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#plastic man aesthetic
zentanyl · 4 months
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are you thirsty...? you don't like water...? meth?! elriel 2133
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bitchfitch · 1 year
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first 9x9 solve, it took forever but Hey! i did it :]
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5mind · 1 year
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hold up hold up hold up was just playinh the new barbie movie trailer over and over again for like 20 minutes
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murdrdocs · 11 months
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What kind of girl would Hobie be into? Emo? Shy? Feminine? Punk? What about personality type?
i fully believe that hobie is just into people. that’s it.
personality doesn’t matter, aesthetic doesn’t matter. but what does matter is their beliefs. he cannot be with someone completely out of touch with reality (elitist, hoards money, etc) or someone that’s willingly ignorant to society around them. but other than that he doesn’t have many preferences.
maybe (maybe) he’ll say he won’t get with “a prissy girl” again, but then he meets this girl dressed in pink who’s so sweet and has just a little bite behind her that hobie is dying to have directed towards him and suddenly he’s swinging to the window next to hers, ditching his suit, and pretending to have just climbed up 8 stories.
he loves when someone matches his energy, even if it’s more of a joke rather than a reflection of their actual beliefs. like the time a car wreck happened in front of him, not big enough to cause spider-man to come out and help, and the two drivers suddenly started arguing about who was in the right and who wasn’t. he was immediately making a connection to a societal issue, something along the lines of “if the recession hadn’t happened, we would’nt’ve been here” and there’s someone next to him, sipping an iced beverage out of a plastic cup, nodding along. “what i’ve been saying the whole time” and hobie has just one (1) look and he’s gone.
his mates say he falls easily, he doesn’t believe them until some studious bloke comes into the pub they’re at, stumbles over their order, gives a shy look into hobies direction, and then hobie considers that maybe they’re right.
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tiyoin · 2 months
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pt 1 | 📍pt 2 | pt 3
“floyd you fucking dick” was all you said when you entered his house. a plastic bag in hand as you looped the car keys around your neck.
the house, bigger than jade’s didn’t have the same aesthetic. instead of presten marble floors, there was black quartz with white streaks and blobs. the house almost reminded you of a deep sea palace instead of a mansion with all it’s colors, architecture, and furniture.
his furniture was all brand new, and there were different family pictures lining the grandiose staircase. mounted in the teal wall were big photos, large photos, and even larger photos.
all leading up to the statement piece of a painted family portrait. from the quick glance in jade’s house, he had one too. yet it was only of him and his wife, while floyd’s was of him, his father, his mother, and jade.
no wife.
“ne, it’s not nice to barge in shrimpy, don’t ya think?” you heard his voice echo from somewhere in the house.
rolling your eyes, your footsteps thundered through the house as you stormed upstairs. you couldn’t help but feel angry. but there were too many things to be angry about. you were angry at floyd for setting this up when he knew about jade. you were angry at his wife, which you shouldn’t be because she’s his wife, which technically makes you the other women. and more than anything, you were angry at jade. for moving on, for doing nothing, for letting her touch him like that…
you clenched and unclenched your hand, now standing in front of the golden lined portrait.
from the looks of it, this was taken years ago, when they were younger. maybe 3 years ago? you weren’t sure. but you were able to make some sharp inferences.
like the ring on jade’s finger, the bags under his eyes, the slight dishevel of his hair.he looked horrible, but to the untrained eye, he looked perfect.
calculating eyes that stared into your soul. it felt like even here he had some kind of hold on you. sly smile, the one he’d get while screwing someone over. and his sharpened jawline only seemed to make the dangerous man all the more siren like.
you lost your grip on your bag, yet that didn’t seem to matter to you as you drank up every flaw, every imperfection the leech brother had. you weren’t sure if you were greedy- after all, you were listing over a married man. yet there was some small part of you that wanted to make sure everything was still there. that he hadn’t changed.
the stray hair in his eyebrow was gone, the slight sneer in his smile was gone- his heterochromia eyes, the thing you loved about him the most- seems almost dull. not full of life and wonder like they were in highschool.
he looked… different.
you frowned.
eyes looking down to the golden plaque on the bottom of the painting. ‘Leech Family’ is what it said, below that it listed all their names.
and yet… “irene is her name”
gasping from shock, you stumbled back towards the painting and saw ja- no, floyd.
floyd was grinning like a sea-urchin as his eyes flicked over your tensed body. “hehe, i forgot how fun you were y/n”
sending his good well, you let your shoulder untighten- only a little bit, as you were in floyd leeches house. alone.
and who knew what would happen.
“what happened to shrimpy?” you fought the cracks in your voice as you cleared your throat, your turn to study him.
you couldn’t tell if he grew taller as he was usually leagues above you in the height department. his hair was still messy, but in a cool, slicked back way… and yet, he wore nothing but red plaid pj pants and an off-white shirt which you knew costed much more than the money you had in your pocket.
his smile sharpened, nothing but pure glee on his features as he stalked closer. “ehh? wasn’t it you who told me to stop calling you that?” he raised his eyebrow in faux thought. even though his finger was tapping against his chin, you could tell from his leering that he wasn’t remotely serious.
“yeah, but that was years ago. and things change”
“like jade?” he stopped once you started craning your head to see him.
“like jade…” you finished softly. unable to meet his unnerving gaze, you ran a hand through your hair, yet every time you tried pushing the strands away from your hair your fingers would get tangled. like a mess of limbs in the sheets-
“heh, shrimpy looks worse than me” his teasing voice softened a bit. although you kept your gaze down, you tried watching his shadow through the floor, tried looking for his reflection-
yet there wasn’t one from how dark, the cold marble was.
a tingle shot through your arms as you felt a large, warm hand on yours. as gently as the merman could, he worked on untangling your hair from your hand. he’d pick at your scalp, caress your locks, even encase his hands over yours.
he’d move your head in every which way as he worked. but he made sure the last view you had was of him, smiling down at you. there was a crinkle on the side of his mouth, one that came with age. yet floyd couldn’t have been past 25. and mermen were known to have fantastic skin.
gripping your wrists, you flinched, eyes looking up towards the crown of your head before returning back to his.
slowly, he lifted them up over your head, his smile never quite waivering. you knew he could sense the internal panic in your bones, the frozen response in your muscles nothing new to him you realized.
thinking about high school days while you were about to get pinned to the wall was counterproductive. gasping a little when your hands made contact with the painting, you stared holes into his exposed collar bone.
he stayed there for a second before he spread your arms. slowly, he lowered them, extended, to your sides. each movement was slow, sensual. intimate.
you shook your heads from the cobwebs.
“eh, seems like you’re in your own little world again” you looked back at his face. the same gleeful expression was still there, yet his teeth were shining through the gaps in his lips.
once he reached your hips he stopped. looking down at you trapped in his gaze.
“i’m glad you’re back y/n” he said, eyes softening just a bit. you could tell he meant it, as someone like floyd was too genuine to lie. too bored to keep up with charades to trick you.
still, you tried budging, tried leaving his grip. yet with every struggle his smile only seemed to grow sharper and grip tighter.
unable to break free from him, you sighed. craning your neck to look at the painting behind you, you stared at him. at jade.
“not sure if i can say the same…”
i don’t think you guys understand how devious floyd is in this mini series. cause oh my god. even tho i wrote this as i came up with it, there’s definitely a few itchings of foreshadowing 😝
potential tag list? :
@hopefully-not @dmiqueles @ryuuisthecutest @kiwibirdmother
i tagged the people who seemed interested in another part. lmk if you want to be removed/ added
i also think this is trash and a quickly put together scenario but i’ll definitely add, and revamp it at a later time
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scarlett-foxxx · 2 months
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IMPORTANT BIMBO REQUEST & WARNING!!!
👇 Ok this is a long read so thought i’d give you some cute bimbo pics first 🤭
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I think (I know, great way to start for a bimbo hey? Thinking 😋 anyway…) I do think that there should be a concerted effort for bimbos to not continually be pushed by doms/dommes or hypnotists or just people in general to be these perfect bodied Barbie dolls pumped up with botox & huge lips, a bbl ass & larger than life tits & instead focus on the attitude & aesthetic that comes with being a bimbo.
I’ve been around the hypnosis & bdsm scene for a while now, and it just keeps showing up ~ the typical “bimbo” should be “this” or “that” etc & that’s just not true ~ especially these days, the bimbo is basically a girl who wants to be girly lol or bubbly & mainly loves pink. That’s it! That’s all it should be!
Yes, we like to dumb down & drop out while listening to files or just act a certain way, but more and more I see bimbos or wannabe bimbos saying that they want less focus on sucking c*ck or being subservient to a man etc & absolutely NO body modification suggestions ~ we simply want to be light & airy, bubbly & dreamy & would like hypnosis or conditioning to assist in this.
Most of us definitely don’t want to think at times & almost all of us want to be the best bimbos we possibly can be, but that SHOULD NOT entail body modifications in any way, shape or form.
1. It’s demoralizing
2. It’s based on misogynistic principles 🙅‍♀️
3. It’s dangerous! ~ many cases are being brought to light where these procedures are causing health problems later (look it up if you don’t know, trust me it’s shocking)
4. You’re fucking beautiful the way you are you gorgeous, bubbly bimbo! (Sorry for the swear but I needed you to know it 😋)
👇 ALL THESE BEAUTIFUL BIMBOS ARE FANTASTIC (I am not hating on those that get body modifications, but it’s not for everyone & it should not be pushed on us to be a bimbo the “right way” aka “keep going” attitudes etc.
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So yeah, bimbos & babes who love bimbos or hypnotists/doms/dommes PLEASE rethink the “look” & “actions” of the bimbo in your files & your attitudes towards bimbos in general! I guarantee there will be so much acceptance if your files/blog/dms etc are not based on misogyny & the typical bit titted, d*ck sucking lipped plastic doll.
Thanks in advance!
Luvya 😘
Scarlett 💕🫧✨
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chrollohearttags · 7 months
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kinktober day one
character: choso kamo
show: jujutsu kaisen
kink: pegging
word count: 1.7K
other themes + warnings: male sub, anal play, (obv) mommy kink, oral sex, strap on, spit play, choking, dom reader, overstimulation, cumshot, slapping
📝: some of my stuff I’ll be posting is inspired by videos so I’ll try to link the sauce material if I find it and this one happened to be inspired by this. Enjoy 🌚 (nsfw link btw! click with caution)
── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.───── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚.───── ・
dating choso kamo was an experience like none other you’ve had before..being with him had taught you so many things you’d never even thought to imagine. He brought forth shades of you that possibly may have never been revealed otherwise and although some may say, you two had no business being together…you could care less nor did you pay any mind to the chatter about him ‘below your standards’ or ‘not enough’. It was the furthest thing from and as far as you were concerned, he was perfect for you! The yin to your yang..a grade A stereotypical goth with his black clothing, painted nails and fishnets..along with tattoos lining his arm and his affinity for the guitar. A stark contrast to your more dainty and soft aesthetic; blazers and plaid skirts filled your wardrobe along with babydoll platforms and lighter colors. Mirroring that of every quintessential ‘pastel gf/goth bf’ meme when together..even so, the love you shared was equally reciprocated and abundant on every level. Despite your obvious differences in personality, appearance and even interests. But there was one thing you found common ground on..something that would shock anyone who knew you for your outward appearances.
“Open up, baby boy…gonna get it nice and wet for me, right?”
“Mmphm..yes..”
a pair that by all accounts, regardless of contrast..looked innocuous, sweet and so delicate. Little did anyone know that once you got behind closed doors, those masks were peeled away and the facades faded rather quickly. More so, when it came to being in the bedroom. Most would probably guess that your grungy, dark eyed stud took the reins between the sheets. Probably a more softer, sweeter dom with a gentle approach but still in charge nonetheless. However…they’d be sadly mistaken! Especially considering the fact that you were gently stroking the side of his face whilst he sucked off the silicone cock you had harnessed to your thick thighs. The two of you had just come home from a rather eventful Halloween party..drunk and dressed in rather salacious costumes. You in a sexy demon costume that left little to the imagination and Cho in his incubus get up with wings included. Truthfully, (y/n) had dreamt of seducing and dominating your man for a long time and this was the perfect excuse. Wondering just how well he’d fair when he was no longer in control. As it turned out, he loved it far more than anticipated. So much so, each time you guys got intimate, Choso insisted that you take the lead. Whatever you wanted, he was at your whim and mercy.
currently seated on all fours, he’d take subtle kitten licks at the tip before taking it a little further. Hand rested atop his head as you guided him along so carefully..akin to the many times he had done the same to you. Watching those pouty little lips of his coil around that plastic shaft and glide across all eight inches. “Look at you..so cute and pathetic. Sucking on this dick like a good boy. Are you enjoying yourself? You like pleasing mommy, don’t you?” Cooing with such a seductive tone and he loved it. If he knew what was good for him, he’d get it nice and slicked up..with his back slightly arched and hands planted into the mattress, he’d focus intensely on slurping up that fictitious dick; allowing you to fuck his mouth with as much subtly or force as you pleases. He was your bitch..your toy to mold and play with at your leisure. Behind these four walls, without judgemental eyes to pry, you made love the way you saw fit.
“Good job, baby..you took the whole thing that time. And you didn’t even gag..you’re learning.” Offering up an encouraging smile and swipe of a thumb across his pale cheek. Your thumb rested between his teeth before being replaced by your strap on yet again. You could see him discreetly attempting to cup at his own member. What he wouldn’t give to jerk himself as he worshiped your perfect physique before him; perfectly round, big tits, brown, supple skin and dark areolas with puffy nipples. Nipples he wished to flick his tongue around as you bounced him up and down on that dildo. It would be nothing short of a dream but alas, it was a mere privilege. And privileges were earned. Getting to touch you in any capacity right now was something he’d have to work hard for. However, you wanted to explore a little more of that sexy body. You wanted to see how he’d deal with being placed on all fours, waiting to be mounted as you gripped his waist and he tossed his ass back..you surely were about to find out!
