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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

bullseye | got it bad, m | jjk, kth

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Kim Taehyung really regrets setting up his best friend with Jeon Jungkook, mostly because instead of dealing with one insufferable asshole, he now has to deal with two. He just wants you to come to his art exhibit and support him, and you show up looking like a pimp with Jungkook looking like your escort, sigh.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; you’re a cocky asshole and so is Jungkook; schemes, please save Taehyung; graphic descriptions of various sex acts, smut (fem reader, making out / dry humping / fingering in a public bathroom, threesome smut, mild restraint, nipple play, m-receiving oral, ass / pussy spanking, double penetration / spit-roast, facial, mild dom/sub themes, so much kissing); non-idol!BTS; fuckboy!Jungkook x bisexual, fuckgirl!reader; ft artist, best friend!Taehyung

yup, it’s Butter purple-haired ponytail JK and orange suit Taehyung

"You have got to be kidding me!"

"Oh, hey, Tae. How's it going?"

"Hey, hyung."

The voices, one irritated, one pleased, one mischievous, all three looking like the epitome of trouble and the eventual subjects of someone's wet dream.

Kim Taehyung marched over to you, purely indignant, his previous honey-brown hair now dyed to the color of black coffee, the long curls pushed back to reveal his forehead. One stray lock brushed against his dark, sculpted brows that were currently furrowed in annoyance. He stopped in front of you and your boyfriend, hands on his hips. He looked handsome as hell in a tailored orange creamsicle suit and gold earrings, white dress shirt neatly pressed.

"Why are you dressed like a pimp?" Taehyung hissed, jabbing your left breast through your dress. "Why are you dressed like his pimp?!" he added, pointing at Jungkook's smirking face.

You blinked innocently at Taehyung, lifting your oversized black fur coat sleeve to place a delicate hand on your chest, completely unbothered by his harsh reaction to your appearance. Your nails were a gradient from black to white, ever-so-slightly pointed, but not too long to be inconvenient.

Just enough to show you meant business.

Oh, and also you were wearing mock-neck, halter-style minidress that faded from black to white, molded to your every curve. It perfectly matched Jungkook's gradient black-to-white suit. Every step was accented with a sharp click, you in sleek black high-heels and him in glossy black oxfords, dangerous from head-to-toe.

Yes, Jungkook and you were that couple.

"Is that a t-shirt?" Taehyung snapped, switching to prodding Jungkook’s pecs, who grinned in response. You shrugged, the shoulders of your fur coat sliding down so that it now rested on your elbows, exposing your shoulders.

"He thought about not coming with one, but I advised him the other visitors would be too distracted by his sexiness to view your art," you explained, bowing as if you had done a great service.

"And I told her they would be to distracted with her amazing legs, but it's better not to cover them because I like looking," Jungkook chuckled, placing an arm around your waist and pulling you to him possessively.

Taehyung facepalmed.

"I regret paying matchmaker to the two biggest egos I know," he mumbled through his fingers, glaring at the two of you.

"Hey, we kept it low profile. Neutrals."

Taehyung pointed to your boyfriend's hair, pulled back into a sleek ponytail. "Hello? His hair is fucking purple."

You waved his comment away dismissively. "Well, besides that."

"You're a class-A asshole."

"Still makes me high class," you replied with a wink.

"This is really nice, hyung," Jungkook cut in between your bickering. "There’s quite a lot of people here already. I didn't know you were so talented and popular. As expected from my girl's best friend, eh?"

Taehyung winced, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning red. "Eh... it's not a big deal..." he muttered, but you could tell he was enjoying the praise.

"Of course, it is, Tae," you chuckled, pulling out of Jungkook's grasp to hug him, squeezing him between your fur-covered arms. "You've worked so hard to be able to display your paintings at such a nice venue. I'm proud of you."

Taehyung laughed shyly, hugging you back. "Ahaha... thanks, as usual." He planted a light kiss on the top of your head. "I'm happy you guys came."

You grinned. "Indeed. You needed visitors to match the space," you drawled, sweeping your arms in a grandiose gesture to the glass cases of Taehyung's paintings, crisp white walls, and black marble flooring.

Taehyung rolled his eyes, smiling despite being over your antics. "Not sure I need a high-end escort and his pimp sauntering around..."

"When are your parents arriving? I want to introduce them to Jungkook," you interrupted, tugging on Jungkook's arm and making his cheeks flush pink.

"Like this?! Are you serious, my parents are going to have a heart attack once they realize there's a male version of you!"

"Aw, come on, your dad loves seeing me!"

"That's because you both are always up to no good... fucking always pulling pranks on me... I'm actually glad they're stuck in traffic now..."

You slid your thumb into his mouth, smirking as you heard his muffled whine. He was trying to stay quiet, staring down at you with half-lidded eyes, whimpering as you rubbed his tongue with the pad of your finger. One of your legs was hooked around his waist and he was holding it up with one hand. His other between your legs, fingers hooking underneath your panties.

“Fuck, I love looking at you, Jungkook,” you whispered, leaning forward, shuddering at the feeling of his saliva pooling around your thumb, your own tongue snaking out and tracing the air right between his open lips.

Jungkook moaned softly and shoved two fingers inside your tight, wet pussy.

You pulled your thumb out and crashed your lips to his, letting your satisfied exhale into his throat, your name trapped between his lungs and your hungry mouth, kissing him deeply as he plunged his fingers in and out, pressing your body into the wall of the bathroom stall. Shivers up and down your spine, back arching to feel even more of his chest against yours, frustrated at the clothing between you and him, but still hot and exciting, your hands circling his head and playing with his ponytail, rolling your hips into his rough thrusts.

You tried to break free and moan, but Jungkook captured you with his lips, forcing your noises into his mouth to silence them, rubbing his erection against your hip and thigh, the sound between your legs getting louder because you were getting wetter, closer, your eyes cracking open and seeing his half-open too, staring at you with lust and love, determined to push you over the edge, even in the men’s bathroom where Kim Taehyung’s art exhibit was being held.

Hey, you both waited until you had a nice, long conversation with Taehyung’s parents where his mom drilled Jungkook with questions about what he did and what kind of person he was. His dad, in contrast, seemed to approve of Jungkook and gave him a hearty slap on the arm, telling him trouble and trouble often went well together. Then you and Taehyung’s dad had a praise fest about his son, which made Taehyung turn beet-red in embarrassment. Both of you meant it all, of course.

But, also, both of you enjoyed embarrassing Taehyung in public. It was fun.

Yeah, dads loved you.

You couldn’t imagine why that was.

All that aside, after Taehyung's parents bid their son goodbye, Jungkook dragged you into the men's bathroom and began to make out with your face.

He contained himself for a few hours. It was a valiant effort, living off only groping your ass a couple times, but a man can only take so much when you’re looking like a five-course meal and he’s aware that you’re willing to let him eat, you know?

No? Oh, well.

Maybe that’s just your problem.

Also, yes, maybe you discreetly teased him a couple times by rubbing your ass on his crotch and pressing your tits against his back. Maybe.

You lowered one of your hands, cupping your fingers around his length, sighing in his mouth, feeling how perfectly rock-hard he was, knowing you couldn’t have it and he couldn’t give it to you, not yet, but soon, his deep snarl at your touch, fuck, kisses intensifying, shoving his fingers into you all the way to the knuckle, the wet squish audible and obscene, the adrenaline of danger and satisfaction creeping you closer and closer to your high. His thumb came up and grazed your clit, making you close your eyes and rock your hips into his touch, moaning his name into his own mouth, his force of his fingers pushing his thumb against your throbbing clit hard and fast, the scent of black coffee and lush dragon fruit on his skin and yours, mixing with the sweetness of your orgasm as you wailed in glorious triumph, clutching his head with your hand and his waist with your leg, your other one shaking with strain as each pulse shook you, squeezing his clothed length in your hand, wanting it and pulling back to tell him just that in hot whispers, his soft moan against your mouth, whispering back, your name and his desire, his dark brown eyes nearly black with lust.

“Shit, you know how bad I want to fuck you, right now,” Jungkook panted.

“Please don’t.”

Huh?

You raised an eyebrow at the annoyed baritone voice. “Taehyung?”

“Do you know how long I’ve been standing here, knocking on this bathroom stall, you absolute horndogs?”

You heard him gritting his teeth, his voice nearly a deep growl. You did what any natural person would do.

Reached over and unlocked the door, letting it swing open to reveal your and Jungkook’s grinning faces.

His fingers remained very firmly inside your pussy, barely covered by the hem of your dress. You swept your arm back so your fur coat was out of the way. Always considerate. Taehyung stood at the opening of the door, hands on his hips, orange blazer flaring out with his posture, immediately throwing up his hands and jerking his head away once he realized that, yes, of course, you two would not bother covering up anything.

“Fucking – shit, get your hands off her, man, go home to do that–”

Jungkook began to slide his fingers out, scissoring them with a wet squish and you mewled, slightly exaggerated and performative.

“Oh my God, never mind, stop, leave them in there,” Taehyung snarled, realizing he was facing the mirror and therefore could still see both yours and Jungkook’s smug smirks. He abruptly turned ninety degrees, now facing the wall, giving you both the side eye. “The fuck is wrong with you people? Do you have any decency?”

“Sure, we do,” you chirped.

“Yeah, that’s why we’re in the bathroom,” Jungkook added, softly rubbing your clit and making you bite your lip, enjoying it very, very much.

A muscle in Taehyung’s eyebrow twitched. “Public bathroom,” he snapped, rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, what if it wasn’t me who walked in here? What if It was some goddamn stranger listening to this shit?”

“Speaking of which,” Jungkook mused, cocking a brow. “Normal people would just leave. Why did you stay and listen?”

You didn’t say anything. You were simply happily grinding on his hand, the gentle pressure creating a constant ecstasy that you were completely satisfied with, one hand hooked around Jungkook’s neck, waiting for Taehyung to answer with a huge, amused grin on your face. Taehyung knew everything about you.

It almost meant you knew everything about Taehyung.

He rolled his eyes. “You act like I’ve never heard her orgasm before. Big fucking deal.”

Jungkook gave him a pair of incredibly wide eyeballs that indicated that, yes, that was kind of a big deal.

“Tae was my first kiss.”

“What?’ Jungkook blurted, snapping his head back to you.

You shrugged. “We were, like, eight. Just wanted to know what kissing was.”

Jungkook blinked very rapidly, stunned.

His two fingers were still inside you.

You scrunched up your face, thinking. “We were also each other’s first head and fuck too. Although it wasn’t very good.”

“You were a bit shit,” Taehyung interjected.

“It took you five whole minutes to aim. Even a watermelon would be dry at that point.”

Jungkook was still trying to process that you were each other’s first kiss with his fingers knuckle deep in your pussy. “W… What? Why aren’t you guys dating?”

You snorted. “I can’t do that. He’s like my brother.”

Taehyung stuck his tongue out. “And she’s like my sister. That’s weird.”

Jungkook finally yanked his fingers out of you and threw out his hands in disbelief. “And being each other’s first times for – shit, basically everything – isn’t weird?”

Your eyes flickered to Jungkook’s soaked fingers, your cum stuck between them in viscous strings. Ooh, sexy. You licked your lips, breaking out in a pleased smirk. Taehyung spied what you were looking at and facepalmed. Jungkook seemed to notice too and turned to look at it, suddenly forgetting the whole discussion.

And put his cum-covered fingers into his mouth, moaning deliciously around them.

Taehyung made a horrified face in the mirror, making eye contact with you.

“Um, gross!”

“Eh, shut up, Tae, not like you haven’t done it in front of me before.”

“Well, I don’t wanna watch Jungkook do it,” he shot back, spinning around to glare at you. “He’s your boyfriend!”

You quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve seen other guys do it before when we’ve had threesomes. Plus, you’ve watched me open my mouth with other men’s cum in it so you could cum in my mouth too.”

Jungkook choked on his own fingers.

“WHAT?” he roared.

“You weren’t serious about them!” Taehyung flicked his hand, completely ignoring Jungkook. “And you’re my go-to when the girls I’m seeing want to experience a threesome, so I was just doing you a favor!”

Your boyfriend was having a mild heart attack and neither you nor Taehyung seemed to notice, too busy bickering about your strangely integrated sex lives.

“What’s the difference? It’s just Jungkook. You guys are friends.”

“Yeah, extra reason why I don’t want to sit around and imagine him slurping from your vagina. I gotta look into his eyes later!”

You raised your hands, shaking your head. “So what? You’ve seen my other sex partners in public and never said much about it. Why are you making such a fuss now?”

