#don't mind the images i'm just having fun

[overtaken-stream]

Sweets Full Of Lies

Sanji x F!Reader

``I think you stole something from me.``

``I stole something?``

This doesn't need a warning, this happens after the drum island and It's just tooth-rotting fluff for me and me only, be grateful I'm sharing my Pookie with all of you😤

The sky is captivating, gleaming, and full of wonder as it overlooks the reflective sea below, each star lit with passion is moving along the calm waves that are dragging behind The Going Marry, gently slanting the ship to its tastes.

The watch tonight is beautiful as the cure for the country's heart dims on the horizon, scattering pink cherry blossoms across the dark and endless ocean, each piece lightens the midnight, giving hue to a brand-new kingdom.

The scenery is getting further yet, the cherry blossoms follow after the ship, leaving no space for a threat too small.

The chilly atmosphere grows distant as the island strays and the crow's nest feels ever desolate in this bitter aftermath. If it wasn't for the subtle footsteps making their way up to your location in this stillness, you would have slacked off.

A nice scent of roasted baby potatoes entices your nose as a pleased sigh leaves you, slacking off indeed.

Crows nest is not made for two people, yet, with intense and swift maneuvers he lets the plates holding the delicious food dangle on his palms, your pupils follow them, until he brings the right one near your face. You spare him and grab the food, digging in with vigor, among the bites you let out a satisfied hum.

``This is delicious Sanji!`` Delicious as always, one can taste the love and passion through the spices and the warmth of the meal.

His voice volume dismisses the late hour of the night.

``Really?! Thank you (Y/N)-chwan~♡`` Sanji sure appreciates compliments from a lady, maybe a little too much. Though you don't mind his swooning, it's certainly fun to see him become overly affectionate and energetic, a considerable change compared to his interactions with the male members of the crew.

``Thank you too, Sanji.``

After you, Sanji turns to his plate, staring into the view that brought the night chill. He doesn't waste any time as he bites into the hot meal. The silence is welcome among the stars, shining bright from the dark horizon. The obscurity brings peace, the comfort of knowing little and needing no more.

The time is but an illusion as the meal on both plates shrinks until it's consumed with no remains left. Calm is not addressed between you two, finding peace in each other's presence in enough, no words are needed.

Binoculars rest on the floor, unused, but no amount of enlargement of distant images could find the reasonable explanation for the bravery brewing as you stare at the side profile of a blond. The soft features and the clean skin mix well with the pink undertones. You know he is handsome.

You're sure most would agree to that statement. Perhaps that's the thought that picks the simple, sweet, and corny line out of your teeth. It pierces the silent atmosphere.

``Sanji.`` You watch as he turns. The dim blue eye answering your curiosity. At first glance, the cook appears yellow or black, depending on the individual. However, you'd say his soul is the color of roses, with shades of light and hot pink mixing with his pale outer layer. Yet, you can hear a green-haired man argue that his inner soul is but a burning red and orange at the back of your mind. The color of blood on the tip of a silver knife he handles with ease.

You find yourself seeing all three views. Sanji is all of them. You don't seem to mind.

You watch that eye blink twice before opening your mouth.

``... I think you stole something from me.`` You find yourself craving that shade of blush that only appears on his face whenever a compliment is given to him by a woman. You want to see the pink blush appear on that ear once more tonight, it would be such a beautiful sight next to the falling cherry blossom petals.

You watch as Sanji takes in what you said. His baby blue lights up with curiosity and focus. He thinks about what he could have stolen as he goes through the memories of today, only to come up blank.

``I stole something...?`` The confusion settles as a smile appears on your face. The man appears oblivious to your deep emotion. The wicked hidden-entertainment. He can not distinguish the extra twist added to your lips.

``I think you stole my heart, Mr. Cook.`` There's a moment of silence that's quite loud, it stretches for a while as you stare at Sanji's widened eyes, you would have compared them to dinner plates if it weren't for the fallen cigarette, that you stomped and made sure to put out. (Can't forget to pick it up later!)

His reaction is not something you've expected. The frozen state as he gazes at you is new. The blank eyes speak of such a shock that you are not sure it could be considered as an emotion, rather a process of doubting oneself, the reality, and the life itself. You're thankful it doesn't last because soon the man you are familiar with, returns.

Sanii who closes his mouth and lets the pink petals land on his head, shining and adorning him with pink light. The blush that arises on his cheeks is shy, the pupil holding a small heart as love colors the iris. Eye round and sunken, Sanji seems small, his body unmoving as he gazes at you. Tongue dripping with romance.

``...I did...?`` You didn't know that a voice could be described as small. It's almost enough to shock you into silence.

Lightly, you bite your lip. You should know better by now.

Your mouth moved. It spoke in a tone you are unfamiliar with, almost like in a trance, addicted to a man much like candy, so sweet and sugar-coated. Your face must be red too, but it can't compare to the flustered Sanji standing in front of you, lighting up in shades more intense.

Cute.

Hopeful, he felt hopeful. The smell of fright coming off of him, is thin.

Shit. You might just devour him tonight.

#If sanji has no fans im dead. #one piece #sanji x reader #sanjionepiece #one piece sanji #anime #fuck the vinsmokes #sanji x you #sanji x y/n #sanji fluff #sanji x reader fluff #sanji #black leg sanji #.my writing. #sanji x female reader

[myfandomprompts]

Hi, would you be willing to do any more Headcanons with Ewan's characters?

I thought about something like this, how each of Ewan's characters would react and act if he (the character) really liked the reader (I mean on a level of suffering for love), but the reader didn't reciprocate those feelings.

Hi anon! Of course, here we go:

Unreciprocated Love reaction - Ewanverse Headcanons

Abraham:

He had set his eyes on you, it would be easy winning you over. But he hadn't expected the reader to refuse him, and he hadn't expected his infatuation to develop into extreme fixation. Suddenly when you're not around, he needs to know where you are, what you’re doing, with who. He hates not knowing. You don’t like him? Then maybe he’ll make you see that he is the only one for you.

Aemond:

He does not often fall in love, and he doesn't accept failure, so he must be certain his feelings are reciprocated. When it's clear it's not, he bids his time, denies his enragement to the world and waits for you to have no choice but to fall in his arms. You will eventually, he is sure of it, he had never stepped down to a challenge, and you're the greatest of them all, he needs to have you.

Billy Taylor:

Is sullen for months. It had taken so much time for him to gather the courage to confess, to tell you how much he cares about you. And it was all for disappointment. He doesn’t think his young heart can take it, and he doesn’t think it will ever heal either. Starts to pick up things you leave behind to collect them, because it reminds him of you.

Billy Washington:

Absolutely crushed. But he isn't even surprised, he never had any luck in life, so having someone like you love him back would have been too good to be true. He tells himself he will be fine, get over it, but it doesn’t. It hurts when he learns you’ve gone out with one of his friends two days after he confessed and it hurts more that he has to see you everyday. He starts to be mean to his friend, real mean and soon he is afraid he’ll lose it in front of you. He can’t stand it.

Ettore:

He doesn’t really understand the feeling, this sensation in his stomach when he looks at you but he knows he wants more. He has to obey his body, because it feels so good, and refusal is not an option. He won’t get angry, he won’t be violent, but he will stalk, and he will watch. At first. Then it’s just you and your incessant habit to ignore him and he can’t take it anymore. He has to do something about it. He’s just not sure you’ll like it.

Genyen:

He knows his flirting technique isn’t perfect, but he at least expected something, some semblance of interest. Not indifference on your part and then complete avoidance. He admits that hooking up with one of their friends out of spite was not one his smartest moves, but at least he discovered from the jealous expression on your face that you might care after all. He’ll make you regret it at some level.

Michael Gavey:

He knows there is no chance you like him back, no chance you would even consider it. But he can't help but ask one day. He had to, it drove him crazy: how he thinks about you every single hour of the day as well as during his waking hours at night, how every time he sees you he has a cold sweat. It falters his focus far more than he allows himself to, and he has to do something about it. But the rejection hurt more than any others, and now he just has to try and not being a fucking creep about you until he finished uni. Easier said than done.

Osferth:

He doesn’t even know what to answer to Finan and Sithric when they ask him why he is sad all the time. How could he admit that it’s because he had suffered the greatest heartbreak of his life? How can he explain that he doesn’t feel like he couldn't live happily if he does not see you everyday, get to be close to you, talk to you. He wishes he could forget you ever existed. Maybe God will grant him this wish. But it's just a silly hope, and he is cursed to watch you from afar.

Tom Bennett:

Pretend he would get over it soon. Tells himself that you were "too good" for him anyway. But then time passes and he doesn't feel like this for anyone else but you, so he starts to unconsciously live his life around you. He thinks he will grow out of it eventually, but it doesn't. The disappointment makes him crave for what he would have had if he was with you, but despite the frustration he doesn't let it bring him down. Tom Bennett is never discouraged after all, and he will continue being his charming self with you whenever he can.

Will:

He tries. He really tries to let go and move on but knowing you don't feel the same is gnawing at him. Eventually he starts to feel angry, all the time and he blames you first, then himself. You were so nice to him, and now you act cold and distant. Soon there is only one thought in his head: he has to fix it.

#ewan mitchell #will salad days #headcanon #prompts #ewan nation #ewanverse #abraham grantchester #aemond targaryen #michael gavey #billy washington #billy taylor #tom bennett #genyen #genyen bbc #bbc doctors #don't mind the images i'm just having fun #headcanons

[icewindandboringhorror]

There's always a slight yearning in the back of my mind wishing I had been born in the right place, time, family situation, income level, etc. to have just lived in one single house for my entire life. Imagine being born in a place that still suits you, even through all of your personal evolutions and etc. The idea of deep familiarity with an area because you've lived and explored it for 40+ years, being encased in a web of memories and connections. Being able to clean out your old childhood bedroom and find personal artifacts, to dig in the yard and remember. I know those lives can still be plenty imperfect, but there's just something so seemingly solid and stable and Grounding about it that I sometimes wish I could have.. (At least from my outside perspective as someone who's moved around a bit geographically and even within the same area, never lives in the same house/ apartment /etc. for more than a few years usually.) Like... having a place that is printed upon, fully your own, rather than chronically a visitor, every thought of a space always tempered with the notion that one day soon you'll have to pack it all up again, etc. There's something peaceful about the permanence.