“..turn around, baby boy. I think you’re ready for me now..” giving the command to face towards the scattered plushies strewn about your bed and the wall as you saddled up behind him. With a quick tug to his neatly tied pigtails, you’d snatch his head back just so you could watch his initial reaction when you slid in.
“Mmm…fuck—wanna be so full of you right now..” the uttering of that phrase alone causing your pussy to quiver. You were a leaking mess between your thighs and had those straps not been in the way, you’d be trying to get off as well but right now, it was his turn to be slutted out. “Don’t worry, my sweet love. I’m gonna take such good care of you..just relax.” Giving him a barrage of reassuring, sloppy kisses. So with that, you’d prompt him to place his hands on both asscheeks behind his back and spread them open. That puckering little entrance was practically twitching for you to get inside of him. Whereas many men would shy away from the idea of being impaled on a cock, Choso knew that the ultimate pleasure lay in that exact spot. He wasn’t ashamed of getting stuffed full to fulfill his desires. Panting like a stray pup, he’d wait patiently as you slicked it up with lube and even massaged some onto his entrance. The sheer sensation of the cooling liquid made him shudder but you were quick to massage his skin..hoping to quell that anxiety. Leaning forward, (y/n) clutched three fingers around his throat, slightly tilting his head backwards before teasing that tip around the rim of his little entrance.
“Ooh, Cho..you’re so handsome, baby boy..so fucking cute like this.”
and it was that exact declaration that had him ready to be used any way you desired. And seconds after uttering so—
“G’ahh! F-fuck!” A loud cry erupted from his mouth; gentle whimpers falling from those pouty, trembling lips as you impaled him on that toy and tugged him back towards you. “But you look even cuter getting fucked.” Coaxing a chuckle from you whilst bucking your hips forward..those long fingernails coiled throughout his wavy black locks as you used them to keep him controlled, along with a hand on the small of his back. You tried your hardest to mirror his own rhythm but soon, you found a pace of your own that worked for both of you..especially when you could hear your boyfriend whining and crying out for more. It was something so hot about watching this man writhe his hips and try to wiggle his ass to meet your thrusts. You’d lean up a little to spit onto his orifice, giving him a little extra wetness.
“Yeah? That feel good, baby? You’re doing sooo good taking mommy’s strap right now. I love it..” receiving that type of praise from you had Choso ready to burst right now but he exercised restraint and just clasped the pillows in front of him as he tried to maintain that arch. His own cock was throbbing and his prostate being stimulated beyond relief. He was a firm believer that every man should try this at least once!.. “..th—thank you..thank you so much…fucking me so good.” So desperate for a release as that pressure began to build. He looked so utterly pathetic, it was adorable. Remnants of his eyeliner staining his cheeks and those guttural groans becoming louder by the second. Clutching a hand around his throat, you’d tug him back even further and impale that toy deeper. “So gracious…just for that, jerk that dick for me, baby. C’mon, stroke that shit while I fuck this little ass. I know you wanna come so badly..” and that would be an understatement; crying out, Choso hooked a hand underneath his torso and began to rub the tip of his cock in his palms, letting that seeping precum lubricate his palm. Eventually, he’d speed up a little as it was all he could bear. But that wouldn’t last long when you’d begin to dote on him.
“It’s okay, baby boy..you can come. It’s okay to nut from getting fucked like this. As long as you feel good, that’s all that matters..nothing to be ashamed of..”
it was at that moment, he’d begun to lose control and began shaking, so close to reaching his orgasm. Legs trembling, arch breaking and his balls swollen to the brim. Once you gave him the signal and permission to let go, he didn’t hesitate and before you knew it:
“G-g..GAHHHH! Fuck!” It was as if something had shattered inside of him at that very second and his warm, juicy load began to spill all over your bed sheets. Opaque cream meshing with the pink linen..a dumbed out expression on his face and tears rolling down his cheek. You’d make haste in comforting him as you leaned forward and placed a kiss to his temple before letting your lips meet in a haze of sloppy, passionate kisses. He was so elated and in indescribable ecstasy right now. Nothing felt better than this!
“I love you…I love you so fucking much..”
“I love you more, Cho..you did so good, I’m so proud of you..”
and you’d help bring him to this climatic high anytime he wanted.
@greenieweeniesworld @spaceforher @anubisisthebomb @crazychaoticizzy @makaylasierra789 @momobaby227 @certified-stargirl @thickbihhwitdagapp @kameko-ko @valentineluvu @mukurosbracup @prettypink-princesss @bleach-your-panties
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icanseethefuture333 · 10 months
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PAC: How you see your appearance vs how other people percieve your beauty 🤍
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Please feel free to leave a tip $$$
"I see your true colors shining through. . . And that's why I love you 🌈"
Pile 1:
Shufflemancy -
Platform Shoes by Slayyyter
Splish Splash by DreamDoll ft. Cupcakke
Say Yes To Heaven by Lana Del Rey
Ace of Water, The Emperor, & Seven of Water "Illusion"
You are just tooooo cute, Pile 1 💞! Literally the embodiment of sugar, spice, and everything nice. I feel like you are a very cute and adorable person. Your appearance could be feminine and clean. I'm thinking of the pink, coquette aesthetic. I also see glossy lips, nail sets, and long eyelashes (you could wear extensions or need to go get them filled in again). You see yourself as gentle and caring. You may think you are fragile or dainty? Or resemble characters from those 2000s movies or you remind people of a novel love interest. Your style could be either soft, mcbling, or y2k, possibly a mixture of them all. You could use like childhood movies, stuffed animals, or shopping for comfort or as a coping method. There is also something unique about your appearance, perhaps you have beauty mark, freckles, a crooked tooth, round cheeks, etc. You have something that makes you stand out! Which is really cool :D! How people percieve your beauty - they think you are unreal somehow? They think you are like "Hollywood star" beauty. Even though you are not "perfect" it makes you likeable and relatable. For those who have a social media influence or popular regarding to their school, hometown, etc. Some might even wonder if you had plastic surgery done. Also for those wondering if you'd look good with plastic surgery - yes you would! I'm not seeing anything too extreme as regards to plastic surgery but for those who like the "bimbo" look they could totally rock it. Or you are able to transform yourself with makeup. People who identify as more masculine or men find you so attractive. You could be popular amongst mascfems, studs, or men who are comfortable with their masculinity. It's giving "my girl can wear whatever she wants because I know how to fight". For any men reading this 🥰 I feel like people are so in awe or you! Like you would be the prettiest man anyone has ever seen in their life. (Clarified by The Moon. Faking It by Sasha Alex Sloan). Aw you really are a sensitive person deep down, pile 1. I feel like not many get to see you when you are down or know about the late nights you stayed up crying. You may have had your heart broken before or had your heart broken by someone more than once (I'm so sorry :(!). I feel like when you have your moments of depression or feel sadness you feel really self conscious. So you could use makeup as a mask to cover to what you're feeling down. You don't have to fake a smile or portray being happy, baby. Try to practice some self care and focus on your inner beauty when you feel deep down. Spend time with a trusted friend and tell then what's been on your mind. Practicing affirmations and mirror work can also help past wounds. Take care of that precious, tenderheart of yours my little carebear 🐻!
Pile 2:
Shufflemancy -
I Am Who Am (Killin' Time) by Mac Miller ft. Niko Randa
Wake Up by Logic ft. Lucy Rose
Wife You Up by Russ
King of Fire, Adjustment, & The Sun
Pile 2, I feel that you are a natural beauty! You're not one for wearing lots of makeup or styling your hair too much. I see that you just really like to be comfortable. For how you view yourself, you could really like your facial structure :)! Your cheekbones might be defined or you have a nice jawline. On a typical day to day, your everyday style would consist of your hair pulled up into a ponytail or bun, wearing sweats, or a t shirt and jeans. You could also be a hard worker or your job requires you to have shifts early in the morning. For some of you in this pile, you could work in a café and make coffee, tea, boba, smoothies, or anything to do with drinks. People at your job love coming to you because you give great customer service. Also they see you as "girl/boy next door type". A friendly, good citizen. For how others percieve your beauty - they think your features are balanced and harmonious. Perhaps your face is quite symmetrical or your beauty feels familiar. You also have a very radiant smile or your laugh could be unexpected! You are a very bright and charming person ☀️! (Clarified by Four of Earth "Stability". Baby Girl by Chloe x Halle) I feel that you have been putting off a dream or haven't been paying attention to your inner child. pile 2. What have you done for yourself lately? You should take a break and focus on doing some fun activities to take care of your spirit. You are very generous towards others but seem to neglect your own needs sometimes! Try to go for a nice walk or be in nature, it'll do you some good! Also don't be afraid of being silly, you don't have to be so serious all the time. Perhaps doing volunteer work at a children's school or museum could let your playful side come out to play. Your inner child also wants to do some coloring or dancing. For some people in this pile, leap frog could be significant or a favorite childhood game 🐸.
Pile 3:
Shufflemancy -
Stretch You Out by Summer Walker ft. A Boogie Wit da Hoodie
Masquerade by Siouxxie Sixxsta
Test Drive by Ariana Grande
Two of Earth "Change", Nine of Water "Joy", & Nine of Earth "Gain"
This pile is very specific. I'm seeing dark hair, dark eyes, and fair to medium skintones. Your hair could be straight and black or dark brown (some of you have dyed your hair a wine red). Your eyes are almond shaped and your eyebrows are arched. If you identify as feminine, you really give off like 2014 ig baddie vibes, pile 3! Some of you could be black, Hispanic/Latin, or Southeast Asian descent. I'm reminded of those tiktoks of girls doing "chicana" makeup, so that could be how you like to do your makeup. For the fellas, you could have nice eyebrows, and a moustache that compliments your full lips. I feel very strongly that you have Scorpio, Sagittarius, or Virgo in your big 3. For how you view yourself, you don't like to stick with one look, you are always changing up your appearance 😂. I feel like when you are sticking to one thing for too long you're like "ugh I need to dye my hair" or "I need a new tattoo". You always have a different style. You like to switch it up every now and then. For how others see your beauty, they see you as very abundant! You may wear high quality jewelry (diamond earrings, gold necklace, etc.), luxury brands, and expensive shoes (some people here are sneakerheads 👟). They could admire as well that you're generous with your wealth and you could do a lot or provide for your family. (Clarified by Four of Water "Comfort". Again by P-Lo, E-40, & LaRussell). Some of you could like to party?! LMAO. In my card there is otters here and I feel that you have a group of friends that you hang out with on a daily basis. Some of you could like to go out clubbing and enjoy drinking alcohol? 😂 You usually have to be responsible in your family but with your friends you get to be the one who can be reckless instead. There's something about a car so if that doesn't resonate with you, either you or your friend take turns being designated drivers. Be careful when driving, pile 3! Have fun rolling with the homies 🚗
Pile 4:
Shufflemancy -
Unique by Miliyah
Smoke Weed Eat P*ssy by Ängie
Roof by Rico Nasty
Four of Fire "Perfection", Ace of Earth, & Four of Air of "Truce"
Pile 4, you are really confident in yourself! I'm seeing that you don't really care what other thinks about how you look and live to please yourself. Your style could be alternative, you have bangs, and your hair has layers. Perhaps you have a mullet, curtain bangs, or a feathered layers. Some of you have your hair dyed with highlights such as green, blue, blonde, etc. For your makeup, your eyeliner could have a thick wing, or you have a signature smokey eye look. You could also like to have wear faux freckles or you have actual freckles. Your lips could often be seen with black lip liner and a signature cherry red lipstick. You could have piercings, I'm seeing specifically a septum piercing, snake bites, or gauges. There could also be a tattoo on your shoulder, forearm, or back, even possibly a sleeve. There could be Aries, Taurus, or Aquarius in your big 3 as well. You could also be apart of the LGBTQ+ community. How people perceive your beauty is that you have a tough exterior but deep down you are a calm and peaceful person. Which is interesting in comparison to your appearance. Your aura is comforting and nice to be around :D! (Clarified by Six of Fire "Success". Falling for U by Peachy!, MXMTOON) This is so cute 🥺! So there is someone who secretly has a crush on you or you have some secret admirers. Possibly someone in your friend or group you interact with on a daily basis. They are super shy around you and wish they could tell you how pretty/handsome that you are ☺️. If you already know who this is and feel the same way, perhaps encourage them a bit or flirt with them so they could confess their feelings 💞 (*sniffles* I ship 🤧😍)
Pile 5:
Shufflemancy -
Use Your Heart - Interlude by SWV
Love You Down by Ready For The World
Freakend by Megan Thee Stallion
The Empress, Ace of Water, & Temperance
Okay Pile 5, I know this is tired and old but... Mommy? Yes. Mommy? Yes. I cannot 😭 Some of you could give off milf vibes and you know this. You are either mature for your age or this pile is for my ladies in their 30s and up (It's giving "Damn Ms.Parker finer than a motherf*cker, I'd knock the dust OFF that p*ssy!" 😂😂😂). This Pile is very feminine and sensual. Your body could be very curvaceous 😏 body shaped like a figure 8 fr. Your lips could be plump and kissable as well 😚. If you identify as a masculine (either pronouns, style, gender, etc). You are just a very beautiful man. You could possibly get babied by the female figures in your life lol. Perhaps you have older sisters or a lot of women in your family. You just appear as the people would say "written by a woman". You could like to wear long flowy dresses, heels, cardigans, blouses, etc. Some people here could love the 80s/90s aesthetic. I'm visualizing somebody with big fluffy curls. Also you could attract partners who are younger than you or crave someone who is maternal in their life 🥴. (Clarified by The High Priestess. So Much More by Xaiver Omär) For how people perceive your beauty, you are down to earth, and just naturally stunning. You could have a good heart as well and possibly do some sort of service for the community. You could be great with kids or love animals as well. Religion or spirituality is significant in your life. So your devotion to God or your faith in the spiritual realm is admirable. People find you wise and want to gain knowledge from your life lessons. I feel that some of you may worry people only consider you just a pretty face with a nice body but that's far from the truth. The people who do appreciate you think you are so kind and memorable to them. Also if you ever feel insecure or lonely, your spirit guides want you to know how much they love you. So if you ever need someone to comfort you in a time of need, call upon your deities, angels, etc.