“Because!” Taehyung flung his hands, stamping a foot on the tile floor in frustration, his handsome features twisted into despair, hands on his head and messing up his dark brown hair. “Because you’re going to stop being my friend now that you’re serious about someone and I can’t do anything about it because that someone is Jungkook and I actually like the guy! I’m fucking happy for you and shit, but, fuck, fuck, what am I gonna do when you’re not in my corner anymore?”

Your jaw dropped, shocked.

“Tae, what are you talking about–?”

He spun around, about to run out, but you were faster, grabbing his arm and pulling him back, yanking him into a fierce hug. And, just like that, Taehyung was that awkward, weird kid in elementary school again, not wanting to admit he was scared and frightened of the big mean boys teasing him about his odd drawings and strange thought processes, calling him a dorky alien. He grabbed your shoulders, shivering, holding back tears.

“No one’s gonna protect me…” Taehyung sniffed, burying his face in your hair. “If you’re gone, I can’t be brave…”

“Hey, you know that’s not true,” you chastised lightly, squeezing him. “You’ve become strong, all on your own. You know that. That whole exhibit is filled with your art. You even got offers to buy some of your pieces. Isn’t that amazing?” You pulled back and placed your hands on Taehyung’s cheeks, smiling up at him kindly. He still looked gloomy and uneasy, lower lip sticking out. “Come on, you know I’m right, Van Gogh,” you teased, pinching his cheeks a little. He fidgeted, frown lessening. “I will always, always be in your corner. No matter what. No guy is going to make me stop being friends or supporting you. You need me to knock someone’s front teeth out, give me the time and place and I got your back.”

“That’s going to send you to jail,” he muttered, smiling slightly.

“Then I’ll go to jail. That’s just glorified detention because they give you free meals.”

He laughed, still with a tinge of anxiousness. “You promise you won’t stop being my best friend over some guy?”

You grinned. “You’ll always be my best friend, Tae. I just happen to really enjoy his company and his dick. You know, a girl has needs.”

He stuck his hand out childishly, pinky sticking out. “Pinky promise me.” Then he stuck his other hand out. “Actually, double pinky promise me.”

You crossed your wrists over each other and pressed your pinkies to his, squeezing his hands tightly.

“I promise I’ll always be your best friend.”

“Uh, guys, you’re kinda making me feel like a third wheel…”

Jungkook might as well have been a bathroom sink to Taehyung and you in this moment.

Taehyung nodded firmly to you. “Okay. You promised. You better keep it.”

You rolled your eyes. “When have I ever broken a promise to you?”

“Hmm, I guess you’re right…” All of a sudden, he looked down at your hands and wrenched his own out of them. “Oi! Where have those hands been, young lady?” He looked at his open hands with a repulsed scowl. “You better not have touched his dick and then my hands without washing yours! That’s disgusting!”

“Hey, I take offense to that,” Jungkook retorted heatedly. “My dick is perfectly clean and she didn’t get to touch me yet because you busted in and interrupted us–”

“What are you going on about, you’ve touched my hands after I’ve given handjobs! I didn’t hear you complaining!”

“He’s done what–?”

“I keep telling you that’s different, this is Jungkook, a man you actually love, and here I thought you were incapable of that.” Taehyung spoke over Jungkook, jabbing his finger into his palm to drive his point home. “You get that sparkly shit in your eyes when you talk about him and it makes me want to puke–”

“I do not get sparkly shit in my eyes, what the fuck does that even mean?”

“You literally will not shut up about how pretty he is!”

“He is pretty! Look at him!” You banished your arms in Jungkook’s direction like he was your first-place trophy on display, which he might as well be at this point with how much attention either of you were giving him. At least he looked the part.

Taehyung rolled his eyes exaggeratedly, throwing his whole head back. “I can give you pretty. You’ve been telling me I’m handsome all my life.”

“Why don’t we just have a threesome?”

Silence.

Both you and Taehyung jerked your heads to Jungkook, jaws dropped at his suggestion.

The door to the men’s bathroom opened and an old man bounced in, humming to himself.

He saw you.

He stopped, tilting his head. Then he looked from Jungkook to Taehyung and wiggled his eyebrows.

“Love triangle or sexy night, boys?”

Taehyung choked on air. “Not a love triangle.”

“Oooh, sexy night.” The old man gave you two thumbs up. “I’d love to join, but I’ll back out this time.”

You laughed heartily as Jungkook and Taehyung grabbed your arms, pulling you out of the men’s bathroom, not about to discuss a possible threesome in front of some old guy who vaguely offered to make it a foursome.

You made sure to give the old man a wink, sticking your head back in the open door to say, “Maybe next time, eh?”

The old man cackled and Taehyung slapped a hand over your mouth, dragging you out.

“Please shut up, I fucking swear…”

“So, why is it different?”

Somehow both you and Jungkook had dragged your best friend into your apartment and tied him to a chair. One of those nice wooden ones with plenty of openings to slip cotton rope through. Probably not what Kim Taehyung thought he was going to do right after his art exhibition, but judging by his peeved, unsurprised face, it wasn’t a completely unexpected result either.

You had pulled up another chair to sit in front of him, still wearing your fur coat, knees between his knees, mostly because Taehyung was forced to spread them because of how you tied the knots.

“I think I hate you,” Taehyung muttered.

“Nah.”

“At least a little bit.”

You slipped the shoulders of your coat down, exposing your skin, casually crossing your arms under your breasts and leaning forward, smiling sweetly at Taehyung. His dispassionate face basically said, ‘go-suck-your-own-dick’. He tried to pulled his arms free.

“Don’t rip your blazer.”

“Bite me.”

“You gonna answer my question?” you asked, redirecting the conversation.

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “I told you. It’s because I can tell you love him.”

You broke your playful demeanor for a second, smiling broadly. “Really?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, you dork.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever felt like more of a third wheel in my entire life even though you’re talking about how much you love me,” Jungkook said behind you. He was sitting on the couch, as the chairs had been repositioned in the living room.

Taehyung pursed his lips. “That’s why I got scared, you know…” He leaned forward a bit, pouting. “What if you spend so much time with him that you forget about me? What if you guys break up and you blame me?” If he was untied, he would be nervously picking at his lower lip with his right hand right now. Instead, he chewed on it, worried expression clouding his strong features.

You shook your head, reaching out to fluff his brown hair. “You think too much. Why would I blame you over a breakup? If anything, I’d be dragging you out so you can help me keep a record of how many people I can fuck in a night.”

Taehyung made a face. “Why can’t you be normal and cry while eating chocolate?”

“You know I don’t like chocolate.”

“You don’t like chocolate?” Jungkook choked in disbelief.

“I have to fuck my problems away, Tae. That’s the best way to deal with them.”

He rolled his eyes. “You need to see a therapist.”

“Nah, I got you.”

Suddenly Jungkook’s face appeared because you two, sitting on the coffee table.

“How do you not like chocolate?” he pressed, staring at you.

You blinked at him. “I mean, I don’t hate it. I’m just not crazy about it like some people. Isn’t that better for you? I can give you all the chocolate that I receive.”

This thought didn’t seem to have crossed Jungkook’s mind. He grinned, highly pleased with this result.

“You’re even going to give him your chocolate?” Taehyung gasped, affronted. “That’s it, this friendship is over. I can’t believe you would betray me like this!”

You placed your hands on his knees. Taehyung huffed.

“You want me to untie you now?” you asked, patting his thigh and ignoring his dramatic outburst.

“Why? I thought we were going to have a threesome.”

Both you and Taehyung whipped your heads to blink at Jungkook. He smiled innocently, which did not look innocent at all with his sleek purple ponytail and mischievous eyes.

“Nobody agreed to that.”

“Yeah, Jungkook,” you sided with Taehyung. “Nobody agreed to that.”

“Aw, come on,” he nudged, grinning. “You guys have obviously touched each other before, right? And I can totally trust hyung not to fall in love with you.”

“Because my preferred type wouldn’t hump me in a public bathroom,” your best friend muttered.

“I’m sensing judgement here, Kim Taehyung. Watch your mouth,” you warned.

“Choke on my dick.”

“We can start with that,” Jungkook chirped cheerfully.

“Why do you want this, anyway?” You narrowed your eyes at your boyfriend. “You never expressed any interest in threesomes before. I assumed you were too selfish for that.”

“I am.”

You raised an eyebrow.

Jungkook grinned devilishly.

“But I also wanna see you get spit-roasted.”

“Don’t–” Taehyung began.

Jungkook spread his legs, revealing his erection straining in his slacks. Taehyung snapped his head away, groaning an annoyance, disappointed but not surprised that your boyfriend had zero shame. Jungkook bit his lower lip, tiny mole underneath quivering, excitement and lust in his dark brown eyes, looking right at you eagerly. He purred your name. Taehyung visibly cringed.

“You know I would…” you drawled softly, reaching over to squeeze Jungkook’s thigh. “But I don’t think Tae is into it right now.”

“Yeah, I’d only do it if I was horny and desperate.”

“Then why do you have a boner?”

Both you and Taehyung whipped your heads down to see his dick trying to bust out of his pants.

He glared at it. “You traitor.”

“Are you talking to your dick?”

“Look,” Taehyung snapped, letting out a puff of breath and frowning at Jungkook. “I’m not immune, okay? She’s hot, sure. Absolutely one of the sexiest, most beautiful women I know.”

“Aw, so sweet!” you interrupted, smacking his leg in mock bashfulness.

“And,” he gritted, shooting you a scowl. “I might be horny and desperate, sure.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Jungkook inquired, smug smirk on his face.

“Well, you’ll get jealous, for one.”

Jungkook blinked, confused. “What?”

“Taehyung has a big dick.”

You said it so nonchalantly that Jungkook was speechless.

“Mhm.”

“Not as nice as Jungkook’s dick though.”

“Excuse me? I am offended.”

“You honestly need to improve your technique. You think your size alone is all that matters? Jungkook’s the whole package, great dick, cute smile, diligence, strength, always up for anything, perfect duality–”

“Shit, shut up about him, I get it, he’s the hottest thing to walk on this earth, now stop verbally jerking him, he’s not gonna agree–”

“Kiss him.”

You and Taehyung froze.

Eyes flickering to Jungkook, who raised an eyebrow challengingly.

“Kiss him,” he repeated.

Eyes back to Taehyung, who was breathing hard.

“Only because I’m horny and desperate,” he growled.

The corner of your lips ticked upwards.

“Got it bad, eh, Tae?”

You placed your hands on his thighs, sliding down, rising off your chair. You felt Taehyung’s muscles tense, narrowing his eyes. He tried to keep up his severe front, borrowing your tendency to use arrogance to hide your true feelings.

“Isn’t that you?” he challenged. “Need me to satisfy you even though you have Jungkook now?”

You smirked, seeing right through him. “You always give me such blessed service though.”

Something flared in his brown orbs, pupils expanding as you neared. “Don’t.” Your head tilted at his tone, almost pleading, and still you advanced, your soft inhale ghosting his lips. His gaze was on your face the entire time, swallowing hard, anticipation creeping into his stern expression.

“Don’t what?” you whispered teasingly.

“Don’t say it in front of him.”

“But you like it.”

“Yeah, well, he doesn’t need to know my embarrassing turn-ons.”

“What if I slip?”

He clenched his jaw. “Fuck, fine, whatever.”

Your hand reached up to cup his cheek, licking your teeth slowly, maintaining eye contact. Your words a low hiss, laced with pure lust.

“My good little angel, let this devil corrupt you.”

Taehyung whimpered and you closed in on his lips, kissing him deeply, straddling his lap, rolling your hips into his, voracious, greedy kisses, Taehyung gasping in your mouth as you bounced on his crotch, your spread legs causing the hem of your dress to rise, popping over your ass, moaning into his mouth as you worked him under you, his body familiar and comforting. His tongue encircled yours, whining for more, and you mumbled sweet nothings to him, remembering all the things he loved to hear, and he gave you all the things you loved, the neediness in his kiss, the desperation of his hips rising to add more friction. You weren’t exactly immune to Taehyung either. You could control yourself, normally.

But Jungkook gave you the green light, so you went all in.

Your hands were in his hair, tangled in the strands of black coffee, murmuring in his lips, sweet angel, and Taehyung moaned, fiercely thrusting his hips up and you sitting down on it, already wet, sighing satisfyingly at the feeling of his impressive length straining to reach your dripping heat, too many layers of fabric between them.

“Such a good boy doing such bad things,” you purred against his lips, amused at seeing your lipstick all over his mouth.