#I think also because I'm a very nostalgic person - THOUGH not in the way that somep poeple mean when they say nostalgia because I've realiz #ed that to some people apparently it means like.. more of a sad emotional thing? Or when I talk about being nostalgic they say 'me too' and #then describe how they're always depressed dwelling on the past wishing they could revisit it and replaying it and feeling sad and etc. #Whereas for me - it's not in a deep or emotional way at all. It's very detached - kind of like someone who is doing like a scientific #cataloguing of something? I don't feel any remorse or sadness or longing or sitting there sobbing for hours over people/pets I've lost or #etc. It's more like a fun contemplative excercise and extension of self analysis plus just documentation. Like I know your memory fades as #you get older OR even as stuff is actively ongoing humans have terrible recall - even the ones who are less emotional/more focused on #accuracy our minds still twist things or etc. SO I looove to have documentations of everything possible so that in the future I will have #as full and complete of a view of myself as I possibly can. sure the image will undoubtedly be a little distorted but having real evidence #of how something was at a time is very valuable. You look through old messages or letters or something and you always find other alternate #versions of yourself. Not in a worse way like inherently inferior Previous Models Of You who haven't yet been perfected but even just in a #neutral way like 'what they're saying is not a BAd thing but also is not how I would say that today.' etc. ANYWAY I find it really interest #ing to document and remember things and love revisiting the past - not in a sad way - but just like. curiosity. reminiscing and recalling #and filling in gaps. or trying to have the same feeling I felt at a previous time so I can remember what it was. Collecting information for #documentation purposes. Like for example - I would love to go back and tour all of my old childhood houses/apartments. Not to like #sit in the middleof them and cry and go 'ohhh my childhood waughhh' - but literally because I want to take detailed photographs so I #can remeber exatly what they looked like and recreate them in sims or some other digital way. Why? idk. just to gather the information. If #I ever live to like 80 years old and I'm still reflecting on my life curious about the dteails of it. I want to be able to fire up my #ancient windows 10 laptop I've kept all these years and open up the sims 4 and tour my old home with accuracy etc. ?? #Not sure why really. Maybe an extension of how I generally care a lot about having an 'accurate' view of things? Like I would rather be #accurate than be happy. I don't understand 'ignorance is bliss' because I would always rather know. I always always in any situation am mor #focused on 'what is the well researched practical truth' than about 'how does this make me feel' or etc. Truth above ALL else even if it #were to make me miserable. Aka why I'm a 'boring' 'annoying' 'UM actually..' type of killjoy lol because it's very hard for me to understan #that some people can enjoy something or have a good time even not knowing the full facts of a situation or etc. BUT anyway. since that is #some core driver of my personality for whatever reason (just the plague of ennegram type 5 perhaps lol) maybe that also drives me to my #kind of minor obsession with like 'I must have a complete view and calatoguing of my life that is as accurate as possible within the means #i have' . Is it REALLY important for me to know the exact layout of on of my first childhood bedrooms? no. materially it does nothing for m #in life. BUT hey. it would make a great addition to the Accurate Life Story Catalogue lol. ANYWAY.. But I think a lot of wanting to live in #one place forever is not just the ease of documentation. but the sense of having a constant. Much of what i crave most in life is stability #& familiarity &routine bc of how my brain works. And it just would feel so good to be Settled. Never uproot again. One little place FOREVER

[salsflore]

ummmm

#oh mika there is beauty in life~ look at your future! everything will be worth it in the end~ #my favorite image on this device btw ^ #cw negative #cw vent #you know where this is going. apologies my mind is a mess and i really just need to get it out because i find its better than- #-writing a semi formal email to that One (1) emotional support organization and i’m afraid to make a call so #but i just genuinely believe things would be better off if i weren’t alive. a bit of a silly thing to jump to i know but #my tuition fees aren't cheap and i'm not even that great of a student or a daughter or a sister and i- #-have no talents or remarkable feats. i’m not impressive in any way. and i hate hearing shit about how ^_^ its okay! we all have something- #-special about ourselves! for example maybe you have really good hand writing and thats good enough ~ but that doesn't work for me because- #-i have nothing. my handwriting isn't good my singing isn't good i'm not artistically gifted i don't have some random affinity for puzzles- #-i'm not charming or somehow really good at calculation or super creative or a really comforting friend i really have nothing at all #i don’t want to die. i have no plans on doing that sort of thing anytime soon— don’t misunderstand me #i just wholeheartedly believe i don’t deserve to be here anymore not because i’m not loved. i just can’t stand myself and my teenage years- #-feel so long and i'm so fragile how much longer do i have to tolerate. i'm contributing nothing. why should my family have to feed and- #-clothe a burden like me who provides nothing. why should my friends care for someone like me. i’m not really that funny or sweet or great- #-with advice giving or pretty or helpful in any way. why is it that life is genuinely easier for others. what did i do? what can i do? #how much longer must i tolerate this? would you believe me if i said i really did try to change my mindset this time? #i have no one in real life to talk to. therapists are pricey and i don’t think mine was helping me in any way anyways. she was nice though #so every night i sleep hoping i wake up somewhere else. somewhere where i'm happier and i can live all my silly fantasies where i'm a fun- #-and lovely person who has everything she wants and nothing goes wrong ever!! #how much longer must i hang onto the little things. i’m in such an exruciating amount of pain that i want to kill myself without dying? lol #everyone repeats the same stuff. get bit #i can't rely on the joy of having coffee every morning or persevere for the sake of seeing cute cats on insta. nothing will ease the burden

[allexiaah]

i don’t think i can ever forgive anyone who didn’t wear a mask or vaccinate or take covid seriously after all of this shit not going to lie. after just now realizing i’ve lost two years to it. Two years of being a person, or going out and doing things I should’ve been doing as a kid free of responsibilities with other kids, and doing what little you even CAN do in a world where you can’t do jack shit without money. I already sat in front of a computer screen for way too long every day. Feel like I should still be in my second semester of high school after all of this. Don’t feel like I should’ve aged at all. I’m not good with memories in the first place (which is why i’m always taking pictures), and covid only made it worse. past two years have been a haze.

I don’t remember almost anything that happened, even when i think really hard about something i KNOW is there but can’t recall. I’m lucky if I remember it when someone else jogs my memory for me, even. I don’t remember good times spent with friends, or going for walks outside, or even a fuckton of school at all. I don’t feel like there are even years there, but there are and I can’t get them back. Time was already hard for me to grasp, but now I don’t know when I’ve done anything, and it fuckin hurts. it hurts. I feel

And now we’re getting Harmful Affliction 2: Monkeypox Edition, and nobody’s fucking taking it seriously! There’s no shortage of kids and teens like me who’ve lost a significant chunk of their lives, by the time they’re around old enough to go to school, to a pandemic, and are just now needing to walk into the world and know what the fuck they’re doing.

how is that okay? how is ANY of it okay?? How did nobody think for one fucking second about how much this would fuck us up? How did we not think this would last for years seeing the atrocious lack of action from ANYONE? How are we supposed to brush all of this off? there are kids in their developmental years who don’t know how to communicate because we haven’t been anywhere near each other for 2 years! except for, y’know, the pieces of shit who just COULDN’T FATHOM that and were the reason anyone with half a mind or any care for others at ALL were kept at home for years! I’m a now-adult with social anxiety that came LONG before covid, and probably has origins in a cult i was raised in for no shortage of time as a kid, but it’s been too long for me to know for sure. But this shit PREDATED covid for me. I can’t imagine there’s a lack of people who’ve lost literal YEARS of their lives to this and who don’t know how to pick up the pieces anymore or how they’re supposed to get better.

I don’t think I can ever describe to someone the kind of lonely and horrible it was to simply sit in the doorway to my room with a plate of food left outside my door or handed to me by family wearing masks just like I did any time I left it, listening to the rest of my family sing happy birthday to my sister at the dinner table downstairs, seeing the light from the dining room and a little bit of my mother from the doorway and nothing more, trying to sing along through a mask so I didn’t get anything in the air. I don’t think I can describe the kind of miserable it was to sit there with a birthday dinner that I couldn’t even taste, that had to be delivered because nobody was allowed to leave the house. I fucking RUINED my sister’s birthday, and it’s not like I went to a party or anything, or went out. It’s not even like it’s my fault. I went to school, I went home. I didn’t have much of a social life anyway. Transit or the school itself gave me covid. Even sanitizing and washing my hands after touching everything I could, and wearing a mask I never pulled down, not in class or ever, and doing the best i could? I still caught it. Even doing the best you can ask a human to do, I caught it. I can’t put into words how agonizing it was to be confined to one room for WEEKS, unable to leave for anything except to use the washroom across the hall. If you don’t think it’s that big of a deal? Try it yourself and see how long you can do it.

Back when they actually cared and still did close contact lists and all that, the person on the phone didn’t believe me when I told them I don’t go out. That I didn’t party or go out to see friends or go ANYWHERE outside of school. According to my mom, the person on the phone was in enough disbelief to ask HER after I said the exact same thing.

We’ve been living in a hell of ignorance’s creation for years now, and might be for years in the future, Or maybe we’re just not living at all. I feel like both apply.

I wish I could have those two years back, but i can’t have that. And it’s not even my fault that my friends and I can’t have them.

#allex rambles #vent #personal #please dont rb this lol #im just #god #was talking to my friend luna last night and remembering that i used to feel alive in spite of how horrible my depression was #and how school was. and how it all made it worse #what was usually on my mind was not knowing what the fuck im living for #and STILL i felt more alive then than i have in the past 2 years #It makes me want to cry and scream and throw shit #how was i supposed to feel like a kid when i was locked up for the past 2 years? #how am i supposed to feel like an adult now when I didn't get the opportunities i should've had or was too scared to kill myself or #my family with a virus that was fully capable of it to take advantage of those opportunities? #i already have shitty memory. that on its own terrifies me #i take photos of everything i do to try and keep a date and an image of the stuff i go out of my way to have fun doing. #because if i don't i'm terrified i'll forget. #knowing im forgetting mundane things and its like i might not have done them at all? #that it might be getting worse? #that's so fucking scary. #im only realizing now just how fucked up everything's been. i think i pushed it all back to cope at the time #and im only letting myself grieve and feel horrible now that i'm out of school and can afford to while im looking for a job #fuckssake.

[attleboy]

i thought too hard about insect motifs got a little silly and made... a lot lmao these versions of the characters are from @sm-baby's amazing digital carnival au!! full images and rambling about insect choices are gonna get stuck under the cut... it'll be a bit long and i will be putting photos of real bugs down there so be mindful

pomni: "butterfly"

inspirational species are black swallowtails mostly for the shape, and malay red harlequins mostly for the pattern

carnival pomni's actually the one that kickstarted this whole set... i drew her hat in a way that reminded me of butterflies, went "wait...", then i fully leaned into it :)

jax: "centipede"

there was no specific species for jax. without being able to use color, they were too similar to pick any out... i have included a giant centipede just for reference though since it was mainly larger centipedes i used for inspiration

anddd there's a little bonus sketch for how pre-sentience jax might've looked with a centipede outfit... he gets a bug scarf and some goggles!

ragatha: "ladybug"

inspirational species was the twice-stabbed ladybug chosen because the inverted color scheme looked the best out of all the ones i tried, and also because it's a metal name and we know ragatha's good with a knife... stabby stab... i did add more than two spots to the dress though, it just looks cooler lol

gangle: "spider"

inspiration was the spinybacked orb weaver which i was absolutely ecstatic to find because come on that is the perfect spider for gangle like look at it!! it looks like her mask, it's got red, it's got gold on the limbs, literally twinning

zooble: "mantis"

inspiration was the spiny flower mantis which, like with gangle, i feel is pretty much perfect for zooble... they come in many colors (including pink), have abstract patterns, and it gave me the excuse to cover zooble in spikes :D fun

and no kaufmo because i'm lazy and he's dead (sorry kaufmo fans but am i wrong), and the rest don't have bug names that i know of?

i still want to draw the carnival characters in their regular looks sometime, i just got really really inspired by the idea of secret skins and bug-themed outfits and went a liiittle haywire :P

anyways if you read all that you're a real one and you've got too much time on your hands... if you didn't, i understand, i get wordy, sorry :'D okay i think that's all byeee

#the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital carnival #carnival au #tadc #pomni #jax #ragatha #gangle #zooble #bugs #spiders #gif #my art #my fancy art

[vetyr]

hi, i ireally love your work and i don't know if you've answered this before but, what kinds of studies do you do or how did you learn color theory? i wanna get better at rendering and anatomy but im having trouble TT TT

Hi! Long answer alert. Once a chatterbox, always a chatterbox.