Pile 6:
Shufflemancy -
Girls by Kid Cudi ft Too $hort
Single by The Neighbourhood
겨울 탓 (Winter) by SAAY ft. Woo
The Tower, Eight of Earth "Circumspection", & Ace of Air
Trigger warning
This is interesting. So Pile 6, I see that your appearance actually makes you feel stress or turmoil at times. You could be really self conscious about how you look. For some of you, you could have experienced some sort of traumatic event, or had an injury which drastically caused for you to change. For example, you could have burn scars, large bruises, etc. Some other messages coming through that your self image is warped due to experiencing some sort of abuse (either from a partner, bullying at school, etc). I am really sorry for everything you're going 🥺! I wish you healing and hope you can grow to learn to like how you look. Just know that what other people said or done to you is never your fault and just projecting their own self hatred and insecurities onto you. Now to talk about your physical traits that stand out. You have wavy light brown hair, brown to hazel eyes, and textured skin (sun spots, freckles, wrinkles, etc). For how people perceive your beauty, I see you have some supporters who find your story very motivational. People in your family know the hard work and the steps you took in order to survive and they commend you for it. This is a selective message for only of a few of you but your ancestors have been with you since the beginning of your journey. In this card there is a family of elephants, animals who are known to never forget. Your guides want you to remember the people who did you wrong but also learn to not hold grudges because it will hinder your growth. Practicing journaling, shadow work, and using prompts could help improve your self esteem and provide clarity as to why you have such negative thoughts about your appearance. Also maybe asking your loved ones what makes you beautiful could you help a boost of condience. (Clarified by Mother of Earth. Glitch by Buddy ft. Tinashe) I feel as you get older, you are going to appreciate yourself, your life, and the lessons it had for you. I'm even seeing as you age you will look even more beautiful! One day your will develop wrinkles in the corner of your eyes and see gray hairs at your roots but you will find yourself to be happy about it. Gratitude is a big thing here. The reason why it's because you have to think about not many people live a long life so the fact that you will be blessed to do that, is amazing! Also for some of you I could see that you will look into manifestation. Perhaps you will use law of attraction, subliminals, or affirmations to work on your confidence and feeling more beautiful. You will start trusting your intuition and experiencing "glitches" in the matrix. You will see life doesn't have to be so hard or always be difficult, there can be wonderful moments as well.
Pile 7:
Shufflemancy -
January 28th by J. Cole
AMERICAN GURL by Kilo Kish
EARTHA by Jamila Woods
Six of Air "Knowledge", Five of Air "Conflict, & The Hermit (reversed)
Pile 7, I feel that you are just now acknowledging how beautiful you are! Perhaps you went through a period of being a wallflower or were very shy. You are coming out of your shell and taking steps in embracing your beauty :D! Awesome! Your appearance could be very ethereal. I'm getting that you have features that stand out and you are beautiful with an eclectic style. I'm reminded of like a alien or stars in the galaxy (some of you could be interested in starseeds, sci-fi, or conspiracy theories). This message could be only for some but there was either a friend or ex partner that you had in your life that was jealous of you. They would put you down so you wouldn't feel confident in yourself (Yuck! What a hater 🙄). This caused you to feel self conscious and out of place but now you are taking back your power. You are realizing this person was just projecting their own issues onto you. If this person is still in your life, I highly advise that you cut this person off! They don't wish to see you happy or succeed. I am sure you know who this person is as well. (Clarified by The Star. Vamp by Father ft Tommy Genesis) Oh yeah this person is gonna be fucking miserable 😂. You are gonna experience a huge glow up, Pile 7! I feel like this person has been giving you the evil eye and your spirit guides are not playing that shit. They are gonna get what's coming to them for trying to dim your light and sabotage you. The energy vampire will be gone 🧛🏽‍♀️! You are going to be healing your self esteem and from the past wounds people have inflicted onto you. You get to shine bright and be the star that you are my lovely, pile 7 🌠 Congratulations!
Pile 8:
Shufflemancy -
BIBI Vengeance by BIBI
Icy by Kim Petras
Do You? By Troyboi
The Magus, The High Priestess, & Mother of Air
Pile 8, honestly you are cool as fuck 😎! You could be a model or into fashion, if not, you totally should to start pursuing something along those lines of a career because you have such a chic aura! I'm seeing that you could have sleek hair, slanted eyes, and a prominent facial structure. I'm being reminded of models like Sora Choi and Anok Yai. You could have cool toned skin and wear colors that contrast well with your undertones. You have almost like a ice queen/king presence. People could be intimidated by your presence or find you very intriguing. You could have a popular social media presence or would be eventually be big on the internet. I believe you are aware that because of your appearance it could be marketable or know your looks could attract financial wealth. For how others perceive your beauty; They consider you mysterious, smart, and strong. (Clarified by Two of Air "Equilibrium". DICTATOR by REI AMI.) I'm being reminded of Azula from The Avatar: The Last Airbender. She was raised to be a weapon by her father but was just only a teenager. She began to crack under pressure and suffered a mental breakdown in the dual with her brother Zuko and Katara. You could have a duality to yourself. On the outside, you are stoic and regal - but deep down you could be sentimental and nervous. You could be nostalgic about some things in your life and possibly worry about if you are making the right decisions. Some of you could have parents with strong expectations as well. Please don't be so hard on yourself, pile 8! It's okay to make mistakes for that is how we learn. I know it can be scary to be vulnerable but try to let others in and get to know you for the real you. You could have a avoidant attachment and often doubt others when they try to show their love for you. You don't trust many people and either stay alone or only have a few close friends that you adore. I'm seeing also that you are artistic and have a strong work ethic. For some of you, you could have anxiety, which affects your mental health. Try to pick up a hobby to help calm you down or ease those racing thoughts of yours. Being in nature, socializing with animals, or going to a art class could be helpful or significant to some of you.
Pile 9:
Shufflemancy -
Press Your Number by Taemin
Deja Vu by ATEEZ
Pretty by FAKY
Daughter of Fire, Ace of Fire, & Wheel of Fortune
Omg pile 9, you are my hotties 🥵😍!!! You know you're the shit and nobody could tell you different (period!). You really have the mindset of being the "main character" and live life to the fullest. You could have short hair, buzzcut, or part of your head is shaved while the rest of it is long (Word to Doja: "Lost a lil' weight, but I ain't never lost a tushy. Lookin' good, but now my bald head match my 🐱"). You could also have a prominent nose, plump lips, darker skin, piercings (eyebrow, nose, or lip? Possibly all 3!), and a tummy pouch (you could have a belly button piercing too). Some of you could be proud of your booty or like to twerk, don't matter the size 😂. You wear bangles, crystals, waistbeads, and gold hoops. As for your style you dress like it's summer all the time. You could wear tube tops, crop tops, denim shorts/capris, baggy jeans, flip flops, and sneakers. You could get compliments a lot and be told that your style is "fresh". For how people perceive your beauty, they think you are lucky, blessed, and a joy to be around! I'm getting a vision of someone rub their hands 👏🏽. So people want to rub off some of your luck. NSFW but some people want to feel up on you 😂. They think your skin looks radiant and soft or want to touch your curves/muscles. (Clarified by The Sun. Going Off by P-Lo) Idk why I'm hearing "Step outside hoe. Step outside!" 🤣 You are enjoying your freedom and letting loose. You could be the type of person people always see on social media traveling places or partying. If any of you still live with your parents, y'all are stressing your mfin' parents tf OUT 😭💀! You could have to sneak out or lie about where you're going with a cover up outfit just to go places. You get away with a lot though because of how much they love you 😮‍💨 I'm getting some of you could be the youngest child. Your family think you can be a knucklehead but they love your energy and you make them laugh and smile during the hard times. Also this could be a message for a select few but some of y'all need to stop getting into fights or arguments 😭! Please learn to pick and choose your battles lol. Make sure to handle your substances responsibly (Mary Jane by Rick James came on so if you guys like to smoke weed or drink alcohol, be careful of your surroundings 😅!).
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star-anise · 2 years
Note
You just posted like ten different things about potatoes in the span of maybe five minutes, and I gotta know your take on "The Martian".
Like, the (fictional) man alone on a planet literally only survives because of potatoes shrink-wrapped in plastic for a Thanksgiving meal. If they weren't slated to be on Mars for Thanksgiving, he would have died.
And Andy Weir (author of the original novel) did such a good job with the science of every other element to the story, I honest-to-god believe that potatoes could actually manage to grow in Martian soil (even if that's not been proven for certain afaik).
Which means..... could potatoes terraform Mars into sustaining life??? Are potatoes the key to the universe???
Haha sorry for going so hard on them! Those were mostly all posts from 2020 when gardening and fantasy worldbuilding were lockdown fixations for me. One of them blew up recently so I wanted to give The People more of the content it seemed they were looking for. I don't actually know a lot about potatoes. I just think they're neat.
I do not want to take apart the concept of "colonizing Mars" as some kind of woke gotcha. I want to take your question seriously and charitably. However, I just am the kind of person who's like "Hmm, 'colonize', we should really stop and unpack that word," so let's do that, without forgetting the potato element.
(What "I don't know a lot" means: Potatoes were a crop my family grew several acres of for a few years on our farm before we switched our focus to sheep. I am about 50% as reliable as a horticultural brochure on various potato diseases and growing condition issues. I have listened to two University lectures and read perhaps four historical journal articles beginning-to-end on how the Columbian Exchange affected early-modern Europe, that and half as much again on medieval and early modern European farming practices and population changes, and perhaps three science/history articles specifically on the domestication and proliferation of the potato. I am a white Canadian who actively seeks out information and training in Indigenous history and culture in the Americas, but that's probably still only equal to like, two Native Studies classes in university. I know more than the average person on this topic, but I am also not an expert compared to people who have devoted serious time to learning about this.)
But I have some intuitions in a couple of ways:
The Martian is probably being wildly over-optimistic about its potatoes. They would probably have been irradiated into sterility before being vacuum-packed, and I don't think you can split and propagate them that quickly or successfully. However, potatoes can definitely grow in all kinds of conditions (including under my sink).
They might not be the world's healthiest or happiest potatoes, tho. Soil quality definitely affects the end product. Presumably Watney, being a botanist studying Mars' soil composition, knew how much he had to ameliorate his soil with latrine compost (which would definitely have needed a LOT of processing, since human waste is generally not good for plants, but maybe he used chemicals to speed that up?) to get good soil. However, we would probably need to add a LOT of shit to Mars' soil (and air, and water) for it to host plant life.
Mark Watney makes a joke about having "colonized Mars" because "colony" is Latin for "farm" and he farmed on Mars so haha, funny joke! And we talk about colonies on Mars partly because that's what science fiction did, and a lot of science fiction has been into that colonialism aesthetic. But colonialism and empires actually aren't great, not just because they necessitate huge amounts of racism, oppression, and genocide—I know, you asked me a fun question about potatoes and did not sign up for this, I'm not here to drag you, hear me out—but because they're also really sucky models for agriculture and successful societies generally.
My British ancestors tried to be colonial farmers in a place that is sometimes colder than Mars (Canada's Treaty Six), and let me tell you: IT SUCKED. Most of the crops and herbs and vegetables and flowers that settlers here brought from home and are used to? DON'T FUCKEM GROW. For the Canadian prairies to become conventional farmland, farmers and scientists had to scramble to find, or produce, cold-hardy varieties of everything from wheat to roses. A lot of flowers and plants that are unkillable invasive zombie perennials in other climates don't survive our winters no matter hard we try. The trees and flowers that hold cultural or sentimental attachments for us often don't grow here. The climate is so harsh and population is spread so thin that we cannot do the 100 mile diet and eat foods we're familiar with, and can hardly even manage the 1000 mile diet. (Not that I try, but, my family did once look into it)
A huge number of colonial homesteads, where the pioneers go out on their little covered wagon and build little houses on the prairie? Failed miserably and got bought up by land speculators. My own family came out to Alberta in the 1880s and moved around from land assignment to land assignment, like, six times before settling at their current place in the early 1900s.
Meanwhile: POTATOES
Potatoes are less than ten thousand years old! I am not any kind of expert on archaeology, please nobody throw things, but humans showed up in the Andes (think: high, cold mountains) of South America roughly 9,000 years ago. There are hundreds of wild potato varieties, but they generally produce fairly tiny tubers. It took active work of Indigenous Andean people around 8,000 years ago around Lake Titicaca to cultivate specific strains of potato, doing oldschool genetic modification to make them bigger, more delicious, and hardier. From that cultivation effort around a single species of wild potatoes, they produced thousands of cultivated potato varieties.
Ancient Andean farmers and botanists also played a big part in cultivating quinoa from wild amaranth, as well as producing modern food crops you probably haven't heard of, like oca, olluco, mashua, and yacon, and also coca, which may get a bad rap because it's what cocaine and coca-cola are made from but you cannot deny it's got kick.
Basically, Indigenous people of the Americas (South, Central, and North) went all in on botany and plant cultivation. Plants that we take for granted now have mostly been developed by Indigenous people in the past few thousand years: Tobacco, sunflowers, marigolds, tomatoes, pumpkins, rubber, vanilla, cocoa, sweetcorn, maize, and most kinds of pepper except peppercorn. These things were not found; they were made, by careful cultivation of the world as it was.
This gives us a vision of the future. Colonization, and industrial agriculture, both lean us towards the vision of a totally uniform end product, with the same potato varieties grown on each farm because we have made every farm the same. Instead we could embrace biodiversity and focus on privileging local knowledge and considering the interactions of environment, plants, microbiota, and people. We could create potatoes that were happy on Mars. We could create Mars that is happy to have us. We could create a society that can accept what Mars has to offer.
A lot of why we dream about colonizing Mars is the idea that the Earth itself is dying, that we are killing it, and we need to abandon this farmstead and seek out a new frontier. I acknowledge that shit is bad, but I don't agree with that framing. I am increasingly persuaded that there is a third path between ecological destruction and mass exodus, and I think we need to reject European colonial mentality that creates the forced choice. I find far more use in privileging the knowledge of people who live on and with land than their landlords and rulers, and I especially find value in Indigenous knowledge of land management practices and food production.