Taehyung looked up at you with glazed brown eyes, a tinge of unease in them. Maybe he didn’t want to show Jungkook his vulnerable side. You could understand that. You didn’t mind playing your role but Taehyung was more guarded. He didn’t like to be criticized or judged for the things he liked. You noticed his gaze flicker to Jungkook and then back to you.

You tilted your head and cradled his, running your fingers through his hair. “You want me to stop, I’ll stop,” you cooed gently, kissing his ear.

“I don’t want you to stop,” he breathed, so quietly you barely heard it. “I don’t want him to judge me.”

You chuckled. “I wouldn’t worry about that.”

Taehyung made a disbelieving noise.

“Something wrong?” Jungkook asked behind you, sounding curious and confused that his show was paused.

“Mhm, need you to take my coat,” you replied, pulling back, lowering your arms so Jungkook could stand behind you and remove it. You slid your hands out elegantly, seeing Taehyung’s messy dark hair and lipstick-stained lips. You heard Jungkook back up and you reached into Taehyung’s blazer, pulling out his handkerchief and dabbing at his mouth, carefully wiping it off.

“We can stop,” your reminded him gently.

“No,” he growled, frowning. “I’ve got a massive boner and it’s all your fault. Get me off.”

You grinned. “Alright, angel.”

You saw Taehyung bite his lip, shivering at your words. You couldn’t remember how this started, but it always worked. The roleplaying helped with the whole ‘having-sex-with-your-best-friend’ thing ten times less awkward, and it made it much easier for him and you to get off.

Unfortunately, it also was starting to make both of you much hornier while having sex with each other.

Whoops.

He clicked his tongue, raising his head, eyebrow cocked.

“Dirty little devil.”

You smirked. Taehyung’s voice was always sexier when he was aroused, deep and sultry.

One by one, you undid the buttons of his dress shirt, kissing at his exposed chest, the deep rich tone of his tan skin standing out against the white, his eyes closing at your touch, running your tongue down his sternum and blowing on it.

He shuddered, moaning your name, long and sweet.

You shifted, intending to push the chair behind you back, but it was gone. Instead, your ass backed up into a pair of very muscular legs. You paused, turning your head to see behind you.

“Jungkook–”

A firm hand stopped you, forcefully jerking your head back to Taehyung’s chest.

“Look forward,” Jungkook commanded.

A shiver down your spine at his tone. You smirked, peering up at Taehyung, who smiled.

“He jealous?”

“I’m not,” Jungkook snapped, grabbing your ass.

“A little bit,” Taehyung chuckled, and now he was smirking too.

Eerily similar to you, because who else would he learn such a devious expression from? You taught him well. You hummed, yanking Taehyung’s shirt open and pushing it to his shoulders, his naked torso now exposed to your eyes and mouth.

“Can’t imagine why. This was his idea.”

Taehyung jerked his head to you as you lowered yours to his chest. “What?”

But your lips closed around his nipple and he gasped, sputtering, confused, and then moaning as you moaned, Jungkook yanking down your panties and slapping your ass with his open palm, the sting added to the disapproving hiss of your name.

“He’s not supposed to know. I didn’t do all that acting for nothing,” he snarled, and your response was wiggling your ass, nipping your teeth over Taehyung’s chest, his handsome features twisted in ecstasy and pleasure, the tip of your tongue teasing his other nipple, pushing it around with your strong, wet, warm muscle.

��Whoops.”

Taehyung narrowed his eyes at you and your not-so-innocent tone.

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “Such a bad little devil. You need some punishment.”

“He already knew?” Taehyung gritted, glaring daggers at your grinning face, saying nothing, your deft fingers undoing his pants. “Answer me, woman.”

Jungkook was positioning your lower half, ass up, legs spread, pussy exposed to his eyes and hand, your dripping core tense with anticipation. When he spoke, his voice was deep and silvery, laced with danger and desire.

“Answer him.”

And he spanked your pussy, making you cry out and leak between his fingers, the sudden sting of pain so nice, and you had the audacity to continue giving Taehyung that infuriatingly smug expression as you dragged his pants and underwear to his knees, freeing his stiff length that stuck straight up, your body repeatedly lurched forward by Jungkook’s open palm on your soaked slit, your juices splattering on his hand and the inside of your thighs. With a smirk, you lowered your head.

“Mhm, he knew… ah, fuck, yes, Jungkook, just like that…” you sighed in satisfaction, tongue snaking out and wrapping around the head of Taehyung’s cock, bobbing your mouth up and down like that, stimulating just the tip, paying extra attention to the underside of the head. “Sorry, Tae.”

“Swallow me whole,” he growled. “Now.”

You were ready to do it, of course, but you felt Jungkook’s hand clap onto your leaking, heated pussy lips, and the other danced up your back, so you waited, letting him grab your head and push you down, not quite as roughly as he would have if he was actually being mean, but with enough pressure that you knew he just wanted to do the physical action, wanted to feel the power even if there was no maliciousness behind it.

Your lips closed around Taehyung’s pulsing, hard length, taking it all, a familiar girth stretching out your jaw. You made a light gagging sound as the head hit the back of your throat, not quite suffocating, but enough to indicate, stop pushing me, and Jungkook lifted the weight off your head, still gripping your hair, messing up your perfected style of the night.

“That’s a good girl, swallowing all that dick,” he purred, sliding a finger into you.

You whined, clenching your walls around it, squeezing tight, wanting more.

“Suck.”

You did, obediently, looking up at Taehyung, his head tipping back, low moans escaping his throat as your tongue squirmed at the base of the head in your throat, muscles clinching around his cock, your lips around the base. You swiped your tongue down, stretching it out even farther, past your lips, slurping nosily at his balls, flicking them rapidly with the tip, feeling him get harder and harder, twitching against the roof of your mouth, bending a little due to the lack of space.

“Fuck, let go of her head, fuck!”

Jungkook released you and you grabbed Taehyung’s hips, starting a fast, intense pace, swirling your tongue around his cock, another long finger wiggling into your slick folds, thrusting into you from behind, your legs shaking with strain, Taehyung moaning louder and louder, filling up your apartment with his lust.

“Don’t fucking stop, fuck, you have the devil’s tongue, a-ah, it’s so fucking good…”

Jungkook scissored his fingers in you, the squelching sound loud and lewd, and you spied Taehyung tipping his head back, panting, watching Jungkook finger you from behind, his other hand smacking your ass periodically to watch it bounce and hear you moan, your hips bucking back into his hand every time you ascended from Taehyung’s cock.

“Give her another,” he gasped. “Stuff her more.”

Jungkook snickered. “For an angel, you’re all about the punishment, hm?”

But he did as he was told, shoving another finger in you and you whined, nearly popping your mouth off Taehyung’s thick length, stopping only because of imposing baritone.

“Don’t you fucking dare. Take it all. Or are you telling me you can’t? Telling me you’ve lost your touch?”

You went back down, narrowing your eyes, rising to his challenge. Your best friend knew everything about you and therefore he knew that the second he made it a question of your ability, well, that brought out the best in you.

“Fuck!”

Also made you almost vacuum his dick, but he asked for it.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuuuuuuuck!”

Tighter, faster, tongue all over, nearly forgetting Jungkook was touching you at all because Taehyung had doubted you and you weren’t having that shit, fuck no, not even with Jungkook’s free hand snaking between your legs and feeling for your clit, rubbing it at the same furious pace you were blowing Taehyung’s jerking cock, tipping your head back and angling it so the head scraped against the roof of your mouth, locking your knees to prevent the shudders of pleasure from ruining your rhythm, so good, fuck, feeling so good with the pumping of Jungkook’s powerful fingers, electric satisfaction radiating from your throbbing clit, clutching Taehyung’s hips so hard he was getting indents from your nails, determined to get him there before you, and, by the sound of his breathless cries of your name and the trembling of his impressive girth, he was there.

“Yes, a-ah, you’re so good, so fucking good, I’m gonna cum, oh, fuck!”

His orgasm exploded, flooding your mouth with a gush of saltness, thick strings of cum painting the back of your throat, and you gulped it all down greedily, eyes rolling back, the tense coil inside you snapping and drenching Jungkook’s hands with your own orgasm, your legs unlocking and giving out, shaking and flinching as wave after wave of vicious pleasure flooded through you, Jungkook’s strong arms holding you up, moaning at the feeling of your pussy convulsing around his fingers, still lightly rubbing your clit through your orgasm, whines and whimpers crammed in your throat due to Taehyung’s cock in your mouth, sliding all the way to the base and swallowing around it, because you knew he loved it, wanted it, craved it, groaning carnally, the head swelling and pulsing, nearly suffocating you.

“Feels so f-fucking good… a-ah, yeees…”

You stayed in the position for as long as you could, a good minute, before backing up with a choked gasp, clutching Taehyung’s thighs, eyes drifting up to his and he looked down at you, fucked-out, content, grateful, black-brown curls falling all over his forehead and cheeks, so casually sexy and perfect.

“Good angels always taste the best,” you rasped, licking your abused lips.

Taehyung grinned.

“Untie me, devil.”

“Damn, you do have a big dick.”

“… Stop looking.”

“Why? I wanna see what she put in her mouth.”

You teased the head with the tip of your tongue, smirking. Taehyung looked away, ears turning red.

“You two are shameless.”

“Yeah, but you like it,” you laughed, straddling his lap, casually leaning over him to untie him. You heard Jungkook make a clicking sound and you assumed he was making a frame with his hands and miming taking a photo.

“Stop that,” Taehyung muttered, face full of your covered breasts. “Oi, take your clothes off if you’re gonna squash my face with your tits.”

You rammed your chest into his face to muffle his protests.

“Mmm, yes, no faster way to make me limp than you sucking Jungkook’s face off.”

You were too busy grabbing Jungkook’s naked ass and moaning in his mouth, tongue on tongue, purple strands brushing against your forehand, his hands on your ass and squeezing it roughly, rutting his rapidly hardening cock against your thigh.

“You want me to leave you guys alone?”

You broke the kiss, snapping your head around to see Taehyung raising an eyebrow at you from the head of your bed, completely naked. Jungkook continued slowly humping your thigh, peaking pre-cum all over and adding to his own stimulation.

“Are you done being an insufferable shit or what?” you glowered.

“Mmm, no.”

“Hmph, fine, just fuck me from behind then if you’re so needy,” you sighed, turning back to Jungkook’s amused smirk.

“No. I want the mouth again.”

You and Jungkook shared a confused look. “Huh, why?” you both said at the same time, looking at him in unison.

Taehyung lifted his chin defiantly, pointing to you. “I wanna stuff my dick into your mouth and fuck your face because you tricked me.”

You gasped, feeling slighted. “I told you it was Jungkook’s idea, why am I getting punished? You schemed against me first!”

He shrugged. “You corrupted him so, technically, it’s all inherently your fault.”

You protested as Jungkook laughed, pushing you into position despite you verbally fighting back.

“What! All I did was exist! Is it my fault that Jungkook was thirsting after my ass and you decided it would a taste of my own medicine, only to have it backfire in your face? And what if I wanna look at his handsome face? Huh? Why am I not getting a say in – mhpf!”

You yelped as Jungkook and Taehyung shoved your face first into Taehyung’s crotch, his semi-hard cock smacking you in the cheek and getting a mouthful of his nuts.

“Lick.”

They both said it at the same time. You saw them share a look of surprise, shocked that they were thinking the same thing, ignoring you.

Hey, nobody ignores you.

You wrapped your lips around one of his balls and sucked, tongue surrounding it, causing Taehyung to squeal and spread his legs, his cock swelling instantly, especially as your tongue poked out and lapped at the other while sucking intently.

“Good little devil,” Jungkook praised, patting you on the head before backing up, leaving you to rearrange Taehyung’s nuts with your mouth, licking and sucking all over, him gasping and moaning above you, falling back against the headboard.

“You’re crazy, fucking crazy…”

You switched sides, pressing your lips into his crotch to stuff your mouth full before sticking your tongue out and wiggling it on the underside of the other, his thick length now hitting you in the nose, and you realized Taehyung wasn’t going to help you with this, so you internally sighed and reached up to grab his dick and stroke it slowly as you continued your make-out session with his nuts.

Taehyung was chanting your name over and over like it was a prayer, as if he was saying it in attempt to ask for his soul to be saved.

You felt the bed bow and you lifted your head as far as it could go, which wasn’t very far because you still had one of Taehyung’s balls still in your mouth. You were still sucking on it.

He moaned above you, clutching your pillows for dear life.

You heard a condom being opened and felt Jungkook’s knees spread yours, deep silvery voice purring your name.