When I started actively learning how to draw about 10 1/2 years ago, I exclusively did graphite studies in sketchbooks. Here's a few examples—I mostly stuck to doing line drawings to drill basic shapes/contours and proportions into my brain. The more rendered sketches helped me practice edge control & basic values, and they were REALLY good for learning the actual 3D structure behind what I was drawing.

I'd use reference images that I grabbed from fitness forums, Instagram, Tumblr, Pinterest, and some NSFW places, but you could find adequate ref material from figure drawing sites like Line of Action. LoA has refs for people (you can filter by clothed/unclothed, age, & gender), animals, expressions, hands/feet, and a few other useful things as well. Love them.

Learning how to render digitally was a similar story; it helped a lot that I had a pretty strong foundation for value/anatomy going in. I basically didn't touch color at all for ~2 years (except for a few attempts at bad digital or acrylic paint studies), which may not have been the best idea. I learned color from a lot of trial and error, honestly, and I'm pretty sure this process involved a lot of imitation—there were a number of digital/traditional painters whose styles I really wanted to emulate (notably their edge control, color choices, value distributions, and shape design), so I kiiind of did a mixture of that + my own experimentation.

For example, I really found Benjamin Björklund's style appealing, especially his softened/lost edges & vibrant pops of saturated color, so here's a study I did from some photograph that I'm *pretty* sure was painted with him in mind.

Learning how to detail was definitely a slow process, and like all the aforementioned things (anatomy/color/edge control/values/etc.) I'm still figuring it out. Focusing on edge control first (that is, deciding on where to place hard/soft edges for emphasizing/de-emphasizing certain areas of the image) is super useful, because you can honestly fool a viewer into thinking there's more detail in a piece than there actually is if you're very economical about where you place your hard edges.

The most important part, to me, is probably just doing this stuff over and over again. You're likely not going to see improvement in a few weeks or even a few months, so don't fret about not getting the exact results you want and just keep studying + making art. I like to think about learning art as a process where you *need* to fail and make crappy art/studies—there's literally no way around it—so you might as well fail right now. See, by making bad art you're actually moving forward—isn't that a fun prospect!!

It's useful to have a folder with art you admire, especially if you can dissect the pieces and understand why you like them so much. You can study those aspects (like, you can redraw or repaint that person's work) and break down whether this is art that you just like to look at, or if it's the kind of art that you want to *make.* There's a LOT of art out there that I love looking at, probably tens of thousands of styles/mediums, but there's a very narrow range that I want to make myself.

I've mentioned it in some ask reply in the past, but I really do think looking at other artist's work is such a cheat code for improving your own skills—the other artist does the work to filter reality/ideas for you, and this sort of allows you to contact the subject matter more directly. I can think of so many examples where an artist I admired exaggerated, like, the way sunlight rested on a face and created that orange fringe around its edge, or the greys/dull blues in a wheat field, or the bright indigo in a cast shadow, or the red along the outside of a person's eye, and it just clicked for me that this was a very available & observable aspect of reality, which had up until that point gone completely unnoticed! If you're really perceptive about the art you look at, it's shocking how much it can teach you about how to see the world (in this particular case I mean this literally, in that the art I looked at fully changed the way I visually processed the world, but of course it has had a strong effect on my worldviews/relationships/beliefs).

Thanks so much for sending in a question (& for reading, if you got this far)! I read every single ask I receive, including the kind words & compliments, which I genuinely always appreciate. Best of luck with learning, my friend :)

#answers to asks #illustration #art advice #art help #drawing #digital art

[alfheimr]

My Favorite Cheap Art Trick: Gradient Maps and Blending Modes

i get questions on occasion regarding my coloring process, so i thought i would do a bit of a write up on my "secret technique." i don't think it really is that much of a secret, but i hope it can be helpful to someone. to that end:

this is one of my favorite tags ive ever gotten on my art. i think of it often. the pieces in question are all monochrome - sort of.

the left version is the final version, the right version is technically the original. in the final version, to me, the blues are pretty stark, while the greens and magentas are less so. there is some color theory thing going on here that i dont have a good cerebral understanding of and i wont pretend otherwise. i think i watched a youtube video on it once but it went in one ear and out the other. i just pick whatever colors look nicest based on whatever vibe im going for.

this one is more subtle, i think. can you tell the difference? there's nothing wrong with 100% greyscale art, but i like the depth that adding just a hint of color can bring.

i'll note that the examples i'll be using in this post all began as purely greyscale, but this is a process i use for just about every piece of art i make, including the full color ones. i'll use the recent mithrun art i made to demonstrate. additionally, i use clip studio paint, but the general concept should be transferable to other art programs.

for fun let's just start with Making The Picture. i've been thinking of making this writeup for a while and had it in mind while drawing this piece. beyond that, i didn't really have much of a plan for this outside of "mithrun looks down and hair goes woosh." i also really like all of the vertical lines in the canary uniform so i wanted to include those too but like. gone a little hog wild. that is the extent of my "concept." i do not remember why i had the thought of integrating a shattered mirror type of theme. i think i wanted to distract a bit from the awkward pose and cover it up some LOL but anyway. this lack of planning or thought will come into play later.

note 1: the textured marker brush i specifically use is the "bordered light marker" from daub. it is one of my favorite brushes in the history of forever and the daub mega brush pack is one of the best purchases ive ever made. highly recommend!!!

note 2: "what do you mean by exclusion and difference?" they are layer blending modes and not important to the overall lesson of this post but for transparency i wanted to say how i got these "effects." anyway!

with the background figured out, this is the point at which i generally merge all of my layers, duplicate said merged layer, and Then i begin experimenting with gradient maps. what are gradient maps?

the basic gist is that gradient maps replace the colors of an image based on their value.

so, with this particular gradient map, black will be replaced with that orangey red tone, white will be replaced with the seafoamy green tone, etc. this particular gradient map i'm using as an example is very bright and saturated, but the colors can be literally anything.

these two sets are the ones i use most. they can be downloaded for free here and here if you have csp. there are many gradient map sets out there. and you can make your own!

you can apply a gradient map directly onto a specific layer in csp by going to edit>tonal correction>gradient map. to apply one indirectly, you can use a correction layer through layer>new correction layer>gradient map. honestly, correction layers are probably the better way to go, because you can adjust your gradient map whenever you want after creating the layer, whereas if you directly apply a gradient map to a layer thats like. it. it's done. if you want to make changes to the applied gradient map, you have to undo it and then reapply it. i don't use correction layers because i am old and stuck in my ways, but it's good to know what your options are.

this is what a correction layer looks like. it sits on top and applies the gradient map to the layers underneath it, so you can also change the layers beneath however and whenever you want. you can adjust the gradient map by double clicking the layer. there are also correction layers for tone curves, brightness/contrast, etc. many such useful things in this program.

let's see how mithrun looks when we apply that first gradient map we looked at.

gadzooks. apologies for eyestrain. we have turned mithrun into a neon hellscape, which might work for some pieces, but not this one. we can fix that by changing the layer blending mode, aka this laundry list of words:

some of them are self explanatory, like darken and lighten, while some of them i genuinely don't understand how they are meant to work and couldn't explain them to you, even if i do use them. i'm sure someone out there has written out an explanation for each and every one of them, but i've learned primarily by clicking on them to see what they do.

for the topic of this post, the blending mode of interest is soft light. so let's take hotline miamithrun and change the layer blending mode to soft light.

here it is at 100% opacity. this is the point at which i'd like to explain why i like using textured brushes so much - it makes it very easy to get subtle color variation when i use this Secret Technique. look at the striation in the upper right background! so tasty. however, to me, these colors are still a bit "much." so let's lower the opacity.

i think thats a lot nicer to look at, personally, but i dont really like these colors together. how about we try some other ones?

i like both of these a lot more. the palettes give the piece different vibes, at which point i have to ask myself: What Are The Vibes, Actually? well, to be honest i didn't really have a great answer because again, i didn't plan this out very much at all. however. i knew in my heart that there was too much color contrast going on and it was detracting from the two other contrasts in here: the light and dark values and the sharp and soft shapes. i wanted mithrun's head to be the main focal point. for a different illustration, colors like this might work great, but this is not that hypothetical illustration, so let's bring the opacity down again.

yippee!! that's getting closer to what my heart wants. for fun, let's see what this looks like if we change the blending mode to color.

i do like how these look but in the end they do not align with my heart. oh well. fun to experiment with though! good to keep in mind for a different piece, maybe! i often change blending modes just to see what happens, and sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. i very much cannot stress enough that much of my artistic process is clicking buttons i only sort of understand. for fun.

i ended up choosing the gradient map on the right because i liked that it was close to the actual canary uniform colors (sorta). it's at an even lower opacity though because there was Still too much color for my dear heart.

the actual process for this looks like me setting my merged layer to soft light at around 20% opacity and then clicking every single gradient map in my collection and seeing which one Works. sometimes i will do this multiple times and have multiple soft light and/or color layers combined.

typically at this point i merge everything again and do minor contrast adjustments using tone curves, which is another tool i find very fun to play around with. then for this piece in particular i did some finishing touches and decided that the white border was distracting so i cropped it. and then it's done!!! yay!!!!!

this process is a very simple and "fast" way to add more depth and visual interest to a piece without being overbearing. well, it's fast if you aren't indecisive like me, or if you are better at planning.

let's do another comparison. personally i feel that the hint of color on the left version makes mithrun look just a bit more unwell (this is a positive thing) and it makes the contrast on his arm a lot more pleasing to look at. someone who understands color theory better than i do might have more to say on the specifics, but that's honestly all i got.

just dont look at my layers too hard. ok?

#process #art tutorial #unsure what else to tag this as. if this does not post properly i will cry.

[ghavialis]

They should make hormonal cycles that don't affect my opinions on having children

#slapping myself across the face you don't want to pay to freeze your eggs before t you're just ovulating for the first time in two years #mind wandering to like oh wouldn't it be fun to have little family traditions with your kids. I DONT WANT KIDS #<- lie I'm not against the idea. it's just not worth €3000 + €200/year to me. #they should make a being trans that's free #I am aware of adoption that is also incredibly expensive #just need to wait for Leo to have his children and live vicariously through him #2.5 year of hormonal iud review: this is the bad place. thought the emotional turmoil was bad I'm not now depressed anymore just want kids #<- actually can we get a YIPPEE I'm out of a three month long depressive episode. #<- (I love you tag arrows) it actually is really fucked up how little information they give you about iuds and your mental health #like if you mention the hundreds of stories of people suffering with it the doctor goes. oh that's just female hysteria :D #need to update the iud cycle image one second.