I am absolutely not saying that Indigenous people were or are wonderful magical ~spiritual beings~ who frolicked in an Edenic paradise that only knew death and disease once white people showed up. This isn't noble savage bullshit, nor am I invoking people who existed once but whom I have never met. I am saying that I have Indigenous neighbours, colleagues, relatives, and elected representatives. I have learned about mental health, leatherworking, botany, and ecology from Metis and First Nations elders and knowledge-keepers. And like. They have good and useful shit to say.
This is about culture, not race. It is not that their biological DNA means that they know more than me about how to get food from this landscape. It's about cultural history and what we learn from our heritages. What have our cultures privileged? Like, Europe has historically been super into things like metallurgy, domesticating livestock, and creating dairy products. If I want to smelt iron or choose animals to make cheese from, European society would have a lot of useful information for me! And what Indigenous cultures in the Americas have historically focused on instead of cows and copper* include 1) getting REAL familiar with your local flora and figuring out how to make sure you have lots of the herbs and grains and roots and berries you need, and 2) how to make a human society where people can live and have good lives, but do not damage the environment enough to impair the ability of future generations to have the same sort of life.
*Several indigenous American cultures did practice various forms of metallurgy. It's just one of those proportional things, about what societies really go for
Conclusion
I think we could use the processes that formed the potato to find and foster forms of life that could survive on Mars. It would involve learning to think that botany is a sexy science, and understanding just how rich and complicated the environment is. To oxygenate the atmosphere, we'd have to get super enthusiastic about algae and lichen and wetlands. We would have to learn to care deeply about the microorganisms living in the soil, and whether the potatoes are happy.
We'd have to create an economy that counts oxygen and carbon dioxide production on its balance sheets. To learn how to wait for forests to grow back after a fire, instead of giving up in despair because the seedlings aren't trees yet. To do the work now and be hopeful even though we might not see the payoffs for decades, or our victories might only be witnessed by future generations.
So yes, I think we could totally plant potatoes on Mars
But I also think that if we ever got there, we'd have turned into the kind of people who could also save Earth in the first place.
Which makes it a good enough goal in my opinion.
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robinfollies · 5 months
Text
BREATHE IN LIKE WAVES
ON A GLASS BEACH
🌊🌺🌿✨🩵
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(speedpaint + little art ramble under the cut!)
NOVEMBER 21ST… very special day for me!!! three years ago today i got into billie bust up, and two years ago today i started listening to glass beach and MAN. THEY IRREVERSIBLY CHANGED ME. my love for billie bust up + glass beach are very intertwined in my heart, they both mean A Lot to me so this piece is incredibly personal… it was pretty experimental and very much inspired by the aesthetics of the first glass beach album’s cover art, and OUH. I HAD SOO MUCH FUN. i put a lot of love and passion into this piece and i really hope that shows !!! 🥹🩵
ANYWAYS!!! WISHLIST BBU ON STEAM, STREAM THE FIRST GLASS BEACH ALBUM, GET READY FOR PLASTIC DEATH JAN 19!!! YIPPEE 💥💥💥
[🎵 glass beach - glass beach]
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sugar-petals · 1 year
Text
The Canvas (m)⎮𝚝𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚘𝚍𝚎𝚕!𝚓𝚓𝚔
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/ - CANVAS (n.) a tattoo client or professional ink model.
pairing. › dancer!jungkook + female tattoo artist!reader
❞ SUMMARY. jk serves as your canvas for a renowned LA tattoo competition. experienced in keeping it calm, you lift the trophy by giving him a full torso makeover. the prize money and glory is yours, plus his new tattoo couldn’t look any better. so, what are you gonna do with all that? 
MASTERLIST | [READ IT ON AO3]
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↳ WARNINGS/TAGS. slow burn, femdom undertones, ponytail jk, friends to lovers energy 💕, smut + slice of life, jk is buff and shy (...and a sucka for pain 😛), warning for needles obviously, profanity, jk earns money as a camboy, riding, sub-ish koo {terminology note: `skin break´ ≠ injury, but blank skin space left between ink bits}
word count. 14k
↦ CARO’S NOTE. happy 5th year blog anniversary — gotta celebrate it with a story! you will find a lot of tattoo slang and the various schools of practice in this, but it will be explained along the way. enjoy, and thank you for all the support over the years 🐯
✪ PS. in the banner you see a famous tattoo artist, miss ryan ashley and her partner. it’s just for the aesthetic 😄 the reader insert doesn’t look like this, her description is vague as always :)
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„Turns out we got actual money to blow!“
You overlook the six tied-up cash stacks on the makeshift plastic table, presented in a small iron case. In between, a massive champagne bottle: Unopened, because neither of you drinks. And, to be honest: It would not be necessary, nor pleasant in today’s oppressive heat.
The shaky nervousness from before the contest, far gone. Only adrenaline remains. And a jumping joy that makes Jungkook cover his face with both palms flat.
„I still can’t believe it!“
Since it’s his first time doing something like this, the whole event has left him increasingly weak in the knees. Jungkook really did look surprised when the results were announced in bright screen colors and the room was in absolute shambles. Standing ovations, even a couple cameras, big noise, everything.
„I know, man,“ you reply. „Wild day.“
„We did it.“
„Yeah. We can definitely be satisfied.“
You sitting down after all that maneuvering around on stage and behind it — it felt like a good way to cool off. Standing before an audience for two hours was something not to be underestimated.
Thank God there was an actual aircon back here. But still, there’s so much excess energy in your body. You can’t help but turn and turn the metal trophy in your hands, and kick your feet ever so lightly at the thought of really taking it home this time. Jungkook can’t settle on a chair at all. He’s just pacing around not knowing what to even do with his hands.
„The competition… They were so strong,“ he puffs out — the tone loaded with genuine respect rather than the much stricter attitude of discernment shared among today’s attending pros, yourself included. „They really preferred yours and not the tiger. Or the guy with the Leonardo DiCaprio portrait. That’s incredible.“
„Maybe. I think we got a better rating because yours healed so well,“ you gaze over your work again. The masterpiece of ink on him. You’re carrying a certain admitted pride in your words, but also relief. This has been one of your most ambitious tattoos in all the 15 years you’ve been in the game. It’s seriously been a journey.
In fact, the preparation cost more time and effort than inking a month’s worth of regular clients. Yes, daily practice was one thing. Competing, another. Especially with a model like that: Jungkook, whose performance had been nothing short of electric and stellar. On the ink bed, and on stage alike.
Even your fiercest opponent trying to impress the judges with their wannabe surrealistic tiger didn’t stand a chance against the level of 3D shapes and shading you created on his body. But the decision of the jury seemed close regardless, maybe for dramatic effect, so you retired backstage overjoyed. Where, and you really feel like you did his body justice, his tattoo looks just as vibrant under more crisp and cool energy-saving lamps overhead.
„Yeah, it really did heal nicely, though,“ he pats his solar plexus, almost massaging it. „It feels good.“
You bet it does. Jungkook is the type of client you would describe as— well. Very healthy.
Your mind would add some more colorful adjectives to that. But that string of thought really does stay at the back of your brain where some of your naughtier tattoo ideas reside as well. Which, and you were fine with that anyway, was certainly not the topic of today’s contest. Which rather wanted artists to show off their clean lines and some pretty harmless motifs, mind you.
Sure, the process of contests was always a little different. You didn’t care much. Some tattoo awards had the artists ink their models literally a couple hours beforehand. Others did a speed challenge on-site. Mutually nerve-wracking, but it was doable. Artists with a tight schedule did the same in their personal studios, after all. Canvasses would walk on stage with red blotchy skin all around the tattoo. This show, however, placed emphasis on longevity, the final result. To be prepared until the last detail, Jungkook had walked up in your downtown studio ten times beforehand.
As of now, a highly stylized XL rendition of Jungkook’s Doberman graced his torso. An illusion of color, created by brush strokes in ink rather than an exact replica of the polaroid pictures he had given you. Bam was a pretty cute pet dog, but also a very lively sight to see. Since you had insisted to watch Bam in motion like a live study, Jungkook brought him to the parlor more than once, which added to the hours you had spent together.
He was quite a majestic, eye-catching, streamlined dog. You had often tattooed smaller portraits of pets. Their faces usually, but not the entire animal, on a whole upper body for that matter. People usually wanted other tattoos to take precedence, like a landscape design. It took you five hours to come up with a dynamic winding pose. One that showed Bam in a slightly right-twisted bird’s eye perspective. Not in actual brown that was true to the real-life dog, but black, adding to the feel of a severe-looking brushstroke painting. Which apparently left an impression with the judges.
„And, the jury wanted enough contrast,“ you cuff your shirt on either side. „Was a good idea we went just as dark as your hair. Wouldn’t have worked as well otherwise.“
„It all fits together really well, I think. It’s become a bit, how do you say. One with me.“
Although you wouldn’t blurt that out like a preschooler, you do think so, too. Jungkook stood out among your clients as one of the cutest, with a body that was nothing short of meticulously sculpted. A waist that shocking, you’d never seen it.  Even some of the bodybuilders you had tattooed didn’t have this kind of hourglass. Perfect to pick up on some carefully planned artistry, and easy on the eye anyway. However, nothing you’d say to his face.
Yet.
Who knows. You keep your expression neutral enough when he’s around. All day, you paid special attention to maintaining a stern composure in general, given how it was such a hasty crowded event to begin with. Not that competition would always favor the stern, but it sure helped with focus.
„To be honest,“ you put the trophy onto the table now, „The judges don’t splurge their points if it’s some muddy shit. The tiger paws looked pretty washed out from some angles. Your tattoo will fucking pop in any lighting. It has to.“
Bam was as eye-catching as a tattoo as he was in real life. You paid special attention to adding enough solid black. Contrast always needed a certain amount of courage. On your side, and a client’s.
Even now, in the solely artificial lighting of this shabby backroom, the heavy blocks of extra strong ink on his ribs, sternum and stomach create a nice interplay with the shape of his upper body. Unsurprisingly, Jungkook didn’t remember to put his top back on yet. And why would he bother. It’s been piping hot in the valley districts since 9:30 AM. So hot, a couple palm trees on your way to the contest site have been looking crispy.
„That’s one of the best parts,“ he nods, all while toweling down his neck from all the sweat. The stage had burning hot overhead lights and the audience number was breaking the four digits. Stressfully enough, in terms of decibels as well. Jungkook walked offstage with you saying his ears were reeling for a solid minute. It was more than necessary to get away from all the hustle and bustle after the supposed celebration was dispersing.
„Glad you like how it turned out, then. Took a lot of risks here.“
„I, uh. Really gotta thank you though,“ Jungkook proceeds to retie his little wavy ponytail, plucking the crown and baby hairs that went astray on stage back in.
He leaves some side bangs to the front, which is what you once remarked looks the best on him with his current hair length. Little did you know he’d take this so seriously, but you haven’t seen him without a hair tie since.
„You invested so much time,“ he continues. „You couldn’t take so many other clients because of me.“
„Time doesn’t bother me that much,“ you shovel some money bands into the bulky grey rucksack you drag out from underneath your chair, then take out some bottled sparkling water instead. This backpack has been both your lifeline throughout the day. „Those weren’t the easiest sessions, that’s what I mean. But you made it through.“
„Yeah,“ he smiles. You can tell he is a bit flustered by the money.
„The other clients can honestly wait. They know I do competitions from time to time. The regulars, at least.“
A dozen people sure said they missed you. Some newbies at the studio resented you for spending your „efforts and talent on one singular canvas“, but as today’s MC of the show had said: It’s for the greater good of a career to pursue contests, and helps a tattooist to be out there. „It’s an adventure!“ was the cheesy contest tagline. Not to mention that an artist who was good enough… would meet attractive people as a `pleasant byproduct‘ as one of your fellow West Coast contestants had joked backstage.
You had rejected that mentality beforehand. Craft came first. Ironically, it was you who simply searched for the right skin, motif, and proper frame who ended up with someone attractive indeed. Those things always happen if you don’t search for it. And it was an adventure, sort of.
Jungkook didn’t exactly pass out when you moved up to the rib with your tattoo gun, but damn. He was bleeding. In essence, the first appointment turned out to be a three hour groaning session. Since he already had a complete and partially reworked sleeve, it appeared like another tattoo following many. But the second visit was so intense, it had your canvas screaming out loud at some point — albeit he stubbornly refused to take a break. `Keep going… I can handle it.´
You usually did mid-range tattoos as your specialty, but his one was gigantic and painstaking. How he muscled through that psychologically, at his tender age, you’re not sure how. After the session was done, you would hang out eating pizza in the shaded backyard of the studio, listening to pop music and talking about tattoo shows as if nothing had happened.
„You mean, it was demanding?“
„Oh yeah,“ you screw the bottle open. „Demanding is the word. I mean, count the elements. That’s almost 150 sepearate parts to fill out.“
„Right.“
„If you want a tattoo to look like a real ink stroke, you need to consider how the separate hairs of a brush would behave. The color needs to be, sorta— like disconnected. I’ve freestyled a lot of it.“
That’s also a reason why you’re sure the tiger didn’t win, and Jungkook got full points. Which surprised you more than him, something that caught you off guard in a peculiar way, even if you were endlessly happy, of course. That Jungkook was sure that you had winning potential was definitely an emotional pat on the back.
Your New York-based opponent sure did ace the Old School American style. It had some pretty memorable turquoise highlights that made the other competitor’s trendy watercolor freestyles look boring, and his canvas was beautiful. But: In your eyes, the design didn’t have an elaborate sketch behind it, and tried too hard to be East Coast.
To their demise and Jungkook’s gentle content, the judges ruled that your tattoo had 99% razor-sharp edges and a smart construction of the design: „You’ve done your studio justice.“ Because Jungkook looked promising as a canvas and he was kind as a person, you were willing to sacrifice some things to approach that level of hard perfection, even if it was `just an edgy tattoo of a random guy’s pet´ as some of your rivals had criticized you arriving on stage.