“Wanna see you take two dicks at once, naughty devil,” he teased, pressing the head of his cock against your soaked opening.

You unlatched your mouth and Taehyung seemed to see stars for a hot second, reeling.

“Hope you’re prepared, sweet angel,” you taunted, and then you swallowed his dick.

“Fucking shit!”

You moaned around his cock, letting it fill you to the throat, Jungkook’s perfect length thrusting into you at the same time, stretching you out deliciously, his own moan adding to your pleasure. There was just something about Jungkook’s moan, the longing, the possessiveness, the love. It made you wetter every time, bringing newfound energy to your meticulous sucking of Taehyung’s cock, who finally seemed to get his bearings and remember what the fuck was going on and what he wanted to do in the first place, because he finally straightened, large hands fitting around your head, pushing your hair back.

“You know why you’re so good at sucking dick?”

You tried very hard not to roll your eyes, already knowing what was coming. You decided to focus on Jungkook’s cock instead, pumping in and out of you, powerful, deep strokes, his hands gripping your hips, trying so hard to please you, and he was good at it, hitting all your favorite spots that made you squirm back against him.

“Because I let you suck mine,” Taehyung growled, holding your head and thrusting into your throat.

Mmmhmm, you thought to yourself. Not that he was wrong, because he wasn’t, being your first and all, but, come on, you didn’t get all your skills from sucking one dick, no matter how amazing Taehyung’s was. Oh well, you let it slide, simply enjoying not having to do much as your best friend fucked your face and your boyfriend pounded your pussy.

Ah, bliss.

The feeling of your mouth being filled and used, stroking Taehyung’s hips with your fingertips, elbows on the bed, legs spread open for Jungkook to slap his crotch into your ass wetly, back to front, a constant encompassing ecstasy that you welcomed, letting them command the pace, hands on your head and hands on your ass, familiar hands, loving hands, because even if Taehyung didn’t want to take you on dates and wake up next to you every day, he still loved you, still made sure he didn’t actually hurt you, careful to thrust hard but not deep, or thrust deep but not hard.

Jungkook wanted to take you on dates and hold you on his arm like his trophy and be waltzed around as yours, so… romantic? It was your version of romance, anyway.

And sex.

Lots of sex.

Fuck, he was so good at fucking you, leaning down, giving you more, chuckling as he heard you moaning around Taehyung’s cock, faster, harder, yes, fuck, yes, so good, your noises trapped in your chest, Taehyung increasing the speed, breathing shallowing.

“Fuck, yes, tighter, give it to me, you dirty devil,” he growled and you obeyed, closing your lips and pressing your tongue against the bottom, sandwiching his length in your mouth, your pussy also squeezing Jungkook harder, basking in his sinful moan, enamored with his voice and the way he said your name, never getting enough.

“A-ah, you feel so good, your pussy is so fucking good, gonna make me cum…”

So rough, so intense, so full of cock, keeping your holes tight, relishing in the way they forced themselves into your mouth and pussy, heady and intoxicating pleasure, you tipping over the edge, wailing around Taehyung’s thick girth as you spilled onto Jungkook’s rock-hard length, mind-numbing satisfaction that spread all over, hot and melting into you. Your walls violently spasmed and caused Jungkook to gasp, cock twitching and jolting inside you, shooting thick spurts of cum that filled the condom, and he buried himself all the way in, a wanton moan of your name echoing off your bedroom walls, savoring the feeling of you milking him, gripping your sides and squeezing you lovingly.

Suddenly, Taehyung yanked his cock out of your mouth and you coughed, startled at the abrupt loss, only for him to orgasm all over your face, hot white strings shooting out of his glistening cock and his hand guiding them, painting your cheeks and open mouth, dripping onto your tongue and clinging onto your swollen lips.

“Tae! What the fuck?!”

He snickered, smearing the residual cum on the side of your frown, winking.

“Blessed service, eh, you devil?”

“Is it gonna be like this every time we hang out now?”

You climbed onto Jeon Jungkook’s lap, kissing him deeper, trapping his slim waist in between your thighs, his hands sliding up your skirt, moaning into your mouth as Kim Taehyung smacked you in the shoulder blades, the sound masked by the obscenely loud music of the club as onlookers watched you and Jungkook with increasing interest.

Probably all dreaming of threesomes with you two.

“Hello, you two are supposed to be helping me getting laid, not getting laid right in front of me!”

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #taekook x reader #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #taehyung smut #taehyung x you #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you

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justanotherpersonsuniverse · 4 years

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Miraculous hero form headcannons

You know what’s bothered me? How all of the hero designs like, change the eyes and hair and stuff, but it doesn’t for Marinette. So I decided to make some head cannons that do.

These are my personal rules/headcannons on what happens to anyone’s appearances when using the miraculouses. This doesn’t entirely follow canon but what does on this blog?

Ladybug- Okay so using Marinette as an example, I do say that her hair in civilian form IS blue, but like a dark blue. Dyed and probably faded a bit. Same with the eyes. However how I write the ladybug changing her appearance, is that it takes the holder’s colors, and saturates them to a degree. Marinette’s hair turns really blue- and her eyes, which were already pretty light blue, turn almost silvery. Almost inhumane in the eyes. Very.. ethereal.

So if a character with brown eyes put the ladybug on, their eyes would either turn gold or red.

Cat- Okay, like canon, their eyes go all catty. Their hair also gets super fluffy and reacts like a catch bristling and getting poofy. Maybe it gets slightly darker too? Idk, I’m okay with what canon has, they already have the characters going catgirl/cat boy/nyanbinary- anyways tEETH

Fox- OKAY WE’RE GOING OFF CANON HERE CAUSE FUCK CANON! First, the eyes turn sharp sort of like the cat, except there a purple gradient to their eyes. To match Trixx’s. Their hair gains either a gradient of white, red, or both. I did this for Alya in the PN au, she gets purple eyes. FANGS

Bee- Also going off canon here, the rest of this shit is mostly going off canon. Blue and gold eyes to match Pollen. Orange/yellow/gold tint or ombré to hair, along with black stripes or streaks.

Turtle- Golden eyes to match Wayzz. Nino already has sort of golden eyes they just get more vibrant. Their hair as lightens as well. That’s kinda it.

Butterfly- Purple irises. Except unlike the fox, it’s more like a lavender color. This can look either soft and nice, or cold and intimidating.

Peacock- golden/orange/pink irises with optional dark blue scalera. Their skin gets that tainted purple look too. Always eye shadow. Always purple.

Dragon- The underside of their hair turns gold or red and also sUPER FLUFFY. Kagami goes full Ryuko Matoi here idk what to tell you. Eyes become that golden and red like they do in canon, I love that. tEEF

Snake- FANGS AND EYES, THATS IT! Golden scalera, with either a darker or lighter yellow for the actual irises.

Monkey- Hair gets a golden gradient and there’s flecks of gold in their eyes too. Maybe teeth too. Monkeys have teefers.

Horse- The irises becomes either pure black, or almost silver/white/paler version of the original color. Trippy in some way. Maybe the scalera changes. I really dig the whole white hair thing they have in canon so that too. Dreads, ties, undercuts, Kalki likes to style her holder’s hair man,

Rabbit- There’s a bit of a white glow to it. Not faded and glassy, but definitely lightened somehow. whenever the user uses burrow their definitely eyes glow white though. The pupil is definitely white or has a white outline. Maybe a clock look? Idk. That’s it though. It makes them look almost alien in a way. Not bizarre and definitely animal-like, like the others, but different in a way that makes them look.. well.. not themselves.. at least not anymore..

Mouse- Hair goes up into buns to resemble mouse ears if they have enough hair. If not. It just gets hella curlier. Maybe frosty tips.

I like what I came up with, if you see kwami swaps from me or any drawing of the miraculous bbs, expect this shit. Cause god knows I never stick to the canon designs if I can help it.

#Miraculous ladybug #miraculous headcanon #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #chloe bourgeois #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #gabriel agreste #nathaniel kurtzberg #kagami tsurugi #luka couffaine #kim le chien #max kante #alix kubdel #writing

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daaziscoolbesties · 3 years

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i yearn for one(1) thing only, and that is to have a nice, simplistic, cartoonish artstyle. an artstyle that doesnt rely on anatomy, but the "movement" of the drawing, if you get what i mean.

i dont want realistic proportions and traditional colors and basic poses and gradient shading, i want funky lil dudes in funky poses with funky styles littering my sketchbook :( but alas i havent figured out how to develop that kind of style yet, my brain wants anatomy to look nice but also i dont want to draw eyes. i dont want to take time out of my day to learn how to draw lips i want to draw a line that extends past the characters face. i dont want all my characters to have pointy chins with curved cheeks i want their heads to be round and friend-like or full of sharp edges depending on their personalities and styles. i want to give them all not-quite human ears, blob feet, simple faces, but at the same time i want enough detail to convey the story or emotion im trying to tell.

ive spent so much time recently agonizing over how to use 3d model websites, using real-life references and tracing over them for practice, color-picking from real images to try and do realism and failing miserably, but you know whats easier than that? funky little dudes. little dudes who do not care if their legs are too long or their hair is too bouncy. i dont want my characters to look human.

ive spent enough time on the artfight website to realize that most people who classify their characters as "human" have the most basic ass designs (no offense to people who like basic human designs its just not my thing) or its like dnd-medieval style outfits which i cant draw for the life of me (ive tried). again no offense to people who actively enjoy and draw characters like that. i just need my dudes to have that certain,,, off-ness to them. tails are cool. wings are swag (especially if they arent even like,, fully attached,, ), elf ears are so wonderful to me no matter how much theyre overused, horns are so much fun to draw, and colors!! i have no knowledge in the color theory department so this works great for me!! the only thing i really know is dont shade with black, other than that i just colorpick from references usually but i dont want to do that!! i want the colors to hurt people's eyes but in a satisfying way. like the character's design is so nice to look at that you dont mind your eyes hurting a bit. like how im enjoying writing this post even though its 2 am and the brightness on my computer wont go any lower.

and then another thing ive noticed from being on the artfight website is that a lot of people classify their characters that are anthro/have anthro features under humanoids/monsters. like i made a google form to find some people to attack and someone sent me in a character with some sort of animal (wolf? idk) arms and legs. like dude!! peak character design i love her. but me personally? i cant draw that shit, its so hard for me. i tried a while back and its just Not my thing. nothing against furries i just. cant. and i dont want to either.

and i got another submission that i accidentally deleted that was like full anthro/wolf-like like my comrade,,, i cannot draw animals what makes you think i can draw an animal who acts like a human lmao. i can do like. very basic tails, and also animal ears but i cant do the arms and legs and such i just dont know the anatomy, and i know i was talking about how i dont want to care about anatomy but i feel like for anthros you really do need to know at least basic animal anatomy so you know how the limbs look and shit and i dont have that knowledge and dont feel like gaining it.

and then there were some submissions that i absolutely adored. there was one that like, was vaguely human shaped but definitely was not a human. they had a dark-ish lavender colored skin and horns and tusks and like goat ears and a sorta fluffy tail with spikes on it and they had wings and such and they were such a pleasure to draw i love them. and they had a fairly simple outfit too, nothing too complicated. and then i also enjoy object head characters, theyre so neato to me. i got one of those and i really wish i had the motivation to work on it cause it looks so fun.

i want to make funky characters but id have nothing to do with them because the only book i ever tried writing (key word tried - never got past planning it out) had strictly human characters in it, and most of the books i read are humans/humans with powers in situations specific to them so id have no idea what lore to make with the dudes. assuming i have the motivation to make lore and backstory because honestly i just really enjoy character designing its super duper fun.