[leclerc-hs]

ex's and oh's - CL16

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo

THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 

You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.

There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.

“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”

“Already fucking other people, hm?”

As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 

“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.

Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 

“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 

He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 

“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.

“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.

“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?

He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.

So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”

He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.

His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.

“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.

The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.

For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 

“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?

The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 

The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.

“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 

The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.

“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 

The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.

You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.

You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 

And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”

The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 

His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 

“Porquoi?” Why?

“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.

You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 

His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 

You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.

“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 

It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.

"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."

“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 

You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.

“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?

You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.

“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”

His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.

“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.

The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.

You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.

His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.

“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 

Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc angst #f1 x reader #formula one x reader #charles leclerc x you #cl16 x reader

[inkskinned]

but they don't care about the burnout. everyone is burnt out, they tell me. who isn't burnt out!

the good news is they don't say depression is a choice as much anymore, but the symptoms for burn out and depression are so hand-in-hand that they are mirror images of each other. but depression is serious. you're not depressed, you're just whiny. they barely change the script - don't be lazy! burn out is for people with real problems. burn out can be resolved with some fun candles and a day off work. burn out only happens in adults - no kid can be burnt out, after all; they've barely even had a life to live!

do you have a roof over your head and a steady job? you're not burnt out. so what if every night you wake up with a panic attack frothing inside your chest. you're lucky your problems are small. get back into plants or into yoga. shut up about it.

rich people get burnt out and go to fancy places. they get burnt out in their fancy offices with their real-people problems. they get burnt out and hire an assistant to help them never burn out again. you don't have the money to burn out. you don't have the two weeks to recover in a local spa. the job you come back to will still be stressful and hard.

you find yourself often wondering - does nobody remember about the pandemic? it seems almost like a joke or a punchline. being burnt-out was okay "during" the pandemic. now that people are back to ignoring covid, burnout is just-an-excuse again.

you google how to know if it's seasonal affective disorder or burnout. you google how to know if it's anxiety or it's burnout from working. you google how to know if my depression is back or i'm burning out badly.

coming back from burnout just leaves you covered in ashes, not new growth. you struggle to get back basics, and then - you're just supposed to get back up and keep going. every day the amount of tasks you are able to do seems to dwindle even further - where does the time go? why is everything moving so-fast-and-yet-so-slow?

my therapist and i were talking about how many people had latent mental illnesses that were triggered by the pandemic. how depression can be environmental and situational. i am annoyingly logic-driven about my own recovery - i like to be sure i'm working on the "right" thing. i tell her i feel like i'm lying. that it just might be burnout, and i need to stop complaining. she asks me what words come to mind when i think of burning.

oh, i guess i see.

we casually ignore the violence of being left empty.

#employers for 2 weeks during the pandemic: we know it's gonna be so so hard and we're here for you #week 3 day 1: now that we have been nice to you fucking get over it you weakling #do not worry this is not me romantically recalling the ''we're here for u'' overhead announcements #this is the opposite #side note #the new options to post????????? huh #gonna go write something VERY gay just to test it #(eventually. i skipped my meds by accident today so im nowhere)

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

TF141 getting a boudoir photo album as a wedding gift ♡

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A/N: THIS WAS SO FUN!!! Great, absolutely phenomal idea, dear anon. Simon's part is very sappy (I cried) which might be ooc for him?? Idk, that's how I write him/interpret his character! :) let me know who's your favorite 👀

~Fi 🐝

《Warnings》: NSFW content. proceed with caution. PiV, creampie, cunnilingus, Johnny's oral fixation (yes, that is a warning.)

It's still very sweet and lovey dovey with all of them bc I'm a certified sap <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

John would be grinning and smirking like a proper idiot when he lays his eyes on those delectable photos of you.

I imagine you had a date night at home, sipping wine on the couch and talking about your wedding that's supposed to take place in only 3 days. He's telling you how he can't wait to see you in your wedding dress and slip that ring onto your finger.

Be prepared to he called Mrs. Price the days leading up to the big day. John excuses it with "Need to practice, love. Don't wanna mess it up in front of anyone, eh?"

Sneaky bastard.

He knows what he's doing, you know what he's doing, all is well because if he only knew what that did to you. You're just talking, trying to get the nerves out now so you can go into your wedding with a clear mind and have a good time. When you tell him you have a gift for him, his eyebrows almost overshoot his forehead. Yeah, he knew that was a thing some people did, but he never gave it another thought.

In all honesty, marrying you was the best gift he could ever get. Which is why he feels slightly guilty that he doesn't have one for you (at least that's what you see, internally he's crushed) but that all goes out the window when you sit back down with a sleek beige photo album that has a little romantic quote on the front.

"And what's this, doll, hm?" His heart feels warm and fuzzy, thinking these are some lovely pictures of you together on holidays you went on, casual trips to the local pub or just some domestic shots you managed to sneak during his leave.

What he doesn't expect, however, is the angelic image of your plush body on full display, draped over a velvet chaise lounge with layered pearl necklaces hanging from your neck. This man is shell-shocked. If he wasn't frozen in place, he would've snapped the book shut.

You can basically see the connections to his brain frying. His jaw slacks, and only after what feels like 10 minutes he regains his ability to think and close his mouth. John is sweating and his cock is rock hard as he flips through the remaining pages.

He shoots you the occasional glance while he's trying not to hyperventilate. You just sit back and savor your wine, trying to hide your laugh behind the rim of your glass. You'd expected a reaction, of course, but you didn't think you'd render the John Price speechless just from a few suggestive photographs of you.

But what absolutely breaks the camels back (or John's, in this case) is the last picture of you. You're kneeling, slightly leaned back and supported by your arms, with one of his Flannels covering your soft tits. That alone would've been enough to drive him crazy, but the sight of his old dogtags sitting against your sternum has him groaning out loud.

The only other thing covering you is a simple pair of lace panties, cupping the soft curve and rolls of your tummy so beautifully, John was ready to take a bit out of that damn page.

He nearly misses the inscription underneath the photo;

To my John; the love of my life, the man of my dreams,

I love you.

You hold my heart and you will forever.

May I be so lucky to find my place in the stars by your side when the time comes, so we'll never have to be apart.

With all my love,

Mrs. Price

And that does it. The album snaps shut and you barely have time to put down your wine glass before John is all over you, taking handfuls of you, whatever he can reach. With how fast he smashes his lips on yours, he nearly gives you whiplash.

He's tugging and pulling at your clothes as well as his own, not saying a thing, just hungrily swallowing every one of your sounds and giggled objections before he decides the couch is uncomfortable and he moves you to the bedroom. You're hoisted up without a warning and you cling to his neck. Immediately, worried words start spilling from your lips, remembering how he'd complained about a sore back just today;

"John, baby, your back-"

"I don't give a flying fuck about my back, love."

He's heaving and grunting like a fucking animal, he's downright feral. Despite all of that, you're still laid down gently on the bed, John would never, ever be reckless with you. But he needs to be inside you now, he'll actually lose his mind.

Usually, he'd spent hours between your thighs first, but he just can't wait. He's pounding you into another dimension but with such gentleness in his gestures, it makes your head spin.

He's holding your hand, breathing sweet praises into your ear despite him filling you to the brim. His urge to claim you goes haywire and he fills you with his cum multiple times before he's sane enough again.

He's covered in sweat and his beard is wet from your spit from all the sloppy kisses he gave you. John will definitely make it up to you and eat you out for as long as you want after.

He'll make a copy of one of the photos and take it with him when he's on deployment, just for the nights he's feeling lonely.

His wedding gift to you are the hickeys on your thighs and tummy and new sheets because you two tore the other ones to absolute shreds.

♥︎

Johnny would probably have a boudoir album for you, too. You get at least one shirtless pic a day, so a whole album of his body on display or in suggestive poses basically screams Johnny. He's already drooling the second he spots that book because he knows what it is and that he's in for a treat.

He's buzzing with excitment.

You never really send nudes for privacy reasons, and then for you to do something like this hit him like a truck in the best way possible. You're standing opposite from him behind the kitchen counter, and you look so nervous to him.

Cue his signature shit-eating grin. You tap your fingers on the dark blue album before having enough of your nerves and just sliding it over to him with a few mumbled words of what it is.

"Awe, for me, mo leannan?" He's a teasing bastard, and he chuckles when you huff and turn your head, obviously flustered. Johnny is legit licking his lips, but when he opens the book, his grin fades so fast.

He knew it would be good, but holy shit, this was so much better than he expected. His pupils dilate as he takes in each of the pictures of you, all of you, all your curves and bumps.

Everything he loves about you. God, you're such a woman, he thinks to himself. Some with lingerie, some without. He's full on drooling at this point, and the only reason why he roughly wipes it away with the back of his hand is to not get it on these sacred images.

He smirks at the picture of you in a tub, all soapy, with pebbled nipples. An obvious dig at his nickname, but, god, does your ass look amazing when it's covered in a thin layer of bubbles. He loves lathering you up in the shower and feeling you up while you're all wet and slippery.

"Good thing I can hold my breath, aye, hen? Might even try to set a new personal record." He's grinning and chuckling meanwhile you give him a sharp glare. You can't deny that the idea intrigues you, though.

But this, oh, this one was him swallowing thickly. It's you in very sheer panties (they're barely even underwear) and his name patch is sewn onto the front. Your hair looks so nice, so do your thighs, he doesn't know whether to look at your eyes or your tits. The button on his jeans is about to pop off from his throbbing boner.

He can't take his eyes off that 'MacTavish' patch that sits right on your lower belly, with the slight curve it has to it from your soft tummy.

Johnny has to hold himself back from gripping the book too hard. He wouldn't want to ruin it.

"Steamin' bloody Jesus, bonnie..."

The album is shut and tucked under his arm, and Johnny jumps over the counter to get his hands on you. Or his mouth, more like. He has a huge oral fixation, so he loves sucking and biting on every inch of your skin. You're pushed back into the bedroom, even though you end up on the floor, and the book is thrown onto the bed.

He rips your shirt up and sucks at your tits and nipples, groaning and moaning at the taste of your skin, all while he's rubbing his clothes cock against your leg. You end up on your hands and knees with one of Johnny's hands on your lowerback while his face is buried in your cunt.

He's eating you out like he's been starved for years, and his stubble is already starting to irritate the skin of your thighs and ass.

You'll have the worst case of beard burn in the morning, but how could you care about that when his tongue is so deep inside of you?

Remember when I said he'd have a boudoir album too? Yeah, now you're in between his legs, your back pressed to his chest with Johnny's album in your shaky hands. And the way your engagement ring catches the dim light of the room has your eyes rolling back.