It took you three days to draw it all beforehand, and one to make a stencil that could even remotely fit on a body as curved as that. You didn’t wing it. Got creative. Stayed up. Talked a lot. Played around with the dog. Filled in every blank, and calculated every skin break to make actual sense from a distance. Jungkook had an unbreakable patience, too. Making the tattoo a big deal and taking it this far was worth the extra eye-squinting hours.
„It was fine by me. I’ll have this masterpiece for life,“ Jungkook rubs his stomach, almost as if he could caress the motif. He really does genuinely like it.
„You will. Those colors won’t fade anytime soon.“
Three weeks of successful healing time proved the durability of the tattoo and the raw diligence of preparing all this. It all went by in a hurry. The whole competition was a sequence of travel, rehearsing, check-ins, and finding some suitable lotion to oil Jungkook up with since you quickly ran out of what you brought along. He was okay with you touching him like this. Jungkook said, since you had been under his skin, being simply on it was not the slightest inconvenience.
You did over a dozen contests before. You wanted your canvas to be shining bright in front of the discerning jury. Oil would add a gleaming touch to any tattoo, and helping Jungkook apply it was more than gratifying — not just artistically. You gotta drink a big sip on that.
„Amazing,“ he continues looking down on himself, his eyes really telling how exhausting the show was, but how rewarding. The 6’3 guy who got an entire sleeve and snake motif looked like an amateur canvas next to your model. Sure, the micro tats of some other competitors weren’t exactly precise and outstanding either so it had been easy to move to the Top 10, but when a tattoo artist was talking big game, big motif, big color, they better deliver.
„So— what do we fancy for the evening,“ you wave your backpack left and right, letting the cash tumble around. „Bowling? You’d be killin’ it. Buying some clothes? Or maybe we’ll go to an expensive club. You dance on the tables, I watch random people. You know, to judge their bad tats.“
He’s laughing at that. You’re sure you’D just be watching him move at best, he’s a dancer professionally — but anyway.
You continue listing ideas, but Jungkook sort of gapes at all the options without saying anything. He’s from a modest home like you were, the big city overwhelms him, as does the fact that you won 20,000$.
„You know what,“ the bottle wanders back into your rucksack, half empty. „We probably don’t have the energy to just straight up throw some big balls at a couple bowling pins, eh.“
Jungkook laughs again.
„Guess not. Would all just land in the gutter.“
„And shopping, that’s running a marathon. Maybe we can go to the club next week. What if we just sit on my terrace and watch some clouds? Back to the roots. I always do that to get inspiration.“
Jungkook perks up. You already invited him to your house before. It was a quicker, gentler recoloring session on a pretty dull rainy morning. To make sure he was competition ready, you carefully retouched some of his existing tattoos. His oldest, dearest ones. That’s how he got to see the Grey Room. Your art atelier, so to speak. Why grey? Because you don’t smudge — and the chair will prove it. Messy tattooists won’t go far, that was your opinion. Buying a black tattoo chair was an excuse.
„Hm, why not, I mean,“ he stumbles over his words, but you can tell he’s interested.
„Okay,“ you get up from your creaky chair, collecting the rest of your stuff, and he helps you with it. „It’s a done deal. You’ll see more of the house. The food is all prepared. Like, to perfection.“
During his recoloring session, Jungkook had to catch the bus right after, plus another client, Namjoon, came in for a lengthy consultation. It was all about whether you’d be sending Namjoon to an aesthetician for a laser treatment, or try to cover up the botched crooked rose on his pecs with a bigger design to one-up your precursor, this absolute idiot of a ‚line artist specialist‘. Your ass. It’s a crime to soil a person’s skin like that. Namjoon came in completely devastated and in need for help, so Jungkook quickly left. It ended up being the latter option, you tattoed a big fat 3D bonsai tree across the rose.
You only got back to Jungkook two days later, checking how his color was healing through video chat. He had stripped down enough for you to see the progress, and you tried your best to be professional, analyzing the next steps. Which had you excited, he always recovered exceedingly well, but you were both in a busy phase. Yet, you really couldn’t complain about not having him around. This tattoo and contest was a once-in-a-lifetime two-people project. It felt like being an Italian designer, taking your flagship testimonial to fashion week.
„Food?“
„I had Yoongi handle the ice cream maker this morning,“ you put on your shades, ready to go with your backpack filled to the brim. „But don’t tell anyone, lest my house gets robbed again. Banana flavor, by the way.“
Jungkook strangely doesn’t look as happy as you thought he’d be. But then again, not so strangely. Once the needle is inside and the first drop of ink settles in, you can read a canvas’ mind. It’s a connection that cannot be explained.
„Okay,“ is the lukewarm reply. He shoulders his own cross-body bag without really checking it once. Since he forgot his tank top, you hand it to him. It takes a couple seconds to register at all.
„Something not right?“
„It’s just, I wondered,“ he fumbles with the bag’s kinda tucked-in zipper. „You have— a boyfriend? Yoongi?“
„Ah, him,“ you chuckle. „No, Yoongi is my personal chef.“
„Oh, I see, the chef. I just, um.“
Jungkook looks wildly flustered at that realization, trying to find an excuse of looking away by fixing his ponytail, and rubbing his neck. Almost as if he got caught red-handed.
„And assistant. And the one who cleans my pool. And he schedules all my clients unless I do it myself. Yoongi handles everything on demand basically, so I can do this,“ you point at the surrounding hallway after opening the backroom’s lanky door.
A big red banner reading - LOS ANGELES ANNUAL TATTOO AWARDS - stretches well across the wall, and the area seems completely swept of people.
You did spend quite a lot of time talking backstage after you gave an interview for the local press while Jungkook posed for the camera — despite his first time doing this, like a natural.
„Seems like the competition headed home already,“ is your dry comment, but you’re not that surprised. It was too warm to linger in this building complex for any longer than the show lasted. You didn’t even register how stuffy the air was since you got so carried away together, talking. Although you would have loved to talk to some of the attending experienced masters, maybe it had been a good idea to dodge the hype.
„They really did hurry home.“
„That’s what we’ll do as well. Fifty scoops for each of us. Yoongi always makes a generous amount of ice.“
„Wow, it’s really all taken care of then,“ Jungkook finally manages to stuff the tanktop back into his bag, absent-minded. He hasn’t even considered putting it on, then. He’s too busy admiring that you have such a thing as a personal assistant and cook. The two of you tread down the hallway, causing a bit of an echo.
Jungkook looks at ease learning that Yoongi is more of a janitor. You give him the side eye, which he shamefully returns with a nervous laugh.
„I figure you like banana. And walking around like Abercrombie and Fitch.“
You point at the mauve-colored tank top that’s hanging out of his bag, caught by the zipper.
„Oh, oops!“ it finally clicks with a big flinch. He’s really been half-naked all the time, and only now makes an effort to pull the crumpled little piece of clothing back on. „I didn’t notice! I think the tattoo makes me feel dressed, um.“
„Car’s gonna be piping until the A/C runs full throttle,“ you head the way to the motor park, sandals randomly clacking onto the heated concrete. „Next thing you know, you’re gonna chuck your jeans into the Malibu beach waves and don’t  even notice.“
„No, no worries. I uh, I’m back to behind the scenes mode,“ Jungkook’s giggling to himself, trying not to make it too obvious that he was quick to react.
„Took you almost half an hour,“ you say through a big grin, getting out your dangly car keys with the miniature plush bunny attached to it. Flashback to last month, Jungkook bought it for you as a thank-you present after he heard you mope about always overlooking your keys.
„Dancer thing,“ he says, sounding wildly apologetic. „I usually don’t wear that much.“
„Talk about getting naked,“ you both settle in the car, a block of heat hitting you in the faces. „You can use my shower to scrape off all that oil. There must be some kind of special cleanser I got, the one with the light green stripe on it.“
„Yeah, it’s gotten so sticky—“ Jungkook turns to check his back. „My shoulder will smudge that oil on the backrest… sorry.“
„I’ll leave the seat cleaning to Yoongi, he likes looking after the car,“ is all you can comment, kick-starting your car. What follows is the deep humming noise that the engine typically emits when the LA heat is extra crazy. „You can turn on the radio over there. It’s kind of a one-hour ride from here. You said you sing pretty well?“
The now switched-on A/C blows his tanktop around the way it wants. Maybe L.A. is cooking today because Jungkook is out here.
Rolling into your garage, you realize you’ve brought home everything: Except the champagne bottle. Fuck it, the heat in the car would have done weird things to the oh-so sparkling content, and putting it in a flash freezer at home would have resulted in a fizzy explosion that would leave Yoongi with some high ceilings to scrub. Treating yourself to some cold juice sounds much better. You have no interest acting out drunk and passed out on the floor in Jungkook’s presence. And in case an impromptu tattoo happens, alcohol is the last thing you want in his blood. The same goes for everything more than just a tattoo.
The metal trophy, which is elegantly shaped like a stencil and lighter than you thought, is more important. After parking, that one goes straight to the Grey Room award wall. You’re chugging the rest of your bottled water in one whole go. Sitting next to him had your eyes averted from the street more often than not, which in and of itself was a bad idea — but who knew a traffic jam could be a nice thing, especially if it took two hours.
Jungkook is busy otherwise. Exhausted from the black seat’s stored warmth, he exits the car moaning out loud at the heat outside. And, from a later-day sun having grilled the right-hand side of his body. Through the car window, all the way. His body is chilled from the A/C, almost freezing down the sweat on his tanktop, at least that’s what it felt like, until you noticed he was shaky and dialed it down. Jungkook is actually a little hoarse from singing his heart out. That will fade in a minute, though, he says.
While he takes that so needed shower, you dig through an absent Yoongi’s clothing rack, built into his assistant wardrobe. Since Yoongi is on the smaller side, there aren’t too many options, but you guess he’ll survive.
Feeling much better now, Jungkook winds up dangling his legs into your garden pool fifteen minutes later. That is, with extremely tight tennis shorts and otherwise nothing on, yet again. The white of the fabric might be opaque, but his thighs are big enough to let either leg ride up. Yoongi can be glad he buys so much stretch material, otherwise, those shorts would be bursting at the seams.
Unlike during the way home from today’s show, the yellow-pinkish color of the sky is finally worthy of a tattoo artist’s eyes looking at it. The white pillars of your terrace frame the outlook effortlessly like a little arcade, and the pool water feels like it has been cooling down significantly around your calves. No smog, no direct sunlight, no skylines. You’d not allow Jungkook to step even one foot in your backyard topless as he is if the sun was still high up. His tattoo had to be carefully preserved.
„I do like banana. Anything banana.“
He licks up a drop of surplus ice cream from the back of his thumb. It’s all melting in record time despite the 9 PM cool approaching. You both have to be quick. Luxury problems — at the expense of your waiting lemonade. Which you told Jungkook to feel free to pour up for the both of you during your own bathroom break some minutes ago. You changed into something even looser, put your base cap on, and the ice was already getting a little too creamy under the poolside evening glow.
„Mmh. Self-made ice cream is a whole ’nother level,“ you twist your cone. Mainly, to take off the melting edge of your scoop with the right corner of your mouth. „Cools the vocal cords, does it.“
„Seriously didn’t sing that much in a while,“ he cracks a smile, and you can tell he missed having free time like this.
„You’re not out of the loop, though. I could have taken you to America’s Got Talent and we still would have won. Hell, the Masked Singer. Dressed as a Green Raccoon. Or a fencing man. Lord knows what. You got a beautiful voice.“
Jungkook almost chokes on his ice cream at the mental image of that.
„I guess I’d rather be dancing,“ he shakes his head, „and walking around at a tat con. I’m really nervous about that one.“
„We can chill, that’s four weeks from now,“ you sip on your lemonade eventually, swallowing an ice cube that has melted down to a peanut-sized chunk. „You’ll get used to your new look by then. And everyone is out there, it’s packed. They all wanna outdo each other. We’ll blend in somewhere. Even if it’s probably not gonna be much cooler and we’ll still look like glazed donuts. We might as well leave the oil at home.“
Which didn’t sound to unrealistic. You’ve had Yoongi book the two of you for a tattoo convention display down at Hacienda Heights. Body Art Expo — one of the biggest events in the area. You could finally showcase your latest craft and meet some of your role models. This year, an influx of famous contemporary Japanese masters was guaranteed.
The overarching theme was announced to be traditional horimono craft. You’ve been dying to set up a little booth and take Jungkook with you to see the best of the best, and also flaunt his own frontal tattoo.
„Yoongi might as well park an ice cream truck for us there,“ he jokes.
„You’ll definitely need ice indeed after I go buckwild and give you a whole beginner’s hand poking treatment.“
„Hand what?“
„Hand poking,“ you laugh. „Tebori artists don’t really use automatic needles with some exceptions. It’s all done manually. You prick the skin by hand. Even the tattoo needle you have make on your own.“
„Like DIY, completely yourself?“
He got you started on one of your favorite topics. Well, well.
„Yes. It’s like a small wooden or metal stick. It has a grouping of needles fastened to it by string.“
„Oh… so that’s why— by hand.“
„Yes. And it doesn’t stop there. A machine has say, nine to 35 needles. My favorite tattoo gun has 22. Japanese traditional can go as far as 42. That’s why outlines are so difficult to do in that technique. And the gradients. Those are fucking hard. Getting a tebori  tattoo is expensive with good reason.“
„42 needles!“
„Depends. It actually bleeds less. You feel relaxed after a session. The whole thing is like. Eleven inches long, bit more. The artist has ultimate control over how deep it locks in the coloring fluid.“
„Um, yes,“ is all he can say staring.
„The artist will use a sponge to pick up the ink, and drive the stick in by hand. Hence they call it hand poke. A full-body tattoo can take a year to complete. But the color has the best saturation. The needles are thicker, you can put lots and lots of ink under the skin that way.“
Which is why you’re so interested in it. Six years plus until you’d be able to fully practice that technique on someone. It’s your goal for your later career. To have your own tattoo family, apprentices, and letting the art live on through your canvases.