(side note a song about trucks doing the deed came on just now and its interrupted my flow, apologies).

i only have three actual characters right now. one is an original roleplay oc whos design is literally athletic shorts, an oversized long sleeved grey sweatshirt, long purple hair, and demon horns. the second one is my persona whos design some sorta medival knight outfit kinda thing? but not ugly it looks really cool (idk one of my friends designed it bc i won some contest from him but the drawing was on a super small scale so idrk the details,,,) with a plague doctor mask and crown, and shoulder length wavy brown hair, dyed bright pink at the end. and then my last one im not too comfortable using other places because theyre a character my friend is using in the story hes writing, and thats really the only place theyve been used. but theyre easily my favorite and im already writing a ton so ill talk about them too.

they're a sorta elf species thing from another planet, with pale green skin and pointed ears. they also have a tail, its like,, super thin, but with a feathery bit at the end. probably not the texture of a feather but i dont know how else to describe it. they have short, curly, almost-draco-malfoy-blonde hair that when it gets too long they can put in a man bun. their eyesight is kinda shitty so when they got to earth, they were exploring some supply closets around the airship. drop off area. thing. like airport but for rocketships and also fancier. yeah. they were exploring that area and found a nice big pair of round glasses with grey frames. and they also found a cowboy-style hat and a sharpie so they wrote their name on the underside of the brim of the hat and stole the hat and glasses (but left the sharpie in the supply closet).

yeah theyre my favorite, my absolute beloved, my child, so cool. i want more characters like them but with maybe a bit more snazzier designs. theyre super cool and all but they could have more pizzazz if they werent in a story where its too late to give them more pizzazz. i just want to be able to give my characters thigh-high boots with a bunch of buckles and fluffy hair with tons of accessories crammed in and abnormally large and long ears that can harbor many piercings and horns that can hold rings on them and special little details on their outfits like who knows what but i dont have any characters to do that too, so i have to make them from scratch, which is always hard especially when you have artblock.

and i also have like 17 characters i need to fully draw, line, and maybe color for artfight before august 1st. so i dont know. i have many things to do and plenty of time to do it but instead i spend my time halfway watching repetitive youtube videos that get boring or sleeping all damn day because i stay up too late doing things like this or i just do nothing at all and its tiring and frustrating but i also feel nothing about it like theres no consequence if i dont do it besides you know. not doing it, not gaining that experience, not making something i enjoy.

so i should do it but i dont for whatever reason, i think its called executive dysfunction but im not sure. this post started out very differently than it ended and i said somewhere up there that i was writing this at 2 am but now its almost 3. this is so many words why couldnt i have put this energy into something productive

#long post #sorry its so messy but like i said its almost 3 am and i dont want to go back and format all this #i might come back and make it look nicer in the morning #maybe not who knows #i just checked and this is 1.5k words what the hell

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s-themusician · 4 years

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It is raining today. It always rains in late July; a curse of the chandelier.

I saw someone who looked like you on the bus. The person had the exact same shade of eyes and hair as you, except without the dyed gradient. But the same shade of green and brown. I nearly had a heart attack when I saw her. She looked so much like you, I half expected her to look at me and wave. She even has the same fashion style as you. I know it’s not you though, and you don’t have family here.

But dear god, that was startling.

It’s been so long since I’ve been back, and the past few weeks have been rough with nostalgia. Today I see someone so strikingly similar to the you I imagine in my head, and all of a sudden I’m nine again, walking to the field to start gymnastics and going to math class and making the same eye contact. Maybe my mind has been too flustered and busy with errands; I see someone and jump to conclusions.

I think my mind is tired. Like I said, when was the last time I properly saw you? For all the talk about the height of technology, you can call me old fashioned, but screens don’t work the same way. Video call isn’t the same as real life interaction. And the mask. Here, we have to wear masks. I can only see your eyes staring back at me from the face of a stranger. And instantaneously, I hate the mask. I want to see more of this person’s face because I’m too stubborn to give up on the hope that it would resemble yours. All the same, I suddenly feel grateful for the mask, because it disguises my shock, and maybe I’m too much of a coward to see what lies under yours. If it does or does not look like the face I know.

Maybe I’m imagining things. In the moment, I was so surprised. What an obscure sorrow it is. I meet the eyes of a stranger and nostalgia forces its way into my mind, forcing me to relive every moment I’ve had with those eyes.

#i nearly had a heart attack #oh gosh that was scary #please let this be the last nostalgia slap #sspeaks

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callistochan87 · 3 years

Photo

Me, in the description of Sailor Callisto's picture:

Celeste usually shows up whenever I drew Callisto. Sailor Eos and the male fairy (Ryoku and Celeste…two peas in a pod…those names go perfectly together 🙃) unfortunately don’t make the cut nearly as much, the pains of not being the main characters. Also, Eos’ uniform makes me pre-emptively scream in terror now (although it…might not be so bad in this style?)

Yeah, I had to actually test it and see for myself. I’d started this, set this aside for a bit, and then finally finished it up.

Poor girl hasn’t been drawn in 20 years. No one outside of Sailor Callisto got any love, and that is a very scarce love. Her profile somehow didn’t make the cut from what Wayback decided to save, so I only remember the vaguest hints. Her personality was sports. She had a sword because she was the “““AU”““ equivalent of Sailor Venus, and manga Venus had a sword. Yes. Perfect logic. 🙃

I actually referenced SilverSkye’s 2002 picture more than anything because nit’s one of the only few that survived Wayback’s decimation, so it’s the only colour one I have. Which sucks, because I remember requesting toooons of images and some were really amazing but...backups...what is that...I didn’t even back them up onto a floppy disk, never mind that a floppy disk corrupts real easily, as I have learned.

Bless you, SilverSkye, wherever you are, I hope you are happy with your life and I thank you for putting up with 14-going-on-15-year-old me’s bullshit.

Anyway it was the only colour picture of her with her sword, although I cross-referenced it with the original inks I drew (scan maybe later when I feel lazy and don’t have to go to bed), and went with the original design, which is...similar, but less elaborate. But I’m pretty sure the blade was supposed to be crystal. You can kind of see hints of transparency there in the SilverSkye picture, barely.

Her uniform wasn’t too terrible, actually. The transparent bits? Sucked. The rainbow effect itself wouldn’t have been bad if Procreate could do gradients--I had to blob these out by hand and smudge like hell, but the actual shading was just a multiply layer over white, nothing fancy (what little shading there is in this style, at least).

The hair was more of a pain in the ass. I do remember that my intention was that the rainbow bits weren’t her actual hair colour, like the blue-haired Ami or pink-haired Chibiusa. No, the white was her real colour and the rainbow bits were a deliberate dye job. The blue kerchief, which was...God, that was a thing at the time, wasn’t it? Anyway the bandana hid the transition, because apparently a 14 year old girl who is willing to go to the effort of dying sections of her hair all the colours of the rainbow isn’t willing to commit to the crown of the head. It’s a shame. I’d kept her hair all white for long enough that by the time I got around to sticking the rainbow bits in, I was almost disappointed--she looked good all in white, and it wouldn’t not have worked.

Also. Sailor Eos. Eos. Goddess of the dawn. What happens at dawn? Colour. Lots of colours? what has lots of colours? a RAINBOW 10/10 good job me this makes 1000% sense, yes, this coming from the person who chose music as the powers of a senshi named Callisto, i make gud senshi

If Callisto gets Celeste, it’s only fair Eos gets Ryoku, who is essentially Artemis but less lovable. Putting aside the irritating personality I described, his outfit it...well, I’m not going to say it’s not bad, because it is, but it’s not bad because it’s bland and a little weird. It’s basically Celeste’s outfit but for a guy, and with a jacket. It doesn’t go into hilariously over the top 2001 fashion or anything, mostly because I had no idea what guys really wore outside t-shirts and jeans, and...well, look at human Artemis, you want to go with something a little more alien than a t-shirt.

Although his personality sounds a bit like how I viewed most guys while I was a freshman in high school. When you’re 14 boys are obnoxious, crude, and think they’re hot shit, so viewed through that lens it’s almost what you’d expect for a teenager (Ryoku was 18, because that seemed ~mature~ at 14), or at the very least, a character written up by one.

Gotta admit, I’m not sure this was nostalgic, since I gave up well before Eos actually showed up in the story, but it was a nice throwback to a character I haven’t drawn since 2002.

x-posted to DeviantArt

#sailor eos #otaku senshi #my art #my stories #My characters #fan senshi #rainbow #fairy

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queerwalrus · 6 years

Text

You Can't Shake The Devil Tree And Expect An Angel To Fall Out

Remember this post? Yeah, I needed it so much I wrote it.

Read it on AO3 H E R E

After a week aboard the Walrus, late at night, during a game of cards, Logan calls John Silver a bastard. It’s meant with affection, the teasing smile already plastered on his face before he opens his mouth, but John flinches nonetheless, draws back from the word as though he expects it to hit him.

No one on the Walrus thinks much of it. Every man aboard had one reason or another to have turned his back on civilisation. Apparently, they had tripped over Silver’s, and as far as they were concerned, that was that - John Silver told society to fuck off with emphatic cannon fire and larceny because he was, factually, a bastard. A simple explanation for a far more complex man.

John Silver is deeper than the sea, more vengeful than a ghost, more tangled than a gordian knot, and none of them know it yet.

***

He’s tiny, is the boy in the door to Thomas and his brothers’ schoolroom, like an imp or a fae from the Irish fables the kitchen maid is all too happy to tell Thomas while she peels potatoes and pushes her red hair back from her freckled face. He’s got curly dark hair that falls long into his face in such a manner that blocks it from view, a style that Thomas knows his father would never allow, but his eyes - the eyes that peek through those curls, alarmed and disbelieving - those eyes are the most familiar thing Thomas knows. He sees them in the mirror every morning, after all.

“This is John,” says the nursemaid, “and he is to be your brother from now on. Your father the Earl has agreed to take him in as his ward, to give him his name and his care.”

Thomas reaches out for the tiny boy without thinking.

John returns the embrace remarkably eagerly, clutching at the back of Thomas’ shirt with small, chubby hands.

He wouldn’t let go for many, many years to come.

***

John Silver steals and lies and cheats and does it all with a roguish wink and a smile so charming it could melt the collar off a priest, and James Flint is going to kill him with his own two hands as soon as that gold is safely stowed, those fucking blue eyes be damned.

No, that is a lie.

John Silver lies and steals and manipulates and does it all with a roguish wink and a smile that could melt the collar off a priest and tempt a Saint down the wrong kind of path, and James Flint is fucking screwed because John Silver has eyes that are just the same shade of blue as Thomas Hamilton’s had been, and James has always been powerless against eyes like that.

John Silver, at least, doesn’t have unsupportable ideas about bringing law back to Nassau, and James will always be grateful for small mercies. What John Silver does have, however, is a fucking death wish.

Between attempting to sell the schedule to Vane and then memorizing it to deliberately fuck up everything James had planned for the next six weeks and then somehow getting involved with a plot that included both Anne Bonny and Eleanor Guthrie, James is certain that Silver’s ultimate goal is tricking his way into an early grave.

An early grave that will in fact be well-funded, because he’d looked up at James and said ‘we might be friends by then’ and James had seen those eyes and heard ‘are you the liaison sent by the admiralty?’ and found himself agreeing to something he’d never wanted, but seemed to have ended up wishing for anyway.

And so here they are, James with a musket ball in his shoulder and John with a botefeux that’s still lit and a cannon that’s still smoking and both of them with a mutiny playing out in front of them, and the only thing that is still clear and unhazy in James’ sight are those eyes - John Silver’s bluer than blue eyes that are so familiar and so unknown all at once.

When he goes under the water, he sees Thomas smiling and reaching out to him, and then suddenly he’s become Silver, a transformation that seems to happen around the eyes without them ever changing. He’s dying and he knows it and all he can see is those eyes, and if you asked him he couldn’t tell you which of them the eyes belonged to, because the crinkle at the corners and the adoration are the same. The world goes dark in a gradient that starts with blue, and James can feel the weight on his chest and welcomes it for the peace it offers.

He wakes with the taste of salt on his tongue and the sky expansive above him, just the same shade of blue as those fucking eyes.

***

Thomas Hamilton at twenty, if you asked John Silver, is not all that different from Thomas Hamilton at ten, in that he is touch-starved, impulsive, idealistic, and reckless in the way that is going to get him killed one day, although that last has progressed from “due to his own stubbornness” to “likely at their father’s behest”.

Thomas is sitting on the stone steps of College Dorm with his coat pulled tight around his torso when John sneaks out somewhere between the bell chimes for one and two in the morning, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in Oxford?” says John, because it is the first of many things he wants to know.

“I suppose I am, yes.” says Thomas, and he stretches his hands out to pull John towards him. John dances back, out of his reach.

“Father is going to be so angry with you.” he hisses.

“Yes.” says Thomas, looking inordinately pleased with the idea. “He will be.”

“Why the fuck do you seem happy about that?”

If Thomas is surprised by John’s newly-enlarged vulgar vocabulary, he doesn’t show it.

“Because if he’s angry about me running out to you, then he won’t ask about why I actually ran out.” Thomas answers, as though this makes perfect sense. To a then fifteen year old John, it made about as much sense as the old greek poetry Thomas loved, written in a language John had yet to be taught.

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I - well, you see -” says Thomas, and it is in fact the first time that John has ever heard Thomas lost for words.