And Jesus christ, Johnny looks fucking phenomal. You clench around his fingers hard, and he doesn't even have to pull his head from your neck to know what photo you're looking at.

He's smirking and grinning like the ceshire cat, knowing that the image of him in a kilt with no shirt one is gracing your field of vision right about now.

"Ah knew ye'd like tha' one, bonnie..."

Johnny's cooing in your ear, telling you to keep looking at the pictures while he's knuckle deep in your pussy. His bare dick is pressed against your ass and you can feel him rocking his hips to get off.

He's mumbling all kinds of gibberish into your ear, but one of the few things you can make out is "mo bhean"* which pushes you over the edge. You won't be leaving that bed anytime soon.

*(My wife)

♥︎

Kyle is such a sweetheart. I've said it before, and I will say it again, he's such a cutie pie!!! But that doesn't mean he can't or won't get nasty.

He'd offered to make lunch, which was delicious as always, and now you're chatting casually about your day at your dining table. Your fingers are laced together, and he's wearing the biggest smile because all he can think of is how he gets to marry you in just a few days.

He's over the moon. He can't wait to see you walk down the aisle, say your vows to each other, and overall have a great time with all your friends and family.

But the thing Kyle is looking forward the most is the honeymoon. He'll have you to himself for 2 whole weeks and he's stoked. He can't wait to treat you to nice things, love on you, but he's the most excited to fuck you as your husband.

He may look sweet and 'innocent' but this man can fuck, okay. And he fucks well. He knows every little spot that has you mewling and he's so good at using them for his gain.

Kyle will fuck you into the mattress in the Hotel you booked, he's already made up his mind about that, but he wants to absolutely melt your brain by being so loving whole doing it that you can't help but cry out for him.

He has heart eyes at this point, watching you talk about all that happened today and he only snaps out of his dream world when you present the deep red album to him with a sweet smile.

He's got a hunch of what it is so there's a hint of a smirk on his lips. Still, he almost gets whiplash when he opens it.

There's no easing into it, just straight up tits, ass and tummy. And let me tell you, Kyle is loving every second of it. It's no secret that he loves your chub, and that fact that it's extenuated so beautifully in every shot makes his heart and his cock happy. He's a very balanced man after all.

He comments on every single photo because he think it's endearing how you get all flustered and giggly from his compliments.

One picture that has him taking a second, though, is one where you have a lacy band tied around your thigh, with a little golden 'Kyle' charm hanging from it. He's all smiley and giddy, but he does try to discreet adjust his trousers because, holy shit, that's hot.

"Have you still got that, dove? Would love to see it tied around your pretty neck."

All you answer is that he'll have to be patient and wait till the wedding night to find out. He's laughing and teasing now, but just what till you get to the last page, Gazy.

And the way his smile just melts off his face is priceless. His gaze is flitting between you on the page and you sitting across from him with a shot eating grin. All the blood that drained from his face went straight to his dick.

Not only are you wearing a set of lingerie in his favorite color, but you've got his iconic pair of sunglasses hooked on the center of your bra. And that's not all either, his eyes travel upwards and his base cap is sat on your head and you've got that beautiful smile of yours on your face.

He makes an audible noise, one that indicates you took his breath away, when he takes in the whole picture.

"How in hell did you manage to snatch my hat and my glasses from right under my nose?!"

"Skilled hands, babe."

He's laughing at you breathlessly because he's still enarmoured by the sight of you.

And Kyle will absolutely whisk you away and fuck you stupid in front of your bedroom mirror while you're wearing his hat.

It makes him feral, seeing you like that. He's got both of his arms wrapped around your middle and he's panting into your shoulder. He does look up from time to time to see your blissed out face all while still wearing his cap.

He lets out a strained moan everytime he looks at you in the mirror and his hips stutter ever so slightly.

Kyle is just spewing jumbled words of love because he's genuinely so happy. You make him so happy.

He honestly can't wait to give you your wedding gift. It's a little booklet filled with poems or quotes that reminded him of you, or of how you make him feel. And it will make you cry when he reads them to you.

Definitely not because he'll be ballsdeep inside of you while doing so...

♥︎

Simon, Simon, Simon.... first of all, he's completely blindsided by this. And he hasn't got a fucking clue what's in that black book you hand him one night when you're cuddling in bed.

There's just a giant question mark above his head. When you tell him it's a wedding gift, he goes silent and just looks at that album in his hands.

He never really got gifts, which obviously changed since he's been with you, but he's still not used to it. You're so thoughtful. And sweet. And kind, and perfect and-

he turns his head to you when you softly call his name and if you notice the slight sheen of tears in his big brown eyes, you don't mention it. You just encourage him to open the book. And when he does, a small huff and gentle smile leave him because how are you so perfect?

Yes, all of the pictures are all filthy, but they're all radiating of love and softness, and he can't get over it. How are you so soft? Simon can't get enough of you. You mess up his emotions in ways he never thought possible, and he can't help that his heart starts beating twice as fast.

That you did this for him means more than you could ever fathom, and he'll treasure this album until his end. He absent mindedly reaches for your hand as he flips through the pages, trying to tell you thank you when his words fail him, like they did so many times before with you.

He comes across a shot of your neck, a black leather collared fasten around it with a little silver skull charm. It makes him smile just a bit. He knows just how much meaning is behind it.

That you love him. All of him, which includes the Ghost. In cursive, 'Riley' is written right above your heart, and he gives your hand a squeeze.

Although you love the Ghost because it's a part of him, you've shown him that it's not all he is. That Simon is enough. That he should give Simon a chance and that he's not incapable anymore, like he was as a little boy. Ghost is sort of a protector of Simon, something not many people know, that's why he wears the mask outside of duty too. To shield himself.

But as much as the Ghost's service is appreciated, Simon can handle himself now. The Ghost will forever be with him, but so will you, and you'll wipe his bloody hands with a smile. You've shown him that you accept Ghost just as much as you accept Simon, and that means the world to him.

He sniffles ever so quietly, and you lean your head against his shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek. He moves on, gently turning the pages, and as much as his heart is touched by your kind gesture of this album, that doesn't stop his cock from stirring. It's pictures of your naked form, after all.

He loves every single inch of you and he's told you and shown you so many times, kissed all your insecurities away and took your mind off any bad thoughts about yourself by fucking you so well and lovingly to the point of tears.

Never, in a million years, had he expected you to return these efforts. You kissed all his scars and held him softly when reassuring any doubts he had. That's when he truly and fully fell in love with you.

He can feel himself getting hotter with every passing image of your soft body bent in different positions and clad in delicate garments, if any.

The best for last, as always, and it's a picture of you kneeling in front of a mirror, completely nude. A picture of Simon in full military regalia is tapped to the mirror and it's surrounded by a bunch of hearts drawn on with lipstick.

His name is written under the picture in your handwriting, and he can see you holding a lipstick, in the middle of finishing another heart. His breath hitches just for a split second.

He swears he'll burn this photo into the back of his eyelids.

It shows him just how great and raw your love for him is, and it makes him all fuzzy on the inside. The text at the bottom finishes it all off, and he's actively holding back tears, overwhelmed by so many feelings for you.

Dear Husband,

We're flawed; but that's how I like us. You're you, and I'm me, and I wouldn't change it for the world. You've made me a better version of myself, and that makes me love you so much more. I'm so proud of you, Simmy.

Love,

Your wife

"Thank you, my love. Thank you for this, and for loving me and for everything you've done for me. I love you"

His words are soft and painfully honest as he gently sets the album aside. You've made him a better man. A better Simon. A happier Simon. A Simon that's slowly starting to heal.

It starts off with a soft kiss that slowly turns more desperate and needy to the point you're gently being pushed back onto the bed, your clothes are discarded, and Simon absolutely worships you. He kisses every inch he can reach and touching you in all the ways he knows you like.

And, yeah, Simon can be rough and fuck you stupid for hours, but tonight, he just wants to feel close to you, and make you feel as good as you make him feel by simply loving him. He's talking you through it, holding you while he makes sure you take every inch of his cock.

His strokes are slow and deep, just like his love for you, and he revels in the way your eyes roll back each time he slides into you to the hilt. The drag of his dick against your walls has you moaning and whining, and when he presses down on your pudgy lower belly to intensify the sensation, you're putty.

You two fuck the whole night like this, no matter how sensitive you are, you need to be close to each other.

And in the morning, he'll wake you up with his face buried in your pussy because he's out of his sappy mood and his only goal now is to absolutely ruin you.

♡

Bonus: I can totally see Simon giving his dad the biggest middle finger known to man all the way in hell when he's standing by the altar on your wedding day. It just screams: 'fuck you, stupidly bastard. Despite all you've done to me and my family, despite all that's happened, I've persevered. I've overcome it all. Look at me now.'

Right after he's smiling up at the sky, knowing that his mum and brother are watching and that they would've loved you just as much as he does <3

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ────── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

I hope you enjoyed!! I love all my boys <3

(If you find any typos, it's 2.am. give me a break pls)

#bumblebeesfromvenus #captain john price #john price x reader #captain john price x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2

[vanteguccir]

Drunk and in love | Chris Sturniolo

Chris Sturniolo x reader

Summary: Where Y/N goes out with her friends for a girls' night and comes home drunk, so Chris has to take care of her.

Warning: Drunkness.

Requested?: Yes, by @plants-are-fun

Author's note: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

The sound of the bedroom door opening with force and, consequently, slamming into the wall behind it echoed like thunder through the room.

Chris, who was lying in bed, already showered and using his phone, raised his head abruptly, his eyes wide with fright.

A very drunk Y/N walked through the doorway, the pair of high heels clamped firmly between the fingers of her right hand while her left one grabbed whatever was around her - wall, furniture, even the air - in search of stability.

"Oh my God, babe... Are you drunk?" Chris asked the obvious, throwing his phone aside and getting up, walking quickly towards his girl.

"Mmm. Drunk on my feelings for my baby love. Do you know Chris?" Y/N's voice was completely slurred as a groggy smile decorated her face.

"Yep, you're drunk."

Y/N had decided hours ago to accept her friend's request, and go out for a girls' night out, but she didn't expect to drink as much as she did, let alone come back home drunk.

Not that Chris would get mad. He really just wanted her to have fun.

"C'mon, babe, let's give you a bath and take you to bed, hm?" Chris spoke as he finally approached. His hands automatically found home on her hips, lifting her posture and pulling her so that her full weight was against his body.

"Wait!" Y/N interrupted him, raising her right hand in the air and closing her eyes tightly, forming a mediocre expression of authority. "I'm sorry, kind sir, but I'm a taken woman." She continued, pressing her raised hand against Chris's face in an attempt to push him away.

The brunette closed his eyes quickly - preventing one of his girlfriend's fingers from poking it - and turned his face to the side, trying not to laugh at her sudden formality.

"Y/N, I'm your boyfriend!"

The girl stopped the repeated movement of her hand against his face instantly, her cloudy eyes running over Chris's face, taking note of the features she had memorized in her mind.

"Oh. Hi baby!"