Maybe settling in Japan itself to learn from the best, or remaining overseas. As long as you’d be able to hand poke a clean line like a true master and sketch properly, artfully, just as the craft demanded. Time and place wouldn’t matter.
„You said that Japanese tattoos work with woodblocks, right?“
„It’s inspired by woodblock carving art,“ you nod, pulling out your phone. Plenty of pictures to show him, over 600, if not more. You shade the display with one hand and sit closer to Jungkook, swiping through the gallery.
„The actual design is painted with soot ink beforehand,“ you keep on explaining. „Like, a phoenix. A river, with flora. Some scenes of a kabuki theatre play. Or a goddess figure, that’s pretty common.“
Jungkook does look as hooked as you are. And— as a side note: He smells damn good from the cleanser you gave him. That shower must have been thorough. You sort of don’t smell it anymore when you use it, but when it mixes with his scent, that’s a whole different thing.
„That’s so cool… Would you do that on me?“
„Jungkook,“ you raise your brows at him. „That technique takes years to learn. With a mentor— And endless copying practice of their grand pieces.“
„You even need a teacher and copy what they do? That’s crazy.“
„When we go to the fair, I might get my hands on a bamboo needle to see how it’s like to hold. But I’ll probably just stand there and watch in awe just like you.“
„Wow. We’ll really be able to see a lot there.“
Jungkook’s posture appears significantly less tensed-up now, and you know you took his nervousness about the convention by directing his mind to a new idea. That he asked you to give him a traditional-style tattoo by hand without even hesitating has left an impression, but you try not to let your face show your respect. Most canvasses would be skeptical, frightened, or completely dismissive of the technique. Jungkook is nothing short of sexy, it’s literally right next to you — but it’s his open mind that makes him interesting.
„I know, right. But you still might be lucky getting a Japanese tat from me.“
„Really?“
He almost jolts up, which makes his left thigh rub against you by accident.
„Okay, I can’t just walk up and hand carve an entire body suit into your skin. Right. But you can actually do parts of horimono with, you know, automatic needles and stuff. Many traditional studios do outlines by machine these days, and only the coloring or shades by hand.“
„They do it both?“
„Pretty much. Hybrid tebori. The art of doing precise lines by stick is recently dying out. If we use the gun instead, for everything? You can still get a goddess tattoo like an original motif. It does take practice and immense research. But it’s doable with modern machines and an excellent design.“
If you think about it, Jungkook might just be the perfect canvas to dive deeper into Japanese tattooing, even more so than you already did. Not being able to do it the manual way would irk you, but you can work with what you have.
„Any suggestions where?“ he looks across his body, traces his hands, deliberating. „I mean, it could go anywhere for me. But, I mean you should choose where it fits the best.“
You do know a perfect spot, in fact.
The slimness of his hip makes it so that an ascending motif would widen up perfectly on the shoulder area. On the other hand, the extreme curve of his spine could easily warp the design when looked at from afar, so that had to be carefully considered. It’s all a matter of adaptation. You can already see details of this next project form before your inner eye, still.
„Your back is completely virginal, so. What about that.“
„Right, of course!“
„And that’s where you find a traditional placement anyway.“
Some proper skin breaks between the shoulder blades, maybe some more grey towards the waist level, putting in more contrast across the shoulders and neck… it all starts to form in your head. Fuck, Jungkook’s neck is actually your dream target area. Front and back. The underside of his jaw as well. Peak difficulty.
A pet peeve for many of your colleagues in the field because the skin is so delicate and hard to put a design on. Many people just say fuck this shit and freehand it completely. But to you: Sweetest spot you can think of. If he’s good to go, you’ll ink him with his neck hung from the edge of your tattoo furniture one day with an extra anesthetic. Maybe some kind of animal or interlocking pattern. It’s gonna look fucking awesome.
„Would you like, actually sketch something for me?“
„Sure. Or we’ll work together with a master who will design something with ink on paper to suit your body perfectly. We still need an entry piece for next year’s tat awards.“
„But I only want your stencil,“ he finishes biting off the lower half of his ice cream cone, looking pretty disgruntled at the idea of someone else being in charge of his back. You would rather consider an expert, but you can see his point. Everything on his body should look coherent, as in one singular handwriting. And you heard it. He only wants your stencil or nothing at all.
Of course the back has to match the abs and the pecs. Only a consistent style would ensure that Jungkook’s tattoos would come together as an aesthetic whole that carried your signature, which was not just something a show jury would appreciate. It was a just because thing.
„Fine by me, it’ll just take longer. And we do color.“
Which means, more time spent in the Grey Room, where you would keep all of your treasures. The inner city studio you share with your colleague, Taehyung, who was more of a Neo Traditional and portrait enthusiast. He also did blackwork just like you. That meant the present ink supply was either batshit crazy colors and dark shades only. Hence, you set up your own extra coloring studio at home to specialize.
„Love the idea!“
„So it’s a done deal, huh. We’ll do the project in the Grey Room by then, I’m thinking.“
It needs a different atmosphere and lighting to really get the most out of the hues. And: You created this area to make a canvas open up and relax. With your technique and shading style, coloring in the big areas was always a real pain in the ass for anyone with skin that wasn’t super thick.
Taehyung’s philosophy was always to ‚paint‘ his clients in a suave and fleeting way, whereas your approach was always go hard or go home. Jungkook could handle it, and his skin was rewarding to work on when it came to recovery. You can tell he’s more than excited.
„Really, thank you for this…“
„If a couple months work sounds like fun to you, we’re gonna walk up with another 20,000€ price money next year.“
You are starting to enjoy this idea of Jungkook being a tattoo muse, sort of like the faux Greek statues and busts that you had Yoongi put up around the garden when you moved in here. A lot of tattoo artists you were friends with were inspired by the renaissance, and you could see the appeal. That Jungkook was a walking Greek aesthetic with his curls and decadent body really does fit well into your home, now that you think about it.
„I have no problem hanging out here at all,“ he’s munching, tongue in cheek. „Your house is amazing. I bring along some groceries and such when you’re too busy. If, if you want.“
„Really?“
„Long as you can sketch in peace. I like doing laundry and those things.“
„Yoongi will appreciate it. More time for cooking his latest creations. You’re already renting out his clothing, we can cut him some slack there, huh. Doing a full landscape and figure will take us twice as long as with your ribs.“
And those were already insane to do. The skin was behaving almost like paper in some bits. Only the fact that he works out decently enough has probably saved Jungkook from losing his mind then and there. His back is going to be much easier to tattoo.
„A background landscape as well? “ he drops his jaw. „This is genius… Maybe we should do it later this year, September or so.“
„Good call,“ you blink. „Gonna be a bit colder. And you’re gonna be a birthday boy. A tat’s always a nice gift to yourself.“
The reality is: Most tattoo artists would kill to secure a canvas that was so patient. It was a biased view, but Jungkook would not just be a wanted man in his dating pool (which he already is, he’s told you about a lot of concerning things in his DMs) if he graced the cover of `Inked´ magazine.
The whole ink world would come running. You already brace yourself for the storm of showing him off at Body Art Expo. He would be noticed. Today’s experience showed his potential. People found him likable and sweet, and the muscles got them going. You worried if Jungkook would have to be protected from too much attention in the community. It wouldn’t be long until you wouldn’t be alone in a cool-down room. Today’s show wasn’t the busiest, but an Expo would be. People would absolutely bother him. Rather than asking you about your tattoo journey, or anything else constructive and useful.
„I’m really getting a back tattoo,“ Jungkook is buzzing with energy, splashing around water with his feet. His voice is just fine by now, only a hint of raspy at best. The energy low of the backstage room is pretty much forgotten.
„I’ll sit myself down with some books and I’ll get back to you next month with a first  rough draft, yeah?“
„Can’t wait!“
„And after that,“ you shoot him a warning gaze more jokingly, „I’m sketching for your legs, too. Maybe with a realistic thigh tattoo. Or with some big red highlights and otherwise black only.“
„Woah! Red and black?!“
„Anything’s possible. Though, you know. Only if you want to, of course. I’m just brainstorming.“
But those thighs basically scream for ink, oh my god. You can’t even hold yourself back. Was he actually okay with that? By the looks of it, Jungkook didn’t have a single problem with you planning out his whole body’s new design.
„I have nothing against being a BLACKWORKS gallery,“ pats his thighs the most innocent way you could imagine. „I know I’m in good hands.“
BLACKWORKS was the name of your tattoo parlor, carrying with it the color you had specialized in. Ironically, setting up the Grey Room was the exact opposite, making a space to dabble in color. It was sort of the bane of your existence. One or the other, both, or alternatingly? Your sentiment changed with every larger project or every other client.
„Well, thank you. Any further questions?“
„I um… I don’t want to sound rude, but.“
„You don’t sound like it’s anything offensive, though,“ you lower your shades to squint at him.
„What are you like planning,“ he kneads his palms against each other, „I mean, with the prize money? I was, you know, just, uh curious. You always create cool projects and stuff, that’s why.“
„Oh that? We need that money for all the fucking ink you’ll be wearing!“
„Help!“ he squeals out, just as joking now.
„Seriously though. You’re gonna be my most expensive canvas. Taehyung spent a fortune finding the right pigment for all the True Black that went here,“ you point at his chest. „Only the highest quality Acrylic components in there. No metals, no allergens. No nothing.“
„Is it organic? That’s so Los Angeles,“ Jungkook giggles into his hand, trying not to make some organic this, organic that joke most probably.
„Better than having that shit in your lymph system. We don’t want that.“
„Thanks, you’re looking out for me.“
No toxins for your canvasses. And nothing you don’t know the effects of. More clients gotta get some education about this.
„Just duty. And LA sucks, I don’t care. Cheers.“
For the last sip of lemonade, you toast, and Jungkook reiterates that he’s feeling very much in safe hands — especially now that you offered him a sofa place to sleep on.
It’s really too late to drive him home. The highway ride would take ages, the traffic is even more terrible at this hour. Returning at like 2 or 3 AM would set you up for a lackluster sleep routine. He’s living alone in his flat so there’s nobody to inform, he’s not urgently missed and needed for something. That there’s no one waiting for him always surprises you.
That Jungkook is his own best roommate and doesn’t cohabit with his parents, all in a decently well-off part of the city on top of that — not the most flashy one, cozier, but still — tells you that he must dance pretty damn well and knows how to live life. He probably thinks the same about you anyway, although he keeps on saying you work too much for your own good, which might have a grain of truth.
You do wish you lived a bit like him. Then again, you’re well aware he has a hard time sometimes. Going by pictures he showed you, the flat he has isn’t a bad one at all. You don’t charge him for the tattoos, obviously. They’re competitive entries based on your decisions, not commissioned pieces. He offered pay, but you rejected the eight hundred bucks.
On a day where he let his guard down after three hours of conversation, Jungkook told you he’s selling his pics and videos between otherwise casual sentences. That was about two month ago. He didn’t say what pics and what videos, but you were beginning to connect the dots.
All the signs, they were there. The way he undressed, the way he was aware of how he came across, the way he was so photogenic. You worked extra hard on getting the clarity of the tattoo right. It’s one thing to look at black ink pigments in daylight or below the artificial lighting of a studio, but on camera, it’s absolutely a different thing.
Why he opened up to you, you don’t know. It was inconsequential. He didn’t mention it again, and it didn’t look like he was observing your reaction to it.
There was no telling what his shy tone of voice was supposed to say, or his intent, and you guess it all had many meanings at once. Maybe he just said it to say it. To get something off his chest. Jungkook often hesitated to vent, but he was honest telling you that. If anything — he trusted you enough to do so.  
„I’ll just give you one of these at this point,“ you weed through your closet, pulling drawers, checking metal hangers. Eventually, Jungkook catches a white sporty tee that you’re tossing him, and lays down on the white king-size couch in the center of the living room. 11 PM. Sunday tomorrow. None of you caught a heat stroke. You’re both not that tired yet. There might as well be something left to do. So… Well.
„Have a good night’s sleep then,“ Jungkook smiles, already half settled— about to put on the shirt. You gotta stop him in this tracks somehow before he’s dressed again.
„Maybe it’s still time for a little treat,“ you say, wiggling your eyebrows at him, which he reciprocates with unbridled surprise.
„Did Yoongi put some other desert in the fridge, or—“
You shake your head.
„No, no. Something else. Actually, way else. Wait here, Jungkook.“
„O.k.?“
„Heading back in just a minute,“ you turn your head across your shoulder. „Look at my drawings on the wall or something.“
He does, gazing around the spacious room that is actually pretty bright and light at this hour. The team that did the electrics in here were absolute top tier in their field, although the house did not pass as 100% interior art. Rather, the tall walls were clad in big unfinished pen sketches and other blackwork ideas behind frames, mostly showing anatomical poses and various animals from all around the globe. Looking up, Jungkook got lost in a painting that showed a distorted self-portrait of you while drawing something on a table. Art of the artist doing art.
„You need to get yourself some of this,“ you interrupt, posturing yourself in the doorframe upon returning. Jungkook’s head twists in record time. His confusion is more than visible all across his face reacting to what you’re holding up with your right hand.
„Is that… Is that— Lubricant!“
Someone looks pretty damn flustered right now and it’s not you.
„Oh my god Jungkook,“ you shuffle closer to the sofa, thoroughly amused. „Actually read what’s on this tube. Here.“
You hand the mysterious black item to a very panicked mess of a weekend guest.
„Aftercare cream?!“
„Read on.“
„…for protecting tattoos.“
He just looks mighty exasperated now. Oh Jesus.
„Come on. It’s not some kind of after-bondage ointment,“ you laugh. „Just plain ole tattoo balm, okay. Nothing BDSM going on here.“
„Yeah… Yeah.“
„The whole thing’s pretty much a vibrancy serum, healing cream, moisturizing lotion, et cetera. All in one. That is considered a treat in my book. Treat as in skin treatment.“
„I uh, should have figured.“
Jungkook’s knee-jerk reaction has him crouching together in a gullible pose on the sofa, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand. Broke a sweat for a minute there, did he.