“No, I don’t see.” says John, who has been a little shit ever since Thomas introduced him to the concept and practise of sarcasm at eleven.

“I left in order that I have a good explanation for why I can’t have been where the Earl of Kent’s son and heir is about to claim I was.”

“And why would you need that? Thomas, please tell me you didn’t punch the son and heir of the Earl of Kent. There are too many people here who like Henry.”

“I - definitely did not punch him.” says Thomas and he sounds - smug?

“What did you do?” asks John, suddenly nervous about the answer.

“I - well - I -” Thomas begins, and then he stops, and swallows. “I fucked him.”

John sits down, right where he’d been formerly standing.

“Oh.” he says.

“John?” says Thomas, and now he sounds nervous.

“I - well -” says John, trying to put the thoughts rushing through his head into a coherent sentence.

“Johnny -” says Thomas again, and now it sounds like he’s pleading, and John pushes up and over his knees so that he can wrap his hands around Thomas’ waist.

“I didn’t know you were like me.” says John, tightening his grip.

Thomas clutches at John’s shirt, this time, and they stay like that until the bells ring four and John’s hair is wet where Thomas has been crying into it, and rather than part, John sneaks Thomas back into his bedroom and they wrap themselves around each other under John’s veritable mountain of blankets, with their foreheads pressed together until the House Master in charge of the boys finds them in the morning. They have a leisurely breakfast before John’s morning classes, mostly because John’s House Master is Thomas’ former House Master, and he remembers Thomas as an intelligent and endearing young man.

“A pleasure to have in class.” teases John, before dodging to the other side of the table to prevent Thomas from ruffling his hair beyond all semblance of order.

“I’ll write to you, darling brother!” Thomas calls as he departs, at last, his voice echoing against the stone, and John hides his grin with his hair and balls his fists until his knuckles turn white so that he doesn’t call back to beg Thomas to recount every detail of his conquests in those letters.

“So nice of him to visit you.” says John’s House Master. “He is a stalwart example of the best that Eton can produce. Now, off with you, Hamilton, noun declensions wait for no man.”

***

James and Silver are going to steal a warship, and they are not going to die in the process. Maybe if James says this to himself enough times, he might believe it.

James and Silver are going to steal a warship, and - and Silver is going to get them both killed for a fucking tin whistle.

James kills a man in his hammock and pulls Silver outside by the collar of his shirt, leaving rust-colored smudges on the linen with his bloodstained hands, and Silver tells him exactly what he’s stolen and why he’s stolen it, and he’s looking at James with those damnable blue eyes while being damnable clever and it’s too close to another day, in a room lined with bookshelves and art that still smelled like oils, rain on the windowpane and James the one against the wall while Thomas pressed close and purred his filthy plans into James’ ears. James lets go of the linen and presses his lips together until they hurt and moves on with the plan. Silver blows the whistle and raises the signal flag and James kills another man, adds another layer of blood to his hands, and then he’s surrounded.

James and Silver are going to not die, and maybe steal a warship in the process.

James and Silver are not going to die.

Silver is a backstabbing, thieving bastard, and James is, in fact, going to die.

Silver is a man of hidden depths and loyalty, and is simultaneously the smartest and the least intelligent man that James has ever had the misfortune of working with.

“Well, what the fuck did you think was going to happen?” James yells, and Silver shoots. The rest of the day passes in a blur of things that James has to plan for, and then they are alive and will stay that way thanks to two votes, and Silver is looking at James while James looks out at the sea, and Silver sees through every veil James has hung between himself and the world, and he looks up at James through his lashes.

“I think you need me to do it.” he says. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

“Strange pairs, Lieutenant.” James hears. “They can accomplish the most extraordinary things.”

***

At three-and-twenty, pockets lined with scammed coin, John Hamilton, known to the aristocracy as That Seductive Bastard, puts his feet up on the empty chair residing opposite his to prevent yet another young noble looking for an exciting piece of rough to lord it over for a night from taking it.

“I’m waiting for someone.” he says, firmly.

“I can guarantee he’s not anywhere as good as me.” says the lordling, and John rolls his eyes so hard they might roll right out of his head.

“That’s a far cry from what you said while I was studying here.”

The lordling spins with a look of horror on his face and John tips his head back and starts to laugh.

“Dear Christ, Johnny, don’t do that.” says Lord Thomas Hamilton, known to the aristocracy as The Madman of Whitehall. “I’ll be beating them off with a stick all night, and that will be quite the disruption to our conversation.”

“I don’t know.” says John, contemplative. “It would be a lovely view. And I’ve always had a soft spot for you playing the White Knight for your little brother.”

Thomas grins and opens his arms, and John walks right into them. John never hit the growth spurt Thomas did, and so his face ends up pressed against Thomas’ chest, but it’s such a pleasant feeling that he can’t bring himself to care.

“I have so much to tell you!” Thomas says.

“Whose son have you despoiled this week?” asks John, returning to his seat. Thomas flings himself down in the other with the greatest possible flair.

“His father was a carpenter in the Navy.” says Thomas.

“You’re fucking your liaison.” John says, voice flat.

“Yes, I’m fucking the liaison.” says Thomas.

“It’s about fucking time!” says John, slapping his hand on the table for emphasis. “If I had to hear you compare his freckles to constellations or his hair to fire or silk threads one more time I was going to take a pleasant stroll on the bed of the fucking Thames.”

Thomas goes a very pretty shade of pink.

“Was I as obvious as all that?” he asks, and John laughs and pushes the drink he’d bought for Thomas towards him.

“Yes, brother mine.” says John. “Am I to assume that this means you are renouncing all others?”

Thomas shoots him a glare.

“Oh.” says John, suddenly taken aback. “Oh, you are genuinely serious about this. You - you love him?”

Thomas goes even pinker.

“You did something gloriously dramatic, didn’t you.” says John.

Thomas tells him about the book and the meaning of it and the inscription, and John lets his forehead fall to the sticky wood of the table.

“My truest love - you romantic shit.” he tells Thomas, and Thomas reddens more. “You utterly absurd romantic shit.”

“It is the truth!” says Thomas, and John beams as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“I am so very happy for you, brother mine.” says John, and Thomas smiles.

Thomas is incandescent when he’s happy, and John has never seen him this bright.

“He’s - he’s something else, Johnny.” says Thomas. “I can’t wait for you to meet him.”

Now, that’s new. Thomas has never wanted to introduce any of his flings to John - he never wanted anyone to know the truth about John’s parentage, to challenge the accepted truth that John was a Hamilton ward. It was a dangerous secret to know, Alfred Hamilton’s indiscretion.

“You want me to meet him- you just told me sailed for the Bahamas, Thomas.”

“When he returns, little brother. I would like to have you for dinner, so that you might meet him.”

John finds himself smiling to match Thomas.

“Alright, then. I would like to meet your James.”

“My James.” says Thomas, his eyes wide with wonder. “Isn’t it just marvellous?”

***

The liars of yore who earned the epithet of Silvertongue must all be gathering in spirit to confer their collective titles onto John Silver, who stands in the middle of a room of men who shouldn’t give a single, solitary fuck about what James wants and makes them want it more than they want air in their lungs or food in their bellies or a beat in their hearts. John Silver makes the promise of free land under your boots and a back unbowed sound like the promise of a return to Eden, and the men eat from his hand as he does it.

James Flint knows the danger of men with power - he has been their victim and their pawn - and he is more afraid of the power in Silver’s tongue than he ever was of Alfred Hamilton and his ilk.

John Silver weaves webs out of words and traps you in them in such a way that trying to unravel them only leaves you more tangled. James listens to Miranda and then argues with Miranda, and then declares he never should have listened to Miranda, and then listens to Miranda, and Abigail Ashe looks horrified when he enters the tavern, right up until he puts down his sword and introduces himself. Until he says his name is McGraw. They sail to Charlestown with Abigail and she spends her days writing while Miranda reads, and the journey is uneventful, save for the fraying of the mainmast footrope and the rigger they lose to the afterlife and the sea as a result. Silver seems somewhat distracted by the man’s death, but James has bigger concerns than the contentment of his liar, and so he thinks nothing of it.

With a day to go before they arrive in Charlestown, he joins Miranda on her evening turn about the deck.

“I think you should go alone to see Peter.” he says. “I am worried that even with Abigail’s safe return, I will be hung for what I have done as Flint, regardless of who I once was.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” says Miranda. “Peter will recognize us. We are not that far removed from who we once were.”

“I fear that I am.” says James.

“Peter always liked you.” says Miranda, resting a placating hand on James’ arm.

“Peter always liked Thomas.” says James, perhaps more sharply than he needs to.

“And we will be doing this in Thomas’ name.” says Miranda.

“Thomas would not want me to risk your life.” says James.

“We have something to fight for.” says Miranda.

“Believe me, I know that.” James snaps.

“And you are a good man, fighting for a good cause.” says Miranda.

“I am rather afraid you seem to have confused me with your husband!” yells James. “And I am not your husband!”

Someone behind them gasps, and James realizes that their conversation has been held at a louder volume than he had first thought.

“I know you’re not my husband,” yells Miranda, who seems not to have noticed the gasp, “because my husband is dead and you are not.”

It hurts - that comment hurts just the same as it would had Miranda cut James open with a sword like Singleton once had.

“And who’s fault is that?” James roars back, darkness and guilt and long repressed anger guiding his tongue. “Who said we had to leave him behind?”

“We would have died!” yells Miranda.

“And Peter might still kill me - kill you - kill us both!” James yells.

“Miranda?”

Both James and Miranda fall silent, turning to look at the speaker. Not a man on this ship knows Miranda’s first name - she has only ever been Mrs Barlow - and yet there, at the railing, clutching the ropes with a white-knuckled grip, stands John Silver, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Miranda?” he asks again.

James is across the deck and in Silver’s face before he’s aware what his feet are doing.

“How the fuck do you know her name?” he demands.

Silver reaches out, rests a hand on James’ shoulder, moving slow all the while like he’s trapped in molasses.

“James.” he breathes. The whole ship is silent, watching them. “You are his James.”

There’s a wonder in Silver’s face that James has never seen before.

“His James.” says Silver again, voice faint, eyes unfocused, like he’s in some kind of trance. The hand on James’ shoulder moves to cup his face.

Silver’s eyes are as unreadable and dark as the sea. Thomas’ used to look like that on the days when lightning arced over London.

And just like that, James understands.

***

John only ever used the servants’ entrance to the King Street house, entirely from force of habit. The night that he was to meet Thomas’ James was no different. The city was grey and wet from the persistent drizzle that had been coming and going all day, and John was done up in the best finery he had brought to Oxford with him, rumpled but still presentable after the long journey. Brighid the kitchen maid met him with a delighted squeal and a tight hug.

“Master John!” she cries. “Master John, it is so good to see you!”

“You’ve lost weight.” says Martha the cook, who used to slip John extra cookies in the afternoons. “What are they feeding you at that university?”

The servants know. The servants have always known. They know that John is more than a ward, that his mother’s name was Da Silva and his father wasn’t a dead sailor but alive and, on occasion, under the same roof as them. The servants know John is one of theirs.

“They feed me well, Martha.” says John, smiling, “but not as well as you. Thomas says you have something special for us tonight?”

“Of course!” says Martha. “The Lieutenant’s home today, isn’t he?”

“You like him, then - Thomas’ James?”

Brighid giggles.

“He’s very handsome.” she tells John, and then she leans in conspiratorially. “And he’s very - obedient.”

John sniggers too, at that, and then yelps when Martha whacks the back of his hand with the wooden spoon she’d been carrying.

“No gossiping in this kitchen.” she says, voice stern.

“Come on, Martha, you must have an opinion on tha man.” John cajoles.

“Well,” says Martha, leaning in, eyes dancing, “I overheard -”

The doors at the back of the kitchen bang open with some force, and two men John vaguely recognizes as being in his father’s employ march into the kitchen, dragging someone with them.

Someone tall, and blond.

“THOMAS!” yells John, scrambling over the table to get between the men holding his brother and the door. Brighid screams, and Martha gasps out something that might be ‘Lady Hamilton’ and runs for the other door.

“THOMAS!” John yells again, and throws himself at the man holding Thomas’ right arm.

“John, no -” gasps Thomas, and John gets a first look at the bloody lip and swelling eye already present on his brother.

Which, naturally, is when the third man punches John in the back of the head.

He hits the floor hard, and tries to get his hands and knees under himself so that he can stand up, only for a booted foot to catch him in the ribs.

“JOHN!”

The next three kicks are also aimed at his ribs, and then someone stomps down on his hand, and he cries out in pain.