Chris let out a nasal laugh at her response, his eyes shining as he watched a childish smile grow on Y/N's face.

"God, how much did you drink, hm?" The boy returned with his hands around her upper body, starting slow steps.

He guided Y/N to the bathroom carefully, afraid of making any sudden movement and getting her sick or trip and fall.

"Throw your heels over there, babe." The brunette asked as they passed their shared closet, pausing his movements momentarily and watching Y/N mumble, dropping the pair of shoes against the floor with a thud.

"Oh, that sounded funny. Did you hear it?" The girl asked as she giggled, pointing to the place where the heels were, throwing her head to the side as she tried to look at it.

"I did, lovie." Chris responded unsurprised, pushing the bathroom door open with his right foot before entering the smaller room, pulling his girlfriend with him. "Here, sit." The brunette guided her to the toilet, making her sit on the closed lid before leaning over the bathtub, turning the tap on.

"Did you... Did you know that... I really love you." Y/N mumbled almost incoherently as she watched Chris rummage through her skincare drawer, her drunk eyes making his image blurry.

"Yeah?" Chris asked with an amused smile on his face, already knowing the answer. His hands worked on grabbing some wipes and her favorite makeup remover - the one that smelled like roses.

"Yeah, like, a lot! A whole lot, like this..." Y/N expanded her hands exaggeratedly in an attempt to show the extent of her love for Chris, her doe eyes looking up at him from below, expectation swimming in her orbs.

"I love you just as much." Chris whispered, kneeling on the floor between her thighs. The boy quickly curved his upper body, sealing his lips on his girlfriend's knee before returning to his starting position.

The sound of Y/N's groggy voice repeating under her breath how much she loved him in a sing-song way filled his ears, and Chris could feel his heart tumping strongly against his chest as goosebumps ran through his body.

His fingers worked on opening the small packet and taking one wipe out, wetting it with the pink liquid from the makeup remover, before bringing it to Y/N's face. A grunt escaped her lips as she felt the cold liquid against her warm skin.

Chris smiled at her reaction, holding the back of her head gently with one of his hands, keeping her still, while his other one wiped away all the makeup remains from her face.

"I love you way more." Y/N brought the topic up again, her voice coming out like an overbearing child.

"Yes, I know you love me so much, my love. You told me about fifteen times in the last five minutes, hon’."

"Well, it's not enough." The girl barked back, rolling her eyes while crossing her arms.

"You're so stubborn, you know that?" He cocked an eyebrow, throwing the tissue in the trash after finishing his initial task, rising from the floor.

His blue eyes caught Y/N trying to copy his expression, scrunching her brows together instead. Chris let out a low laugh, smoothing the line that formed between her brows with his right tumb, undoing her failed attempt to imitate him.

"C'mon bunny, let's take a bath. Arms up."

Y/N quickly complied, raising her arms as if she were on a roller coaster, her previous anger already completely forgotten.

Chris pulled her crop top up, carefully passing it over her breasts and shoulders, throwing it into the laundry basket. He repeated the same with her skirt and underwear before grabbing a hair tie from her skincare drawer that was still opened.

"Turn around for me, babe." He asked in a low tone, raising his hands so he could quickly catch his girlfriend if she stumbled in her act.

Y/N turned around, patting the soles of her feet against the floor incessantly, an out of tune melody of two completely different songs escaping her lips, filling the bathroom.

Chris held back a laugh, pulling her hair back carefully and tying it into a messy bun in an attempt to stop it from getting wet with the bathwater.

"Come, pretty girl. Into the water we go."

The brunette led her into the bathtub, helping her to step over the high edge and sit on the marble floor, leaning her back against one of the backrests.

"Did you know that there are more chickens than people in the world?" The girl blurted out the information out of nowhere, a drunk laugh escaping her lips afterward.

The brunette stopped his movements, raising his eyebrows in surprise.

Chris quickly made a mental note to remind his girl about it in the morning, feeling interested in finding out more. He would definitely bring that information during a video with his brothers in the future.

"You're so pretty. Your eyes look like an ocean." Y/N quickly changed the subject, blatantly looking at Chris's face, which was close to hers as the boy gently rubbed her skin with her pink sponge filled with liquid soap.

Chris pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his face burn, knowing that his cheeks turned into a reddish hue instantly.

"Stop looking at me like that." The boy asked in a shy whisper, wrinkling his nose when Y/N tilted her face up, kissing his dry cheek messily, wetting the skin with soap and water.

"No can do, pretty boy."

༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

My asks are always open. My requests are closed at the moment since I have many to work in, but you can always send questions or simply talk to me 🩷💋

And remember to treat people with kindness always!

~ taglist:

@lustfulslxt @ladybunny44 @worldlxvlys @earth2starkey @remussbitch @freshloveforthefit @il0vebeingdelulu @sturniolowhore @mimi-luvzyu @alorsxsturn @urfavgirllyyyyy @domizzzsstuff @sturnizd @hearts4chris @cupidzsq @dracoflaco @leah-loves-lilies @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @rootbeerworshiper @junnniiieee07 @elliesturniolo1 @sstvrnioloo @lightsgore @gidgett11037 @sturniolho @ksskianshd @ccolleenn @sturniolo-lover1317 @soimightlikeoldmen69 @hrtyjy @ldr-sl0t @breeloveschris @bellasfavbisexual

(If you want to be added to the taglist, please comment here)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #x reader #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #fanfic #fanfiction #fic #imagine #oneshot #chris sturniolo fanfiction #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris x reader #chris fanfic #chris au #chris #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo x reader fluff #drunk reader #fluff

[frmisnow]

✧˖ ?!— TWO WHORES IN A ROOM, THEY MIGHT KISS. - (SUGGSTV.)

— ‧₊˚ — 🎸: "punch me in the gut, might be the only chance you'd ever have at wrecking my insides ??"

summary. having a lil punching sesh with the arrogant man-whore you oh so despised was not an easy game but def. a fun one at that !

notes. i don't know boxing like thattt so if this sounds a lil stupid i'm sry 😭😭 anyways boxer jk???? SJSPAAKMP

warnings/includes. (MDNI) non idol! jungkook x f! reader, hate fuck if you squint, enemies to lovers??? kinda, DEGRADING from both sides, slut, whore + man-whore mentioned, grinding

you don't know how long you've been circling around eachother, throwing insults left and right - yet nobody had landed the first punch yet. "you know for a man who keeps on yapping about being the best boxer in this shitplace, you're pretty damn scared of me" your eyes never leaving his, box gloves so tight around your hands, your tone sweet in that mocking tone, "you know you've got a pretty big mouth for somebody who claims they're not a slut" he responded no chalently as you didn't even shiver or visably reacted to the insult.

"you sound like you'd die to feel my precious mouth on you" you pouted sarcastically, the circle continuing once again.

"is that a threat or an invitation?" another one-liner fired back, your eyes narrowing - he may look serious but you know he's enjoying every second of this.

and right then and there- in the second he was waiting for you to reply, unfocused for just a split second you throw the first punch.

you immediately bring your fist back, landing a decent hook across his jaw. his head is forced back and eyes widened as he's obviously surprised, though he doesn't react much to the hit. he seems to quickly regain his composure and his eyes narrow sharply, a grin sneaking it's way onto his face: "well what do you know, the pussycat can fight"

it frustrated you that he wasn't fighting back - like you weren't deserving of a punch or two in the first place, like all you were deserving of were little mind games to rile you up but if he could play the game, you could too.

"no fucking shit, i've won more this year then you could dream of, you're just a man whore who thinks having abs and chicks on your dick are personality traits"

his eyes widen just a tiny bit and for a split second you feel you can see actual anger in him, before it's quickly replaced with a sly smirk as he's trying to play cool. he steps forward, getting so close and in your personal space to look taller on purpose, to tower you- to make you look weak, smaller, inferior to him - looking down at you, leaning in even closer and staring right into your eyes.

"you're a lot more fun when you're pissed off you know that?" he looks down a bit more and raises his eyebrows suggestively, "i just have to find the right buttons to press on you"

you're unaffected on the outside, he hasn't even reached any territory that could actually hurt your feelings - "you awfully sound like your talking about my tits, even in your mind there's an image of me permanently printed in, you can't stop thinking of me- you might need to get that chronical sexual obssesion checked at a doctor, that unhealthly ego might as well too"

jungkooks jaw tightens as you can see he's biting his tongue, trying to not react to your insult. looking down again, not saying anything for few seconds as he's processing the response. you can see him trying to not smirk in the corner of his mouth as he's trying to find an insult to answer back-

you took just the time: "huh? did that hurt? does the little pussyeater-for-a-living feel offended? do i need to bring you back to your mommy?" in a whiny tone like you're mimicking him yet still so insanely mocking.

kook tried his very best to sound calm and unbothered but his neck veins were already visable, a little frown on his face as well, ""i think i'm starting to actually get irritated"

"what? like it's hard?" you held eye contact with him without a problem, tension oh so heavy then adding, "c'mon punch me in the gut, might be the only chance you'd ever have at wrecking my insides"

he gets even closer, so close that his forehead is touching yours, still making that suggestive smirk as you see his jaw is clenched so tight. "i'd love to beat that pretty face of yours," he utters at last.

"oh but then there'd be no face for the men to kiss, is that what you want- oh, is our little kook jealous?"

his voice gets raspy and low, "jealous?" eyes remaining on yours ´, not breaking away even just once till he whispers (though there weren't even any people in the training room you both were in) like he was talking personally to you, he was trying to get under your skin: "you think a pathetic little whore like you would make me jealous?"

you're not hurt- not at all, i mean- if you were a slut, he was just the same. jungkook just had to little of reflecting skills or general understanding to coprehend just that- you punched him onto his stomach, him now stumbling just a bit now on more of a distance from you.

you can see he's struggling to not fall down from the impact of the blow. he clutches his abdomen, looking away from you to not let you see just how effective it wasbafter his lungs get the chance to refill with oxygen, he utters words with more passion than before, trying to mask the pain, "pathetic little whore, i thought you were better than this. but i guess you should stick to the dick, you can't fight like a man"

you roll your eyes at his tiny tries of regaining control: "your jaw that i punched just a few minutes ago says something else, c'mon knock me down- i bet you'd love to just be on top of me yet you're to afraid to even just fight and that's what i call pathetic"

that's where you reached his ego's final straw, lunging forward in rage knocking you down in a turn of events and pinning you to the ground, trying his absolute best to hold you down.

he's basically sitting on your body middle, straddling you in a way, you grinned like you weren't even afraid of him on top or you on the ground obviously you could feel his cock pressing hard against you "oh you got such a boner it's funny"

you saw him play with his left lip ring just how he always did when he was particulary focused, responding: "oh don't act so high and mighty, i bet you ruined your damn panties by now"

now you were the one silent, you truly didn't knew what to respond as.. he was right, fuck- maybe this turned you on more than you thought.

seeming a bit amused by that, his smirk becoming a cocky grin as he starts speaking again, in even more suggestive tone, "what's wrong, little slut? you're not even denying it"

he grinded onto you just a little, just so little against your core that it brought just the tiniest bit of pleasure but left you yearning for more, faster, harder leaving you to put your hands onto his hips, hands looking relatively small on his body.