„Your tattoo had a lot of stuff going on today. Oil and sun and sweat and chlorine, too. We’re not gonna let it rest unprotected tonight. There’s some regeneration it has to do.“
As per the contest rules, tattoos need to be fully healed to enter anyway, so today he’s not been freshly inked under the UV rays outside. But it’s still better to apply cream to support the tattoo as it is. And exposing Jungkook’s dirty mind for the sheer fun of it.
„Am a bit of a dummy,“ he hands the lotion back to you.
„The clean air around here has you wearing tennis shorts… and your mind in the gutter, does it,“ you snap the tube open, squeezing a generous double dime-size amount into your palm. It’s not like you didn’t check him out all day. Two minds in the gutter? That’s twice the fun.
„Sorry.“
„Don’t be. Now let me work it in, I’ll do that for you. The shirt needs to wait for another minute again. Fine by you?“
„Okay!“
„Then relax. It needs to be spread out properly.“
Running your hands across one’s favorite canvas should be considered a therapeutic method for any tattoo artist out there. You need to listen to a lot of shit, discuss a lot of shit, compete against a lot of shit, and draw a lot of even more shitty shit. It’s only fair you get to enjoy the silver lining as well. Savoring what you all do it for: Enjoying the aesthetic and the feel of the skin.
Jungkook is as pliant as ever accepting the treatment, and the balm does what it’s supposed to do. Seeping in, refreshing the skin, cooling it off. You knead his body in broad strokes of your palms, making sure the coverage is even. The tattoo again proves its bold winning ways shining bright even under the low ceiling lamp, and you again congratulate each other. No scabs at all, and the whole jury convinced. You beat a tiger, the watercolor dudes, tiny tat mania, Leonardo DiCaprio, and the tall snake bloke. The result was a memorable rendition of a pet dog that your client could not get enough of. What more could you really ask for.
 Jungkook visibly hums under your touch and seems to react with cozy noises having his sides massaged. You’re careful with the ribs, his sensitive area. You’re totally not lingering on the pecs for a little longer. Your mind revolves around the thought of sitting down on his thighs to unpack the real treat and finally ride out your craving.
„What if we,“ you start, „You know. Actually use some lubricant. Here on this sofa.“
„Huh—? Really? In a way that…“
Jungkook awakes from his half-slumber that your hands had so calmly induced. In fact, he goes from sleeping beauty to wide alert in two seconds, propping himself up from the sofa cushions. To meet you face to face — he’s incredulous. Well, you aren’t exactly feeling coherent either, which surprises you, too.
„Sure! I mean. If you want to. There’s some of it in the other room that I can fetch. I figured we might. Just for fun, and… We know each other for a while now. To me it would be nice. Nothing fancy, just. We just do our thing if we like it. I’m still your tattooist. I wished we could sleep with each other at some point. I didn’t say anything because we had to focus on competing. Sorry for that.“
„Please, please don’t.“
„I preferred to make it about work until we sat at the pool today. If we’re fucking… It should be a comfortable moment where we really got to know each other already. You were pretty shy. So I was careful, right, although I’ve been teasing you anyway, I don’t know what you thought about that, if that was funny or not. But you know, the heat of the moment.“
„Don’t worry, I liked it.“
„I also didn’t want to make it look like I was trying to get in your videos for money or just because you do them, or mess with your personal business. I know this is a separate thing. So I was more, uh, asking casually. With the conventions and our projects, I want nothing to change there.“
„No, of course.“
„If we make this a big deal, I thought it would be risky. When I ask you this, there’s always the chance that it gets weird, people are being particular and act different when getting intimate like that, no matter if the night is good or bad or boring. But to me, I thought, after all our sessions being the way they were we had a body feeling for each other that was more progressed than just having sex. And I was curious how it would be naked, how we’d be catching up. Because you’re really hot to me… I really want to be on top of you. I waited so long to say this. God, fuck, Jungkook.“
„Yes.“
„Hm?“
„Yes, I want to. I’ve… been thinking about it as well.“
It’s a bashful confession that comes with a lot of baggage off his shoulders, you can tell. This all has been simmering underneath the surface. At least you managed to spill it all out yourself. Drawing a 3D face was infinitely easier, tattooing an inner fucking lip was easier. But now he was in the know, if he wasn’t before.
„Makes two of us,“ you twirl at his curly bangs with one digit finger. „Should I get it? And some other stuff. So we’re safe.“
„I, I have some protection in my bag,“ Jungkook goes on stumbling over his words, clearly not prepared for you touching his hair so playfully. „Just a minute. It’s upstairs. In the shower.“
Standing up, you both separate ways with telling, loaded glances. Jungkook couldn’t climb the stairs any faster, his expression is so sheepish. You really fucking did it. You asked and he said yes. Damn, hell yeah.
Walking into your dark bedroom, you pick up a non-fragrant wet wipe to clean your hands from any tat cream residue, although you’ve really worked it into him. Every last corner of his torso. The sleeve as well.
You constantly taught him how to take care of his arm and the other tattoos, but this was a new one. Jungkook will keep the healing cream, you’ll gift it to him. It’s high-priced stuff, but why’d you care. Your home tresor now holds a whopping 20,000$ in cash, and you can topple into your bed happy and content after knowing you own the L.A. tattoo scene as of today.
Jeon Jungkook, he was truly a standout client. Picking up the bottle of lube from underneath your bed, you couldn’t believe you just make the step to breach the professional, invisible wall of being artist and canvas. The excitement gave you a nice gut feeling that was similar to walking up at the show’s venue this morning. You’d have him on the couch, you’d get some fucking dick tonight, no sketching, no planning, no phone calls, no nothing.
You bring a large towel that Jungkook puts under his back and legs, protecting the sofa. Two water bottles, too, there he goes. Although you don’t want this to be the most sweaty exercise of all time, you both have to stay hydrated. After such a stuffy long day, anyhow.
He looks hot chugging it down up to the half-a-litre mark, and you drink from your own bottle with one hand pulling down your pants to the knees. He helps you remove them across your ankles, and he leaves two little kisses on your lower shins. It’s the first time feeling his lips are on you, and it’s a peck just as unique as you thought it would be.
When you hook your index fingers at the top of his shorts, you notice that Jungkook already fitted a blue condom inside his pants.
He didn’t want to do it in front of you and make it awkward, or expect you to touch him just for practicality first rather than touching him for sensuality first. Obviously it could be hot rolling it down on a guy, feeling up what would be inside of you, the whole girth. But safe to say he knew what he was doing. Jungkook didn’t want to compromise you. With all your thoughts that you had, that was a subtle act of reassuring.
Since you brought along the lubricant, you could still get to enjoy having your hand wrapped around him, spreading the heavy liquid rather liberally, feeling it melt around him. You wiped your hand on the towel and climbed up to his lap while Jungkook was kicking off his pants with a hip-to-knee coordination that you haven’t seen yet.
It dawns on you. How could you forget what he usually does. He wasn’t just a dancer by profession, but at heart. Those things were hard to suppress or not do. Just like you couldn’t look at Jungkook without feeling inspired to create tattoos. Which, and you couldn’t lie to yourself, his bare skin was desperately begging for, it was so inviting. You already saw him more than scantily clad, but with his shorts down, his waist and hip showed themselves in their best light. You loved his body shape.
And damn, it felt so good to finally be naked in that summer evening heat, feeling the A/C lightly tickle up your spine and neck from behind. It cooled down your back just right, and you chucked away your underwear for it not to lay around on the sofa. Although the lube was more than enough to go by, you gathered some saliva in your mouth to spit on his dick. It made him twitch and moan, „Yes please.“
There was no need for any aperitif, you weren’t in the mood to go through any foreplay. Jungkook looked delicious enough to have you on edge, and the lubricant would do the rest to make him gliding inside even smoother. You squatted over him and aligned yourself, got comfortable in stabilizing your legs this way.
Jungkook closed his eyes and only looked when the tip was way in, approaching the mid-length of his cock squeezing inside of you. Of course you were still a little tight, but some positioning would change the angle for the better. Jungkook asked if he could use his hands and got green lights from you. Judging by how they were slightly dry on your skin and the scent they had, Jungkook soaped them down when he was picking up his cross-body bag from the bathroom some minutes ago. Everything by the book.
One on your hip, the other playing with your clit, you began to realize just how good he was with his beautiful fingers. It wasn’t just you having the manual skills in this relationship. He was remarkably cautious and had concentrated eyes. So far, you enjoyed that Jungkook was more observing rather than staring, and had such a nice ring to his moaning voice as if he was a singer.
From your perspective, seeing his tattoed fingers curl between your labia and his tight chest muscles moving right along made you crave more cock inside. It slid in almost naturally with the stimulation that came from his fingertips. Jungkook’s voice went right along with it, describing in sounds rather than words what the situation was like.
„That’s really good, stay in that spot,“ you told him, and added a slight up and down to your movement on his dick. Only a slight drag on his shaft made it harder to push him inside further, but that was likely because he had been growing in size a little more.
Learning how to tattoo meant studying some architecture as well to be able to pull it off, and in your case, you soaked up all historic Greek building styles there everywhere. If you were to describe Jungkook as a column, it would be Doric. Full in the middle, definitely not Corinthian in length, actually more Roman Tuscan which was full and convex with a slender, triangular tip that extended toward a nice curving girth the further down you went to the middle.
„So pretty. Your dick feels good.“
„I really hoped you’d like it.“
Meanwhile, he had less circumference at the base. Which you found pleasing to the eye, and pleasing when you sunk down on him fully. That meant squeezing down some lube which would squirt on his balls and made your labia extra slick and juicy, stretching on the sides of his shaft like soaked little lips.
A bit would splatter to the side and smear across the lower side of your ass. It pulled threads when you were reaching the lowest point of your bounce, which alerted Jungkook’s usually waist-bound hand. He had noticed that you felt discomfort with it and wiped it flat to the side in one go.
To your surprise, he gently licked across the sides of his fingers to clean it up. Jungkook licking his tattoos had to be something you didn’t know you needed and one of the top five things happening today. The innocence but quick efficiency with which he did it, priceless. He didn’t stick out his tongue that much, just a decent fourth of it. His calm and naughtiness spoke of low performance anxiety, which you attributed to him being camera-savvy, doing his solo videos.
Still, going balls deep had Jungkook whimpering through his teeth with his eyes closed again, an immense tension spread across his face. Even his left hand on your clit briefly stopped. He had to accommodate to being inside, so you wouldn’t go on moving until his features would relax a little more and he sighed out. It was all fully in the moment and you loved to continue moving up once he was okay again.
Jungkook and you were comfortable with one position for now. In your head, you have a thousand things just like a full-body tattoo would look like, but in reality, you can only ink one thing at a time. Perfecting his little quickie would pay off much more than bending each other around. He had been hectic enough going up the stairs, he had been nervous and confused all day. You had so many ups and downs of adrenaline yourself. This had to be deliberate.
Although you told him he didn’t have to if he couldn’t do it, you found yourself asking Jungkook to give you some understated hip work. Just to begin meeting you halfway, to press his balls against you softly, to create some more lewd noises — and to see his whole body go like clockwork so you would see his tattoos dance above his muscles.
Since he observed you well, Jungkook amped up the stimulation enough for you to feel your pleasure starting to build up fast like a coil waiting to be undone, at its very peak of feel-good. The thought of having a climax right on his dick was spurring you to move, chasing the high and needing the smack of your ass against the jerk of his desperate thighs.
„Keep going… I can handle it!“
Jungkook sounded like he was about to cry, which told you he must have cum inside the condom. Hell, he was moaning so passionately, it could have been at any point in time. Going by his usual policy, he didn’t want to put pressure on you or mess up your own timing. He left you to do your own thing, just like you said you wanted. Lord knows he might have popped a pill in the bathroom to keep his dick up for long enough.
All you knew was, the suction created by you riding him very roughly at a high pace kept him erect, leaving you space to cum on his sloppy dick before Jungkook would enter a post-sex delirium. It was sudden and left you clenching up, heart rate thumping and a huge wave of release making the round through your torso. You squeezed him tight, he reacted by slowing his waist down. That way, you could savor the orgasm without disturbance, and leave your eyes shut for a moment. Jungkook helped you go from squatting on the heels of your feet to the knees, coming much closer to him now and leaving him buried deep.
„Fuck, so good!“ you plant your hands on either of his shoulders, cooling down. The A/C continues to release a calm stream of air into the room, which is deeply needed. You can’t believe it’s already happened. Or, how fast it could happen once you asked this way. He gave himself away freely without expectations, Jungkook went along like a champ.
You stay seated this way for a long time. Relaxing. Up until you both have normal breaths, up until your sleep hormones are kicking in. You glide off his dick with Jungkook’s help, him kissing the inside of your thigh while you lift it across his face.
Jungkook insists to stay on the couch, he doesn’t want to move or just come along to the bedroom he’s never been in out of nowhere. He mumbles that he’ll somehow get himself to the bathroom in ten minutes, it’s okay, he doesn’t want aftercare just more to drink. And a little snack from the fridge, maybe.
He cleans you up with love and care, then discards the more than ruined condom that had to endure being soaked from either side, outside, inside. It didn’t rip, but it looks as mushy as it gets. You really fucked the shit out of him. Everything wet and full of lube. Although it looked messy, it didn’t feel like it. Jungkook was effortlessly good in bed and immediately grasped what you wanted. The fully wet condom was a mere testament.
Seeing just how drenched and mixed up everything was, though, Jungkook points to his bag, you pull out a flat paper box.
„Yeah, just to be sure,“ you nod and pop the contents on your tongue, downing the little pill with a bunch of water. Jungkook probably made the cutest babies ever, but your whole stomach was your former first teacher Boa freestyling the absolute madness of an impeccably scaled dragon in every available color that was your lucky charm, so that wasn’t happening.
Where stretch marks would mean a ruptured masterpiece, a whole C-section would give you a thousand years of bad luck for chopping off the dragon’s feet. It would be an aesthetic crime for someone aspiring to perfection, and you wouldn’t want to draw the wrath of Boa for the sake of a kid you had zero time for to begin with.
