoyance.
"why'd you do something so stupid?" He'll ask and I can see Alastor's ear twitching. Vox basically asks him what's his problem. Why'd he go out there to fight so many angels and over HIM of all people? He's both flattered and a bit unnerved.
If Alastor really did all that to help him then maybe he SHOULD go back to the hotel just to keep an eye on Alastor's healing though maybe it's just a way to get closer because though Vox being Alastor's soul mate is life changing on his own, knowing and seeing Alastor after such a fight and touching his wounds really manages to draw Vox in. Like he wants to be with Alastor in the same bed and everything as he heals.
I wanna say Alastor will heal with no issue but imagine a case where he doesn't. Where the angel blades hold off his healing for just long enough to where Vox is actually worried over the other man.
This could be an interesting part to rebuild their connection. Seeing Alastor almost die while showing Hell that Vox BELONGS TO HIM really makes the TV demon flustered and more than he's ever been before. (Vox likes knowing Alastor is possessive enough to literally have a battle of his own with heaven. It makes him feel special and more than he ever has before)
I'd like to say this situation really convinces Vox but with their history he's worried about getting too close even though he wants to.
He's scared of falling in love with Alastor because what it its 'not the right time' again?
Vox is definitely an over thinker in this case, will sit through the healing process for Alastor but maybe he finds Alastor's words to be a fluke? Did he really mean it? Yeah he almost DIED but he couldn't possibly- he definitely means it.
They've had their history but Vox is a runner now and Alastor wants to chase him. After all, who could know him better than his old friend and whether Vox likes it or not no one would DARE (especially after the shocking announcement that they are soulmates) take Alastor's destined spot in his life.
I honestly love these ideas and I have many myself, keep em coming y'all!
- A
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Anonymous asked: I have a firm grasp on my characters, but I'm having trouble actualizing themes and character arcs into the story. My hero and villain have mirrored problems, both feeling trapped into behaving as others expect them to be, even at the detriment of their own happiness. Both wear "masks" to appear as they think they should be seen, but they're both able to see past each other's masks when no one else can. Their mirrored arcs are about putting aside others expectations and choosing to embrace their true selves, and in time, one another. How can I tie themes of identity, reputation, and appearances into themes, plot points, obstacles, etc. How can I turn these abstract ideas into solidly shaped themes, symbols, and plot points?
[Ask edited for length...]
It seems like your themes are solid... identity, reputation, expectations of others, and appearances. And you say you have a firm grasp on your characters. One thing you don't mention is your story's conflict, and I don't know if that's because it just didn't feel relevant or because your story doesn't really have one. So let's start there.
Even if your story is fully character-driven, there needs to be a conflict. Or, in other words, a problem that the protagonist is trying to solve. Without a conflict, there's nowhere for your story to go and nothing for your characters to do. It's very hard to draw abstract ideas of themes into a plot if you don't have a conflict against which to pin those themes.
So, before you worry about themes, symbols, and specific plot points, start with your conflict. Conflict can be internal (in the character's heart and mind), external (in the character's world), or both.
Here are some questions to help you work through it:
1 - What problem (conflict) has occurred in your protagonist's self, life, or world that they must now solve?
2 - How does the villain tie into this problem? Did they create the problem or allow it to be created? Are they fanning the flames of a problem that didn't initially involve them? Or are they trying to solve the problem, too, and simply have an opposing resolution/goal to the protagonist's?
3 - What obstacles does the villain create to thwart the protagonist's ability to reach their goal/solve the problem as planned?
4 - How does the protagonist overcome or work around these obstacles?
5 - How does this back and forth cause them to interact?
6 - How does the protagonist's reputation affect how and why they want to resolve the problem?
7 - How does the villain's reputation affect how and why they want to create the problem/fan the flames/solve the problem their own way/thwart the protagonist from resolving the problem?
8 - How would the protagonist and villain do things differently if their reputations weren't at stake?
9 - As the protagonist works toward reaching their goal/resolving the problem, overcoming obstacles along the way, what specific things can happen as a result (particularly due to interactions with each other) that helps these characters start to see the folly of forcing themselves to live up to others' expectations to their own detriment?
10 - As these characters move through the story, what can you do to make the "mask" identities start to slip, especially in relation to one another? What things can happen when they're in each other's presence that shows them they're both experiencing a similar problem? What things can happen that allow them to "see" each other and be able to say (or at least think) "hey, I get it... I know what this feels like. It's like this for me, too"?
11 - What are some plot relevant things that can happen that puts one or both characters in a situation where they are "putting on appearances" to meet others' expectations, but allows them to contemplate their discomfort and unhappiness as a result of having to do this?
12 - What are some elements you can think of that might symbolize your themes? For example, if these characters went to a masquerade ball, their masks can serve as symbolism for the figurative masks they have to wear to meet the expectations of others. Or, more subtly, maybe one of these characters lives in a grand estate, but it turns out only entry hall, dining room, and ballroom are grandly decorated and well kept. The rest of the state (where visitors never go), is more humble, informal, and comfortable. This would be symbolic of something (a grand estate) appearing to be something on the surface that it isn't when you look deeper.
I hope that helps!
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