he looks at you from his position, a mischievous smile on his lips as he moves his hips some more in a slow, grinding motion, while blabbering on and on, "not even i thought it was gonna be so easy to top you"

he tried his best to hide a moan by laughing that only half-working, hips continuing to grind onto you, bringing his lips to your neck, mumbling against the soft skin:

"i won"

#kpop smut #bts ff #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts imagines #bts x you #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #bts x fem!reader #bts x y/n #bts ffs #jungkook ff #imagines #bts #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: paige shows you how that strap game is and you fall in-love.

warning (s): smut, kinda virginity loss, strap, oral, fingering, nipple sucking, penetration, kinda fluffy and kinda cute, hair pulling.

word count: 3.7k

author note: based off req again, unedited again, wrote very late at night, ty for the support once again!! MINORS DNI

Whenever Paige & you texted, on the rare occasion, it was typically

inquires on scheduling, clothes that were left behind, or silly videos you found funny enough to share with Paige, your only companion with a foolish sense of humor alike you. Your Uni Friends were far too serious to handle your actual humor, and in the groupchat, all

that would be shared amongst you guys were academically humor-ous videos. You enjoyed being able to send Paige anything, even if it had the most crass, offensive, abrasive humor behind it. That's how you saw it when you sent her what you sent her, but Paige couldn't lie, she didn't expect you to be this forward. Readying herself to reply sweetly to your Tiktok or Reel or whatever since it was a rare thing, in the midst of practice, thankfully on a break and away from her team, she had opened your texts to a picture of your Amazon cart, showing you had purchased a big strap-on dildo.

It was either she left you on opened, speechless, or expressed her truest thoughts.

Paige replied: ?

Paige replied: 70$🤨 Is this why you've been working extra-lately?

You chuckled, on your break at work, replying: caught me 😊

You bit your lip: excited p?

Later that night, she called you to follow up on the details. "You got that for me?" She was treating this entire ordeal like a kid before a talent show, nervous and wanting to perform their best. "Paige, I'm hoping you aren't seriously calling me at 3AM on a Monday to ask me why I wanna use a strap with you." you groaned, having just got done with your nightly routine and being nearly asleep when she phoned you. "You're a grinch when you're tired," Paige teased, "I'm just making sure you're not asking me to use this because I can't satisfy you or sum." If only she knew how many sleepless, stressed-from-school-and-work, horny nights you had, trying to conjure her face in your mind, replicate her finger-work to no avail. That was actually how you got the idea for the strap. While browsing on her TikTok, trying to find something hot to help you stick the image in your mind, you had seen a video of her dancing with KK, and she had done a thrust dance motion that was so incredibly smooth it made you feel butterflies. You wanted to experience it for yourself now.

"Paige!" you exclaimed, "You're so annoying, Paige, oh my gosh! Of course it's not like that, I just like fucking you and I wanna try new things. Don't you? We could take turns with it and it could be so fun and-"

"FUCK no!" Paige chortled, a chuckle escaping her lips, "I'll let you and this attitude go back to sleep, but tomorrow you're getting it fucked out of you," she declared. "Yeah, whatever, Peanut Butter," you retorted. "Mhm, and by the time I'm done with you, you'll be jelly." she quipped in a genuine attempt to flirt, and you burst out laughing. She was so cute and unintentionally funny sometimes.

You couldn't have been more grateful for Amazon-Prime Shipping and the power of sleep and your busy schedule, because before you knew it, it was the next day and you had been post-gym, post-shower, and in your towel preparing for Paige's arrival when the door had been knocked. Happy, you rushed from your bedroom out to the front door of your apartment, and you yanked it open. "Isn't this perfect, P!" you rambled as she entered, undoing her laces and kicking her shoes off. "Finished all my schoolwork at work, just got back from the gym, and just finished showering, and now you're here." Paige chuckled lightly. "Don't get too excited. Let me shower first. That game today was tough, yo, St. Jackson didn't let up."

"Yeah, whatever, Paige, just hurry up," you said at her snail-like speed, placing her backpack on the rack and stretching. You hurriedly began to undress her, eager, and her much taller frame gently and playfully pushed you away. "Get outta here," she said, smacking your butt as you teetered away, giggling, obliging.

After she had finished showering, she entered your bedroom, both of you in your towels as you presented her with her gift. "Ta-da!" you chorused, "Need a YouTube tutorial or step-by-step." you quipped, playfully.

Paige's face turned serious. "Y/N," she began, as if she had just come to an epiphany, "isn't this gonna be your first time with something this size?" You nodded, eyebrows furrowed, wondering why she would look so concerned. "So?"

"So, this might hurt... like how it would with a... you know," you guys refrained from saying the g-word. And though you hadn't seen it that way, technically, Paige was about to take your virginity on a random Monday night.

"Oh," you replied, "I mean, I'm not the kind to back down from a challenge." you tried to humorously brush it off, but Paige was still extremely serious. "No, really, are you sure? I don't mind having a chill night or something," she insisted, knowing that in reality, if you guys had a chill night just hanging out, she might fall for you even harder. Heck, to be the first person inside you—the very first—was gonna cost her even more feelings of limerence for you. You pressed your lips into a flat line. Your next words, though meant in a literal way, made Paige's heart flutter. "If not you, then who else?"

Girls, even g-words, loved Paige, and she was very popular. She had a wide variety of people ready to have something with her, and you knew that the only reason she was with you was because everybody else was too invested and demanding. This year, at uni, you had finally found an identity. You had a demanding family, who were tough when it came to your academics and all other aspects, meaning it took you a good amount of time before you felt confident about who you were, who you liked, your style—all those key parts of your identity. You getting drunk and being open about it at a party was you at your rawest, and Paige had accepted this. She had seen you in a way you weren't sure you wanted anybody else to, and weren't sure if anybody else would want to like they did for her. So really, if not her, than who?

Paige had a billion things running through her mind that she wanted to say. "I wish we were dating before doing this," could've been one, "I wish I knew so I could make this more romantic for you," could've been another. But instead, the blonde laid her hand upon your cheek, kissing you before murmuring, "Thank you for trusting me with this," nose-to-nose. You grinned. "Yeah... I-, uh, thank you for never saying no," you replied, dropping your towel.

That was usually how it went —quick. Now, after a dirty kiss, you'd get naked and let Paige take the lead, and it'd be quick, raw, and passionate, but it was just different. The kiss was. And though you tried to match the pacing, that was different too. You watched as Paige fitted it on, her back turned to you. When you got bored, you reached into your nightstand drawer and removed the lube for safety. When Paige turned back around, the strap was on perfectly, making you suspicious about this being her first time. Oddly enough, if Paige were to say she did this with another girl, you might actually cry, so you don't ask her and just open your legs instead. "How do I look?" Paige asked, pulling at her chin repeatedly before flexing her arms. "Hot," you replied truthfully, "So hot."

Her hair was still wet, sorta wavy, and her skin was glass after she'd finished moisturizing. She smelled so good too. Everytime you two were about to do this, she somehow managed to look hotter each time. "You're keeping the rest of your thoughts to yourself," she read your mind, "Praise me some more." she teased, dropping to her knees. "What do you want me to say?" you asked, sitting up on your elbows and looking down at her, the girl positioned between your legs. "All the things I could just see you thinking about me," she breathed, her long finger coming up to circle your clit gently,

"All the things I can literally feel you thinking about me." she cleverly remarked about your immediate response to the sight of her: wetness. "I was thinking..." you begun, retracing your memory, mind always hazy when her fingers were on you. "Mhm," she murmured, suctioning your clit into her mouth gently, her eyes fixed on yours to let you know she was still listening. "Fuck," you breathed out, "Fuck, Paige, don't do this to me," you whimpered desperately. "You stop, I stop," she replied, pulling back slightly. "It's not so hard, is it?" she quirked a brow, pushing a finger inside your hole, eliciting a sharp gasp from your parted lips. "Tell me what was on your mind a second ago," she demanded as she pumped her middle finger in and out of you at a slow pace, too slow for your liking.

"You're so hot, Paige," you moaned, toes curling as she rewarded your disclosure with a long lick. "You always look so good all the time," you sighed, lip quivering as her finger made contact with your g-spot, stroking it in a distinct motion that made your lip quiver. "You have the prettiest eyes. The prettiest hair. You're just so perfect, gosh," Her oral ministrations ceased momentarily as she added another finger into you, her voice teasing, "Tastes and sounds like y/n's got a crush on me." You hated her smart mouth.

And simultaneously, you loved it and it felt too fucking good. "I love how smartly you talk too—so naturally," you confessed, feeling a surge of arousal seep out of you as her fingers maintained their unhurried pace within you. "You do, baby?" she purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Yeah," you moaned needily, "and I love it when you call me that." You melted into her touch, reveling in the mix of sensations coursing through your body. It was moments like these that blurred the lines between strictly pleasure and raw desire. You found pleasure in Paige's moments of dominance, relishing the sensation of being degraded. However, when she slipped up and used endearing terms, it shifted the dynamic, offering a glimpse of something beyond mere physical intimacy. In those moments, you could almost forget the boundaries of your arrangement as fuck buddies. It also dawned on you that your submission was a source of satisfaction for her, which in turn heightened your own pleasure. It was a delicate balance of power dynamics that fueled your exchange.

Paige continued her slow and sloppy assault, alternating between gentle licks and rough suckles, driving you to the edge of madness with each passing second. Paige's pace was torturously slow, but every moment felt like an eternity of bliss. She took her time, savoring every taste and sensation, making sure to explore every inch of your tight insides and throbbing clit. You moaned her name, your fingers tangling in her hair as you urged her on, wanting more of her touch, more of her tongue. Just more.

She draws back, a glistening trail of your essence adorning her chin. A connection between her and your cunt, strings of slick guide the way back into your wet pussy. With a gentle sigh, she spits lightly, a delicate touch that heightens the sensation, before tenderly reengaging, her tongue dancing with a graceful finesse amidst the delightful mess and head shaking passionately as she slurps you up. Lost in the moment, a wave of tranquility washes over you, enveloping you in the tender embrace of her touch. As her fingers explore deeper, a third joins the dance, their gentle caresses coaxing forth a symphony of pleasure.

Each movement is a whisper, a soft murmur of affection that sends shivers down your spine. With every stroke of her tongue, every tender exploration of her fingers, you feel yourself drawn closer to the brink of ecstasy. And as you teeter on the edge, your voice rises in a gentle climax, a whispered invocation of her name that echoes through the room, showcasing the intensity of your desire as she expertly continues to tongue-fuck you through your orgasm, each stroke pushing you further into the realms of euphoria. "Paige! I'm cumming, I'm cumming, I'm cumming," you cry out, and she doesn't release you, holding your thighs firmly as she acknowledges your ecstasy with a soft, "Mhm." into your pussy.