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!” yells Thomas, slightly fainter, this time.

John drags his head up enough to see the men carrying Thomas kick open the back door.

“JOHNNY!” yells Thomas, fighting wildly against the men holding him.

“THOMAS!” John yells, reaching out for him in a gesture he already knows is futile.

Someone fists a hand in his hair and slams his face into the floor, and blackness swallows him down.

***

“You knew him?” James asks.

“I loved him.” says Silver. He pauses, studies James’ face, laughs quietly. “Not like you, James. I loved him because he was my brother.”

“I knew all of my husband’s brothers.” says Miranda. “I did not know you.”

“But you never met his father’s ward, did you?” says Silver.

Miranda’s lips part in understanding.

“Johnny.” she says. “Thomas called you Johnny. You were at Oxford - he said you’d be a fantastic help to our cause as soon as you graduated.”

Silver’s smile only tugs up one corner of his lips, and doesn’t reach his eyes.

“I never did manage that. Graduating. Turns out, once you’ve institutionalized your heir, you realize you can just tell your bastard to go fuck himself and withdraw his funding.”

James can’t get enough air into his lungs.

“But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, Lady Hamilton?” asks John, nonchalant. “You wouldn’t know the first thing about what happened to the rest of us, because you took a good man, a noble man, a man of righteousness, if you were to listen to Martha and Brighid and Matthew and Luke in the stables, and you made him leave. You made him abandon my brother.”

Miranda shakes her head.

“And you!” says John, whirling on James, stabbing a finger into his chest. “You let her!”

“Silver-” says James, and his tongue feels heavy as he says it, to the point where he doesn’t know if he said it at all. “John -”

“You let her convince you to leave him! He told me about that book, you know - told me all about it, what it said, what it meant.”

James flinches.

“He loved you, and you abandoned him!” John yells, tears pricking his eyes.

The crew is watching them like a tennis match, completely silent.

“John -” says James, with barely breath behind it.

“You abandoned him!” says John, and jabs James in the chest again. “You abandoned him, you left him, you left him-” with each jab, John gets closer and closer to James’ chest. “You left him, you left him, you left him you left him you -”

James wraps his arms around John’s shoulders, pulls him close, holds him so that John’s face is pressed to his own shoulder.

“We couldn’t have saved him.” says James. “Miranda saved my life by making me leave. The Earl would have had me hung.”

“For what? Adultery? You heard the story they put about.”

“He knew. So did the Navy.” says James. “He knew the truth.”

John pulls back from James’ embrace just far enough to look him in the face.

“How?”

“We always thought it was one of the servants.” says Miranda, quietly.

“Not a fucking chance.” says John. “They all worshipped the ground he walked on. They were devastated. Who else knew?”

Miranda looks at James. James looks at Miranda. They both look at John, still wrapped in James’ arms.

“There is an obvious answer here, and that answer is my father.”

Everyone on the deck turns to look at Abigail Ashe, whose gaze is steady.

“That fucker.” says John, and James finds himself growling his agreement.

***

“James.” says Peter Ashe. “Miranda.”

“Hello, Peter.” says James. He knows he’s standing more like the naval officer he used to be than the pirate captain he has become, but it’s hard not to, now that he’s got a Hamilton Lord to protect once more. “There’s someone you ought to meet.”

“Oh?” says Peter, the picture of unimpressed politesse.

“You remember Alfred Hamilton’s ward, John?” says Miranda, fake smile firmly in place. James steps aside, steps to the asshole guard who’d met them at the dock, the only armed man in the room, and drives the knife he’d stashed in his coat sleeve between his ribs to his heart, and John Silver raises the pistol in his hand.

“You got my brother killed, you son of a bitch.” John snarls, and Peter raises his hands and backs towards the wall, terrified.

“He’s alive, please, James, Miranda, please, he’s alive. The letters are in my desk, he’s in Savannah - please, I didn’t mean -”

John stays where he is, aim unwavering, until Abigail returns with the papers.

“They seem to be in order.” she says. “If Mister Silver’s brother is alive, will you go fetch him, Mister McGraw?”

“We definitely will, Miss Ashe.” says James.

“We can’t leave my brother there, Abigail.” says John. “The Captain would die of want for his true love.”

Miranda buries a smile under her hand, and Peter continues to shake with fear.

“We’d best be off, John.” says James. “The wind we sailed in on could take us to Savannah.”

John raises an eyebrow at Peter, who flinches further back into the corner he’d backed himself into.

“Don’t play with your food, Johnny.” says James, stepping up so that he’s pressed against John’s back. “Didn’t they teach you manners at Eton and Oxford?”

“Where’s the fun in that?” John purrs back.

“Please.” says Peter, and it’s almost a sob.

“Shall we do it together, then?” asks John, before cocking his head. “Miranda, would you like to help?”

Miranda has drawn the sword from the dead guard’s belt.

“This seems like a better weapon for all three of us.” she says.

John and James’ fingers interlock when they grasp the hilt with her.

#Black Sails #Flinthamilton #Silverflint #my fic

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imagine-otome-games · 7 years

Note

Hello! l Love your blog! I was wondering if I could get a headcanon on the incubaes reacting to Mika dying her hair a crazy color? (Like blue or lavender or smth, you pick) I kind of did something similar myself, so I was curious to see if you could do that. Thank you for your time!

My hair is actually a gradient from bright blue at the top to teal green at the ends!

James: Admittedly, he was more a fan of traditional hair colors, but James couldn’t deny how pretty you looked with your unique style. He asks if you plan to change the color once your current one fades, not really wanting any surprises in the nearby future.

Erik: Stunning, gorgeous, beautiful; there weren’t enough words for Erik to describe the choice you had made for your newest style. Of course, he had been pretty shocked to see it at first, but was quick to get over the change and accept your new hairstyle.

Sam: Making a comment about finding a box of bad wigs, Sam wouldn’t realize at first that your new, crazy hair color was what you’d gone to the salon to do. When he does realize, he’s at a loss for words. Yes, it did look quite amazing on you, but now you stuck out like a sore thumb in a crowd.

Matthew: Do you think he would look good with pink hair? Because after seeing how amazing you look with wildly dyed hair, Matthew has the urge to do something to his own. Of course, he has the gift of magic and a glamor spell on his side, so maybe he can do a few trial tests before committing to something.

Damien: Though he says he thinks you look beautiful no matter what color your hair is, you find that Damien has been playing with the oddly colored strands a lot more than he usually did. He can’t seem to keep his hands off your hair, loving to simply feel it between his fingers and watch the colors flow.

#seduce me #james incubus #erik incubus #sam incubus #matthew incubus #damien incubus

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imagine-this-overwatch-blog · 7 years

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If you want to provide more details on songbird I'd love to draw her

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Okey!!

She’s 5′3″ and a little on the scrawny side, but she’s got pretty beefy thighs. She also has an average C-Cup bust.

She has white skin and blue eyes, and her hair is styled in an asymmetrical a-cut like this lovely lady here. Her hair is also dyed! It’s an ombre gradient that starts at red and goes to yellow, like this.

Her clothes typically consist of torn up jeans, old shoes, graphic tees and she sports sleeveless jackets-- complete with hood! Maybe even fingerless gloves to complete that punkish look she’s got going...

But she’s not even punk at all, she is an absolute sweetheart. Imagine Snow White singing a lovely tune and all the woodland creatures come to her. That’s my girl Songbird.

This is a first draft idea so this may be subject to change in the future, but if you wanna give it a shot I’d love to see your art. u3u

#mun text #I haven't even drawn her myself yet #thats how new she is lmao #Anonymous ;#asks

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zslwigs-blog · 4 years

Text

How to Make a Wig Look Natural and Put on a Wig Look Real

We LOVE wearing both synthetic and natural human hair wigs. But if we're honest, we would rather not have the whole world know when we're wearing a wig. A wig can instantly change one's appearance and offers a great deal of flexibility when it comes to hairstyle, color, and length. Many women who care about their beauty live without real human wigs today. Maybe you decided on long silky black hair that shines in the sunlight or instead picked spunky short hair with a bit of a curl. Perhaps you chose wavy blond locks that you can braid or went for the long bangs to contour your face. Just like with your natural hair, you can have a professional stylist trim your wig to create a look that best compliments your face shape. This will make the style appear more natural. For the best results, have your stylist trim the wig while you are wearing it.

Do you know the proper way to put on a wig? Whether you have long hair or short hair, we'll show you some tips and tricks to keep your wig securely in place. If you are new to wigs, this breezy tutorial will be a big help!

You could put a microscope up to the best wigs in Hollywood and still not be able to detect whether they're growing from the scalp or not — they're that good. That seamlessness is what most people desire when picking out a wig. Unless that is, you're going for a theatric, avant-garde style or costume.

But if you're wearing a wig as a daily protective style, you want your wig to look as natural as possible. But most people don't have a celebrity stylist on call to create a flawless fit. So, aside from slipping a lace front over your natural hair — where the heck do you even begin?

Things You'll Need

Flesh-colored wig cap

Human hair wig

Scissors

Scalp protector

Wig adhesive

Small adhesive brush

How to put on a wig step by step?

Step 1:Preparation

Wash your scalp with soap and water to ensure the application area is oil-free. Spray scalp protector directly on your head to act as a barrier between your skin and the adhesive.

Apply adhesive with the brush to areas onto which the wig will attach. Using the cool air setting, blow-dry the adhesive for about 30 seconds.

Place the front part of the wig on your forehead and press firmly with both hands for at least 60 seconds. Attach the sides to the matching areas on your scalp and press firmly again for another minute.

Step 2:Trim the lace on the full lace wig

Trim the lace on the full lace wig. This only needs to be done the first time you use your wig, and it does not need to be done if the lace has already been trimmed by the manufacturer. To trim the lace, put the wig on your head. Use hair clips to fasten the wig hair back away from your scalp line.

Trim any lace that sticks out past the wig hairline using a pair of sharp scissors. Cut small amounts of lace at a time to avoid accidentally cutting too much. Be careful not to cut any of the wig hair. Leave a little bit of lace sticking out past the wig hairline, but no more than 1 inch.

Step 3:Protect your skin

Clean the skin by your hairline with a cotton ball dampened with isopropyl alcohol to remove body oils that could prevent the wig adhesive from sticking properly.

Meanwhile, Apply scalp protector to the skin by your hairline. This only is necessary if you have sensitive skin.

Step 4:Apply Adhesive

With your fingers, apply your favorite edge control product or gel to lay down your edges to perfection.

If using adhesive glue, apply a thin layer to the entire hairline using a small makeup brush or cosmetic stick. If using a soft bond adhesive, don't apply the wig immediately. Wait until the glue has become tacky. If using a hard bond adhesive, the wig can be applied immediately, as this type of glue bonds immediately.

Step 5:Attach the Wig

Line the wig part up as desired and use the wig combs to secure it onto your hair. Make sure not to pull too tight!

Those attaching a wig with glue should start by attaching the wig at the hairline in the front middle of the forehead. Gently press the edge of the wig down against the glued skin, working around the hairline until it is attached around the entire hairline.

Step 6:Style your wig

Pull the wig down and adjust as necessary. Flat ironing can help smooth down the top to mimic your hair. Press down on the edges of the wig for five seconds to make the adhesive stick to your skin. Style the wig as desired.

Position the lace frontal wig on your head. The easiest way to find the front-center of the wig is to part the hair on the wig. Parting the hair will reveal the hairline. The middle of the wig hairline should line up with the middle of your forehead at your hairline.

Here are our cosmetologist's top tips for making your wig look like natural hair.

1.Replace Your Wig Regularly

The best way to broadcast to the world that you're wearing a wig is to wear an old smelly wig.

Unfortunately, no one has invented a wig that grows new hair yet, so we're stuck with wigs that lose their quality over time.No matter how hard you wish, no amount of wig styling products or cap adjustments can save a wig that's past its prime.

Plan to replace your synthetic wigs every 3 to 6 months and replace your human hair wigs every 6 to 12 months.

2.Two Words: Rooted.Colors.

Unless you naturally have very dark hair, it's unlikely that your hair is just one color.

Most people have shades of color and gradients throughout their hair.

Your stylist calls those gradients “dimension.” We call them “the reason wigs dyed with one flat color look really fake.”

Wigs with rooted colors, on the other hand, mimic the natural gradients in bio hair by blending several colors.

Can't find a wig that you like with rooted colors? Look for a wig that is a ‘blend' of two colors or ask a stylist to give your wig highlights and lowlights two shades away from the wig's base color.