When she's satisfied — when your body stops convulsing and you lay flat back onto the bed, heaving — she climbs up your body, her lips trailing wet kisses down your neck and chest. Each kiss sends shivers down your spine, igniting a fire within you that refuses to be extinguished. As her lips reach your nipples, she sucks on the right breast, eliciting a tiny moan from you. You hold her head close, the sensation distracting you from the cold lube she squirts onto your cunt. But as the gel is applied, a lingering pain stirs within you granted by her fingers, a sharp reminder of the intrusion to come.

Despite the discomfort, you focus on her, craving the connection between you. With a raw intensity, you pull her into a kiss, the carnal desire between you palpable. "I can't wait for you to fuck me," you murmur against her lips, your voice thick with anticipation. "I know you'll do so good." You fall into another kiss, and this time, Paige takes your legs, raising them up to your sides. With practiced ease, she spreads the lube around your cunt, mixing it with your natural slick and saliva. The sight of the strap-on makes you pause, realizing its size for the first time.

Paige notices your hesitation and speaks to distract you. "You nervous?" she asks, her voice laced with concern. You glance down at the intimidating shaft, contemplating the impending pain. "How bad is that gonna hurt on a scale of 1-10?" you inquire, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Paige doesn't sugarcoat her response. "8," she admits, her hand pumping the shaft. "9," she adds, hunching over your body. "But to you, that's a 10." She knows you well, understanding your body and its limits like no one else.

But you trust her implicitly, knowing she'll guide you through this experience with care and expertise. "Give me this hand," she commands, placing your left hand onto the cock. "While I push, you'll feel it, so you know when to brace for impact, kay?" You nod, a silent agreement passing between you. She raises her right hand like she's making an oath. "I'll use this hand to play with your clit," she promises, her touch grounding you in the moment.

And if you want me to stop at any time... what's the word?" she asks, her gaze locked with yours. "Toasted cornuts," you reply without hesitation. "Toasted cornuts," she repeats, a solemn vow passing between you. With her left arm caging you in, you focus on her muscles, admiring her strength and determination. "You have such a nice body," you remark, unable to resist complimenting her.

Paige lets out a tiny whistle, her confidence bolstered by your words. "Look who's fuckin' talkin'," she quips, her thumb circling your clit with a newfound rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through you. "Tell me when you're ready," she instructs, her voice soft and reassuring. You hesitate, uncertainty clouding your mind. But you trust Paige implicitly, knowing she'll support you through every step of this journey. "I..." you are, definitely, but you hesitate. Paige is like a mind reader. "What do you need. You can't be afraid to tell me what you need." You stare up at her, wondering if it'd break the barrier of casualty. But you really did trust her. And again, if not her, then who? "There's too much space between us, Paige," you confess, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "I need you closer." Her response is immediate, her lips finding yours in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. Pressing her chest against yours, she buries her head in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys in her wake.

She was super nervous herself — she had deliberately kept that distance, fearing the intimacy that would inevitably follow. By closing the gap between you, she was exposing herself to a vulnerability she hadn't anticipated. As she pressed her body against yours, her heart raced with uncertainty. Every touch, every kiss, threatened to break down the walls she had carefully built around herself. But she couldn't deny the pull she felt towards you, the magnetic attraction that drew her closer with each passing moment.

With her lips against yours, she tried to push aside her fears, focusing instead on the raw passion that ignited between you. In this moment, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming desire to be close to you, to feel your body pressed against hers in a shared embrace of passion and longing.

"I'm ready," you gasp, your voice barely above a whisper. "Are you sure?" Paige asks, her concern evident in her eyes. "Yes, I'm sure," you reply with conviction, ready to face whatever comes next. As she begins to push forward, the intrusion feels foreign at first, but the discomfort quickly gives way to a deep, throbbing pleasure. You moan, the sensation overwhelming yet undeniably arousing.

"Hey, play with your clit," Paige instructs, her voice a soothing melody in the midst of your passion. "Feels better that way." You obey, your hand finding its way to your clit, your movements synchronized with Paige's thrusts. They start slow, almost teasingly, as if she's savoring every moment of your connection. Each movement is deliberate, calculated to elicit the maximum amount of pleasure from both of you. As she pushes forward, you feel the pressure building inside you, a delicious ache that only serves to heighten your desire.

You whimper, suddenly overwhelmed by the desire to be on your stomach. "Paige, turn me over," you plead, your voice a desperate plea for more, and with her immense strength, she effortlessly complies. The sensation floods your senses, sending a shiver of anticipation down your spine. As she positions you just as you had envisioned, memories of that electrifying encounter in the bathroom flood your mind. It's as if fate has brought you full circle, and now, here you are, experiencing the culmination of that desire.

With one hand firmly planted on your hip, Paige holds you steady as you press yourself against her, the intimacy of the moment washing over you like a wave. Your face contorts in pleasure as a guttural moan escapes your lips, the intensity of the sensation overwhelming and exhilarating all at once. "Oh, fuck, Paige," you gasp, your words a breathless declaration of pleasure. "Fuck, you feel so good." She can hardly find the words to respond, caught up in the raw passion of the moment. Her gaze meets yours, filled with awe and admiration as she marvels at your willingness to surrender to her.

"You're taking it so well, Y/N," she murmurs, her voice laced with admiration and desire. The sound of your name on her lips sends a thrill of pleasure coursing through you.

"Just for you," you whimper, your voice trembling with desire, "Just for you, P." Paige's thrusts exceed your expectations, her hips moving with a fluidity and precision that leaves you breathless. It's as if she's been trained for this moment, every movement calculated to maximize your pleasure. She wasn't lying when she said she would fuck the attitude out of you.

Using your hair to lift you up and off the bed, Paige forces your back into a proper arch, holding you in that position as she pistons her hips against yours. The sound of skin clapping against skin fills the atmosphere, punctuating each thrust with a primal rhythm that echoes the urgency of your desire.

"I'm gonna make you cum," she growls, her voice husky with need, and you can only moan in response, "Yeah, please," a plea for more, for release.

As she pounds into you relentlessly, you fumble with your clit, seeking that elusive release that hangs just beyond your grasp. And then, as her movements become more frantic and urgent, you feel it—the familiar sense of impending bliss, building and cresting within you.

With a cry of ecstasy, you finally succumb to the overwhelming pleasure, your body convulsing in ecstasy as torrents of pleasure cascade through you. It's as if the entire universe narrows down to this singular moment of pure, unadulterated bliss, enveloping you in a cocoon of rapture and leaving you breathless and utterly spent in its wake. Tears stream down your face, a testament to the intensity of the ecstasy you've just experienced as you come down from the peak, your heart still racing and your senses tingling with the aftershocks of pleasure.

As the weight of the moment settles over both of you, there's a palpable shift in the air. Paige withdraws from you, her movements mirroring your own sense of vulnerability and realization. For a moment, the silence between you is heavy with unspoken thoughts and emotions.

Then, with a tenderness that belies her usual confidence, Paige turns you over, her gaze soft yet intense as she meets your eyes. In that moment, you can see the depth of her feelings reflected back at you, a mixture of awe, tenderness, and a hint of uncertainty.

Without a word, Paige enfolds you in her arms, pulling you close against her chest. It's a gesture that speaks volumes, conveying more than words ever could. In her embrace, you find solace, reassurance, and a sense of belonging that fills the empty spaces within you.

As you rest against her, feeling the steady rhythm of her heartbeat beneath your ear, you realize that this is just the beginning of your journey together. You guys have started something beyond what this was supposed to be.

love is in the air? leave comments guys tell me what you think about this.. chapter? part? Where do you think the relationship is going and where do you want it to go? Inbox is open! masterlist here

#18+ only #paige x reader #paige buckets #paige bueckers x reader #paige bueckers fic #paige x fem reader #paige x oc #paige bueckers smut #paige bueckers #bueckersxfemreader #smutwccb #smut #smut bueckers #uconn huskies #march madness #uconn vs iowa #iowa wbb #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #wbb #ncaa tournament #ncaa march madness #ncaa #ncaa women’s basketball #ncaa wbb #wlw post #wlw smut #pb #pussyeatinggggg #strappon

[cryptotheism]

How many languages do you speak?

You are always talking about alchemist that lived all around the world in very differente time periods. And you have mentioned several times that there's a ton of numerology hidden in their texts, counting syllables and letters of certain words and paragraphs. So one would assume you need to read them in the original language it was written, right?

That's a really good question! As with most really good questions, the answer is "kinda, it depends!"

So! Most alchemical texts are written in some form of coded language, but the nature of that code depends on the era and culture the text is being written in. Depending on how its written, modern scholars have a lot of different tools for cracking open alchemical esoterica.

Most ancient Greek/Byzantine texts are written in postclassical Greek. But, they're often written in dense philosophical prose. The reader needs to be familiar with the likes of Plato, Aristotle, and the early Neoplatonists, to make sense of them. Luckily for us, people have been studying postclassical Greek for nearly 2000 years. There are many excellent translations into English.

Late Egyptian alchemists wrote almost entirely in pictograph code. Not as in hieroglyphics, mind you. Egyptian alchemical recipes often made use of custom character sets and symbols that represented alchemical concepts. (One famous example, the Formula of the Crab, uses a complex diagram that looks like a centipede to represent a particular gold compound.) These are damn near impossible to read without expert help.

At the same time, Jewish and Syriac writers of the era could get by on the fact that not everyone could read Hebrew and Syriac lol. The language barrier itself acted as a sort of copyright system for protecting their ideas. Luckily for us, many of these texts were preserved and translated by medieval Arab scholars!

Speaking of Arabic, once you hit the Islamic Golden Age, the amount of alchemical literature increases by a factor of ten. Thing is, the Islamic Polymaths weren't all that interested in obscuring their work. The Islamic Golden Age was all about copying and translating older works, and compiling them into big textbook/dictionaries. They're not intentionally encoded, they're comparatively easy to read once you get a good translation. Thing is, you gotta know your Neoplatonism. Medieval Islamicate scholars love Neoplatonism.

Then we get the reintroduction of alchemy to Europe around the 10th century. What you get is about 400 years of monks painstakingly translating medieval Arabic into Latin. A lot of these texts are very well preserved, and have good translations into English.

Then, around the late 14th century, European entrepreneurial alchemy kicks into high gear, and THIS is where we get all those fancy numerology encoded alchemical texts. Renaissance alchemists loved themselves some puzzles. This would be fine if they were all just writing in Latin, but the printing press meant they could write in any damn language they please. You get a lot of French, German, Dutch, Italian, and antiquated English alchemical texts, and they can be a bitch to read without help.

BUT the introduction of the printing press also gave us something useful: cheap picture books! Late renaissance alchemists loved writing in word games and coded metaphor, but they also loved including esoteric diagrams. And the thing about esoteric diagrams is --if you know your stuff-- you don't need to speak 15th century french to read a picture. Which isn't a replacement for reading the original translation, not even close, but the explicit purpose of these images was to prove to other alchemists that the author knows what they're talking about. So if you can read them, you can get a damn good sense as to what the text is about.

This was fun to write so I'm gonna plug my patreon if you wanna see me write more about alchemy.

#alchemy #patreon