3. Look for Lace Fronts and Monofilament Tops

Keira Knightley wore wigs onset and at red carpet events for years, and no one knew she was wearing them until she spoke publicly about her issues with hair loss.

How did she keep everyone in the dark about her hair?

With lace fronts and monofilament tops.

Lace front wigs create the illusion of a natural hairline, making it look like your wig hair is growing right out of your head.

Monofilament tops do the same thing, but for the wig's part. Each hair of a monofilament top wig is individually sewn into the wig, rather than being machine applied. This allows the wig hair to move freely and lets you to part the wig anywhere you want.

4.Mess Up The Part

When something looks too perfect, especially with wigs. It's usually a sign that that thing is fake. Apparently, big companies haven't learned this yet.

Most wigs come out of the box with eerily perfect parts that scream, "This isn't my natural hair!" when you wear them.

As soon as your new wig arrives, take a pair of tweezers and carefully pluck out a few strands. Then, using baby scissors, cut a few strands so that they look like they're just growing out. Last, choose a couple of hairs to place on the 'wrong' side of the part. Imperfection never looked so perfect.

5.Trim Your Wig

Typically, we aren't completely happy with a new haircut until our hair has had the time to grow out a bit. To mimic that natural, grown outlook, take your wig to a stylist and ask her to use a razor to cut in some layers or jagged edges.

6.Blend it Out

Lace front wigs are great at mimicking a natural hairline, but they'll never beat the real thing. If you're lucky enough to have some natural hair, try ‘blending' your natural hairline with the hairline of a lace front wig.

Ensuring that your wig is properly cared for will help to extend the life of your wig and keep it looking natural and healthy-looking for as long as possible.

A wig that is not properly cared for can become frayed, frizzy and damaged, leading to an unnatural appearance. Only use shampoo, conditioner and styling products made specifically for synthetic wigs, and only use combs and brushes created for wigs.

Wear Accessories as You Would in Your Own Hair

Adding a bright scarf or headband to your wig can help it appear as if you are just accessorizing your natural hair. Strategically placing a headband or scarf around the front of the wig cap can also help to keep any of the wig caps from showing around the edges of the wig and help to keep the wig more securely in place on the head.

Now that you know some of the pros best tricks, try some or all of them. You'll be surprised what a difference they make in the styles you already own. But, it may prompt you to want to get a new style! Whether you need to wear wigs or simply want to wear them to make life easier… These tips will give you the confidence to flaunt it.

#full lace wigs #lacewigs #wigs #zslwigs

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aureus-ignis · 6 years

Text

When I was young, I fell in love with the Pokemon series. I loved the RBY and GSC games, I watched the anime on TV every weekend, bought the movies, played the TCG, and collected the PokeSpe manga zealously. But as the years went by, the newer Pokemon games failed to hold my interest, and I soon stopped following Pokemon entirely. Last year, the generation of Alola was announced, and after watching a few trailers, I found myself drawn to the music. The adorable Rowlet also caught my eye, and on top of that, it seemed like the story was going to be interesting. A conservation society full of nice people dressed in white that looked strangely sinister at times? Hell yesssss. So I decided to buy the game... and then I fell deeply in love. Once again I was in Pokemon heaven (or hell).

So when Mei asked me if there was any series we could cos together that'd be fun and simple to do, I suggested Gladion and Lillie, since their costumes are fairly simple (c o u g h). She agreed, and that was the beginning of it all.

I started working on stuff around mid-June this year. People who know me know that accuracy is pretty high on my list of priorities, and I was determined to get the not-very-logical hair of Lillie and Gladion as good as I possibly could. Lillie's problem, of course, was the thickness. She has two insanely fat braids that had to be made up of almost all the hair on a normal human head, yet somehow still has a thick wide mane of loose hair behind her. So I had to spend time wefting as many extra rows of fibre into the wig, and then crafting removable bases for the braids from batting and more wefts.

Testing!

Batting base WIP HAHAHA

And the final result was worth it <3 <3

Next was Gladion. When it comes to the subject of pulled back hair, I've gotten to the point where I can ONLY accept lacefront. Anything else is too fake for me. For me, cosplay has always been about portraying the characters as if they were real, no matter how zany and strange their designs may be. I wanted the hair to look almost as though it grew on me. I ripped out almost the whole front to get rid of the fringe, and sewed in longer wefts, adjusting the direction of the hair to the left so that they would comb back naturally. Then ventilating hell began

Darkness, my old friend, we meet again. ;___; My hooking skills have improved since I first started ventilating, but it's still a long, tedious process. School started before I could finish, and I had to work on everything else too...

The realization that his uncut wig looks like Mercy from Overwatch HAHAHA

But as with Lillie, the final result was worth it <3 <3 <3

With regards to his costume, I'd actually had the hoodie and pants tailored because I ran out of time. I'd wanted just the base made so I can do the rest of the details myself, but the tailor forgot and did everything for me... and ended up messing up the accuracy. It was a disappointment, so much so that after STGCC was over, and we planned to have a shoot at the end of the year... I decided to remake everything from scratch. I'm terrible at patterning, really, and Gladion's biggest problem was THE STUPID GRAVITY DEFYING HOOD. Ultimately I couldn't get it to look exactly like the original (because I didn't want extra seams and all, but it was close enough. And the second time round, all of the holes were in the correct areas HAHAHA.

I'd made his first waistpouch myself, but for some reason, despite my careful measurements, the size turned out far too large the first time. So I had to remake the whole thing a second time. The hardest part is sewing the damn thing together, because I'd had to put two layers of hard inferfacing for each piece and sometimes the needle just wouldn't. Go. Through. OTL In version 2, I had more time, so I paid more attention to getting the shape accurate. The stupid thing tapers towards the bottom and has a curved side. Even more stupid, the strap goes from FAT TO THIN TO FAT for some reason. But I succeeded!

New VS Old

Next was the Z-ring. Gladion's official art doesn't have one, but he obviously wears one in-game. I felt that it was important, because Nanu gave it to him. So I had to dig out references from the game screenshots 8D;;

This is how a lot of my prop drafts look like. ALGEBRA IS MY FRIEND.

Also crafted the Z-crystal thanks to Pythagoras' theorem 8D; I used liquid quartz to glue the clear acrylic sheet together without leaving traces.

Final result! I'm pretty happy with it =>

Before STGCC, there was one more segment that I worked really hard on. After we'd decided to do SuMo together, I thought of making a Nebby plushie for Mei to carry. Yes, Pokemon Center had already released their Nebby plush by then, but... For one, it's smaller than life-size. For another, the shape looks more like a sunflower than a starry cloud. I didn't want it to look like Lillie was just carrying a toy; I wanted to give the impression that Mei had an adorable, soft, beautiful real-life Cosmog. But how on earth would someone with very terrible patterning skills make a 3D cloud plushie that could be dyed for Nebby's distinctive gradient colouring, and still be nice and soft to hug?

The answer is, I struggled.

Set up a spraying booth to airbrush the gradient on. Due to a problem with shipping, I couldn't get my compressor in time, so I ended up having to splurge on compressed air cans, which were horrendously expensive oTL.

BUT LOOK AT THE FINAL RESULT. LOOK AT HIM. <3 <3 <3

Let it also be known that I tested to make sure he could fit inside Mei's bag the moment I finished the base HAHAHAHAHAHAHA-----

So that was part 1 of Project Alola! We went to STGCC together and met lots of Pokemon fans (quite a lot of people were very happy to see Nebby, in particular XD), and Laki offered to come shoot with us as Moon since she already had the costume. We then planned to have our shoot at the end of the year during my holidays.

As mentioned, I'd already planned to remake my entire costume and waistpouch, but aside from that... I had the mad idea that I wanted to make a Silvally prop. It's something I'd considered for STGCC too, but I was really short on time then, and Mei told me to FINISH EVERYTHING ELSE FIRST THEN DO IT IF YOU HAVE TIME.

The problem is... Silvally's official size in the Pokedex is 2.4m. That's 80cm taller than myself. )o) Sure, I could scale him down, make a tiny lap plushie like all the other cosplayers, but what would be the point? Although I'd never cosplayed from the Pokemon series before, I'd always thought that if I were to do so, I'd want to make life-size Pokemon so that it'd look like I actually have a Pokemon partner, and not just a Pokemon toy. But I'd thought then that my projects would be starters like Pikachu or Charmander or Cyndaquil, or maybe one of the Eeveelutions. Not a giant horse-dog like Silvally ^^;;;

I had to consider the fact that my house isn't very big and I'd have barely any space to keep him. I had to consider how I'd be able to transport him, and how to construct him so that I could take him apart. I also had to consider the amount of money I'd be spending on him, because honestly, cosplay is not a cheap hobby. Materials in Singapore are especially expensive. As an unemployed student, I'd be splurging a lot if I decided to go ahead with this crazy project. When I told this to Mei during one of our dinners out, she suggested just making his head and taking halfbody shots so no one can tell that he has nobody. Like a hobby horse, except it's a hobby Silvally.

Good idea.

So when school finished, I started drafting him out, and the basic paper draft itself took like three giant sheets of patterning paper taped together HAHAHA.

The base

Honestly, even though I had an idea of how I'd make him, I wasn't completely sure if it would work. As I've said repeatedly I really, really suck at patterning. I can never seem to envision where to cut darts in a piece of EVA foam to get the shape I want, so half the time I was just taping drafting paper on and folding and taping excess parts off, then that that up for a trial-and-error pattern.

With paper mache and paper draft pattern for the mouth.

That's how large the whole thing is 8D'

Apart from the making of Silvally, I'd also spent time searching for reference pictures and sketching storyboard ideas for our shoot. I went to check out the our shoot location (Sentosa Island) a few weekends back, so that we could decide where exactly we wanted to shoot. In hindsight, there were a lot more shots I could have planned to bring out the personality of our characters more, but oh well ;w;

The shoot itself went pretty well, for the sun was quite kind to us, and hid under clouds for most of the day. Sei's working style is quite different from mine, but she was very gracious and did everything I asked of her. Sakami and Greg were wonderful helpers, and some of my best memories from the day include our hilarious videos, and the shenanigans with the Pokemon.

I've already thanked my wonderful team mates, helpers and photographer in another post, so I won't go into details here. But everyone was very kind and obliging, and listened to all my ambitious plans, allowing me to be a bossy director. I'm very, very grateful to all of them.

So now, a bit of reflection on Silvally, and the whole project.

The patterns for Silvally weren't perfect, and I messed up a lot. The final result was definitely far from what I had hoped for. Most noticeably, the top of the head is bumpy holey because I ran out of gesso to fill and sand. But the proportions also came out a bit off, and the neck piece patterning failed on the right side. But when I finished painting... I felt very, very happy. I'd gotten some small bouts of joy when I finished each stage of the crafting process, when I looked at what I'd done, but looking at the final product was just.... incredible. It wasn't as beautiful as it could have been, and I still regret all the imperfections that are so obvious to my eyes, but....I was so excited. I couldn't wait for the shoot.

Perhaps it was partly because I hadn't really been sure if I'd be able to make things work, so the success tastes that much sweeter. Some of my friends had told me I was crazy. I kept asking myself if I were crazy. All that money and time and pain sunk into a project that I'm not even getting paid for, with a success rate that seemed really low. My mom telling me straight out that I was 'too ambitious'. Was it worth it? Would it have been better to make a smaller, much more perfect prop, than an actual sized, flawed one, with half the effort and money? Cosplay is already an indulgence, but had I crossed the line into foolish waste zone?

When I looked at my completed Silvally, the answer didn't hit me like Mjolnir. I still don't know if it was the right thing to do, or if I was an irresponsible child wasting the money that could have gone into feeding me better food.

But it made me happy. So happy. I nearly cried as I stood there for a few minutes staring at him. He was truly a labour of love. I spent hours spraying gesso and paint because I love Silvally. I spent days sanding until my arms want to fall off and my eyes are dying from dust because I love Gladion. I spent hours cortorted in weird positions with a paintbrush trying desperately to stay within the pencil lines, sweat dripping into my eyes, because I love this art. Sure, the process itself was often painful; I suffered multiple burns from hot glue and a hot iron and cut my fingers open way too many times. I still hate hand-sanding with a burning passion because it's tiring as hell and I get blisters on my oversensitive skin. But the thought that all of the suffering helps to build the final piece of art that I envision makes me grit my teeth and soldier on.

Cosplay is my art, something that I would put 500% of me into. Whether the crafting of insanely large props, or the preparations for the shoot, or the styling of my entire team's wigs, or the endless sewing adventures on plushies.

Because I love it.

#pokemon #my journals

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