Come to think of it. Your conservative neighborhood would probably call the cops if they learned about how the eccentric tattoo artist raving about ‚hand poking‘ and homoerotic Greek culture all day had a lovechild with the Doberman chest guy whose main source of income was shaking his ass into a camera.
So — Jungkook himself was more than just prepared. Even if he didn’t look nor act like it, he had his sex life together. Hacks, contraception, technique, hitting perfect pitch on his moans, everything. This guy was a professional in a way that you would tattoo abstract art. You admit to yourself that you tasted blood despite 85% of California men not doing it for you, and that included the majority of model canvasses. Jungkook had something completely unoffensive and pleasing about him. Something intricately submissive that was worth exploring.
Even if he came too early, he didn’t complain about it or give himself a hard time, or get in your way with it. If anything, it let you know that Jungkook liked what you did. You felt complimented that he reached his climax so easily with you, though you have to ask why he wanted to remain in the living room when your bed was much less improvised than the couch.
„Not making it a big deal,“ he says, smiling a little at you. „Nothing much changes. You’re my tattooist.“
And he’s right. He would have slept here if you didn’t fuck. The couch is big and comfortable, anyway.
While you get dressed in the bedroom, you hear him sneak upstairs. Using the tap, and you hear the clothing dryer being switched off.
You’re already tucked in when a little „thank you for todays session 🐰“ text lights up on your phone screen, followed by „and congratulations 🎊“. You reply with a „right back at you“ and call it a day, recounting today’s events in your head with an excited feeling. Good one. You even forgot you actually had a phone. Today felt like the longest 24 hours of this year.
Jungkook gets comfortable with a cold drink on the living room table next to him. Even if he’s not getting the hang of this house yet, that’ll do. He’s closing his eyes at some point. Everything that’s happened feels like it’s locked into his body. Big show, big lights, photoshoots, karaoke, brainstorming for the future. The two of you need some well-deserved rest tonight. He’s not going anywhere, and you’re not going anywhere.
The heat of the summer nights in this part of the town is reliably stable. Still, you left him the shirt in case he still needs it. Yoongi will take care of breakfast before either of you wake up tomorrow, and the kitchen will be clean as day. A nice thought to hold onto, as well as the confetti raining down on stage. And that fact that you just hooked up.
„Rise and shine my queen,“ resounds the upbeat voice of Yoongi. You always twist around under the duvet for a solid minute, then realize every time that it’s just your phone alarm sounding off like that. On a grumpy day, you once told Yoongi to record something that will get you out of bed, and this was the result. By the time you’re waking up, though, your house is all prepared. Yoongi took off for errands already.
After handing Jungkook an illustrative traditional tattoo book from your little house library to get a feel for possible designs, you sit down together. At the kitchen counter-turned-bar-turned-breakfast-table, Jungkook is fresh out the shower in a bathing gown he found nearby. Again — a garment way too short for someone with tempting legs like that.
On him, it’s basically a mini wrap dress. Not to mention the cleavage, where his tattoo is boldly peeking. Crisp edges, deep color, the black consistent. Not to brag, but you want to pat yourself on the shoulder for that job. It looks just as scrumptious as the little buffet that awaits the two of you.
„How’d Yoongi react to the tennis pants on you?“
„No idea,“ Jungkook ruffles his hair, damp and strongly curling. „Probably didn’t even register that it was his clothing at first. I was sleeping anyway when he arrived.“
„Right, he comes in around 5:50,“ you pick up a brimming sandwich, stacked with lettuce, bell pepper, and extra-layered vegan cheese. „You just saw him leave or so, right.“
„We said hi for like ten minutes when I woke up,“ Jungkook gets busy putting cherry jam on a croissant, „and he congratulated us.“
„I sent him a link to the interview we did after the competition.“
Your group chat is just a cat picture, event info, and meme dump at this point, this was one of the more serious entries. You know Yoongi for too long.
„Then I asked if he also got tattoos from you,“ he stirs his tea, and a little smile rises. Of course he had to ask that. Yoongi was plastered in freestyle 3D tattoos and song lyrics. „Then he told the story about how he started working here. So that was hilarious.“
„Abbreviated, though.“
„Abbreviated?“
“Yoongi never tells the full version where he freeloaded getting a portrait of Holly on his underarm. He didn’t have the cash, but we were college friends. I almost fell for the trick when he wanted a matching one for his girlfriend. As an exchange, he was cooking here for a week. I ended up hiring him, he’s really good at those things.“
„I was still so tired, I think I didn’t quite pay attention to the story anyway,“ Jungkook laughs. „After he showed me his knuckle designs up close, I was thinking about how I got my own.“
„Hand tats are different gravy,“ you fill up an empty glass with extra orange juice, one eye still in Jungkook’s cleavage. „Probably ’cause you see ’em all day.“
You think he does notice your gaze tracing his body. But you never know when Jungkook is terribly shy or ready to flirt the house down when he does that one wide-eyed expression.
„And then Yoongi said, I should just put on his stretchy sweatpants from the lowest drawer? I didn’t really know where that was.“
„Oh right, he doesn’t use that drawer anymore. That chapter is closed.“
„Anymore?“
„Yoongi stopped playing golf. He had his shoulder messed up in an accident.“
„Oh no…“
„Five years ago, I think. He got hit by a delivery car a mile up the lane. Never fully recovered.“
„Ouch…“
„So all that golf stuff is unused. Might as well steal a polo shirt and socks from there as well. Down the hallway, last door to the left. I make sure nobody eats your croissant in the meantime.“
He’s giggling. Golf clothes, it is. The morning is significantly cooler, you can feel it in your bones. A welcome refresher.
„Sucks. Sorry about Yoongi’s injury,“ Jungkook gets up, which loosens his belt a little too much. The bathroom gown really is falling apart left and right. You can see his thigh exposed, all the way up to the right hip. Your dear guest tries to hold everything in place shamefully with two hands, then pulls the belt now twice as tight. „Down the hallway, last door, left, correct…?“
„Yup.“
Off he goes with bouncing hair. You browse through the tattoo book while obliterating your sandwich, shifting your brain back into business mode. Shit, why’d he pick that short fucking gown instead of a regular damn towel.
In the assorted picture part of the later chapters, you find some beautiful ornaments that would literally, and you can tell right away, work so well as a frame for his back tat. Some almost naturalistic shapes, and either clouds or wind on top. Maybe even both, most deity figures in the book had several elements surrounding them. A playground for anyone who knows what they’re doing. The sketch was going to be fun to make, and interesting once it came to application.
You already put in an extra hour for Namjoon’s bonsai cover-up. Jungkook’s September appointment would be twice as intricate and dynamic. Because of the sheer overwhelming size, anyway, and Jungkook’s body shape presenting the challenge of tweaking the design’s perspective. Now that you’ve seen him stripped down all the way — maybe you do have a better understanding of him even more so.
You shiver at the thought of an unskilled tattoo artist ruining a beautiful physique like that, especially across such a large area. Thank God Taehyung sent him to you after realizing that ‚suave and fleeting‘ was clearly not what Jungkook was looking and suited for. JK’s first tattoo had been a simple refresh of some letterings on his sleeve, and the heart on his hand. A month later, he was ringing you up again.
„I think you’re the one. I have a shoulder bit that needs a touch-up. And maybe… you have an idea for the right underarm.“
What surprised you, Jungkook has never been the one choosing the tattoos. He quite liberally had you picking it all— and even without his request, you’ve now been coming up with motives to add on.
Laid-back as he is, „you do you, all access“ is all he thinks about that. Jungkook does an impromptu trust fall into your tattooing chair every time. To be honest, you could never. Boa was the only one you’d confide in like that because she knew what your taste was like and had the best technique you knew. When she told you that she’ll be moving to San Francisco and you were ready to open up your own parlor, that your 5-year education was complete, you cried, it was the best and worst day of your life. Maybe, she’ll be hosting at the next convention.
The road to San Francisco was a 6-hour drive, you do see her every other month at least. Hanging out at her own gigantic studio was one of the best things to do on the weekends. But it sometimes feels like she’s missing in presence and advice, still. Hell, you text Boa almost every day. You like all her Instagram posts, she sends you almost every larger tattoo or notable smaller ones she did on clients, so you could study the way she did it.
Just when you ended a session contouring Bam’s ears and eyes and paws, Jungkook once met your former mentor when she dropped by on a Friday evening at BLACKWORKS. Boa was depositing some ink and needles that she didn’t need, and she said well, maybe you could those try out if they work for you. However, she refused to give you any counsel. Boa insisted you had to figure out Jungkook for yourself and own up to that. Knowing her, Boa was always 90% right about the things she said.
So, all else aside, she would be the only person you’d allow making a surprise design on you. But anyone else? You’d tell your tattooist when and how and why to fucking move the needle one split inch to the left and to the right, even if they were tattooing your back and you couldn’t see a thing. In your deepest sleep, you could feel and hear and smell an idiot not filling out a corner properly.
You’d tell them exactly when to switch colors, disinfect their tools on your own, and not allow a single deviation from the stencil. Or else you’d instigate a general lawsuit to shut down their studio, good riddance. And Jungkook was the precise opposite of that.
Switching colors? He didn’t even care about those things. It was all about lying down and letting it happen instead. Taehyung once remarked to you over a very strong coffee: „He’d still think you’re cool if you ruined him entirely“.
The vast majority of your clients would rather give you their idea and you execute it for them. Point blank. Modify it at best. Maybe correct it a lot or give a second choice of the same aesthetic. Say, you’ve had this lady Hyuna come over, she wanted a cute teddy bear, but the area on the leg was better suited for an elongated cotton candy motif, so you both went with that and put the teddy bear on her shoulder blade and her husband got the same one later.
But you never got someone begging for you to decide it all to the last millimeter. Not even the canvases that flirted with seasoned contestants at the show were ready to surrender their skin this way. If someone wanted to kiss their tattooists’ ass? They’d rather spill out the most dramatic speech of praise on their work. At this point, you’re sure Jungkook likes you in a way you don’t yet understand, or never experienced.
Even the most trusting veteran clients of yours wouldn’t act like he would, and even canvasses of absolute genius tattooists would come to the revered maestros with their own suggestions and some big no-gos. Jungkook’s `do what you want, and only you can touch my body´ attitude has almost made even Taehyung’s eyes fall out. And Taehyung’s seen a lot of unhinged clients over the span of his career.  
It was quite obvious to you that he’d be your award show canvas for more than just one gig. He had the kind of enthusiasm and an empty space on his legs and back. His dance background had also given him the gift of even subconsciously presenting himself well in front of crowds because of his posture and way of walking.
In a way, you were almost too happy that Jungkook came back for more now, and he was trusting. You’d reward him with poker straight edges and extra time for creativity. For some reason, you were biased, and that already happened way before you slept together. Jungkook would spend the birthday of his lifetime getting his back tattoo.
While you ponder, there’s some noise from the other side of the house, and he’s returning.
„Did he mean those?“ a little question poses from the entrance of the hallway, and it’s Jungkook standing in the frame all dressed up.
„Sporty!“
„Yeah—“
„Can you still feel your circulation or not?“
„I needed to try several socks until it felt comfortable,“ he giggles, in typical manner, and does a little spin for fun.
Even though you’ve seen Jungkook’s naked back a thousand times in your studio, in fact you know every hair of peach fuzz on it, you’re carefully surveying it now more than ever, painting a tattoo across the bones and muscles with your eyes. Maybe his ass was next in line after the thighs, by the way. You’d run out of conventional space anyway.
„And I always thought Yoongi’s feet were pretty large. Turns out yours are bigger than his?“
„I can’t really explain it either, maybe the socks ended up in the dryer somehow?“
Yoongi really is quite a bit smaller than Jungkook. Formerly just a normal fitting piece, the polo top is pretty much a muscle shirt now. Preppy fashion runway? No, he can make your house look like a gym outfitter. The light-colored pants — it’s obvious he’s not wearing anything underneath. That silly riffled waistband is holding on to dear life. He couldn’t even tie a ribbon with the strings.
„Turn this place into a laundrette, I don’t mind. I’ll leave you in charge of the washing machine next time. Yoongi bought enough fabric softener last Wednesday.“
„I saw! Cotton candy flavor.“
He might as well be a tailor, too. Most of the clothing construction threatens to fall apart at the widest point of his thighs, at least the slender calves fit in these pants. But: It stretches, and he’s got something on.
You drop your empty juice glass into the sink, alongside your plate and sandwich knife. Your wink is far from unsettling to him.
Jungkook doesn’t want to wait until Yoongi returns to take care of the dishes. He also hand-washes his clothing from yesterday in the sink. It’s funny seeing it hang and sway dry outside, but the approaching sunshine heat promises that he’ll be good to go soon enough: With proper underwear.
For the time being, you pour some water into the fridge’s icemaker and give Jungkook a house tour. There’s finally someone you can play table football with. On the first floor, where you arranged your luxury woman cave five thousand. Yoongi could only play the defense with one arm, so you had to rely on random color tattoo clients being down to square up against your national team after a consultation. It was more fun to play with a friend.
Powered by his now-tied ponytail, Jungkook is actually too good to play against, which you notice being five-nil behind. Regardless, you `magically´ recover at seven-nine, right after he whines how a stray lash keeps poking in his eye.
There is no stray lash to be found when you check up close, but you still enjoy looking in his eyes. Jungkook was definitely blessed with some of the most reassuring bambi-like eyes. That deep reflective hazel tone looks better than any pricey brown ink of yours ever could.
Nature, after all, is the best tattooist.
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note. thank you for reading to the end <3 i hope i got you dreaming of back/chest tattoos for jk now 😂 i love this topic, it was really intricate to write and i hope you enjoyed!
© 2017-2022 sugar-petals. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. all depictions are fictional and for entertainment purposes only.
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✮⋆˙ finding the divine in the domestic; mortal gods blurb
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content: greek gods as morals??? ig??? warning: you will cry (hopefully) you will laugh (hopefully) you will feel mushy gushy feelings (hopefully) author's note: this is the most beautiful thing ive ever written...i just...i dont even care if you guys like this one bc i love it...something about the romanticizing of human life from the eyes of people who have never experienced it just...gets me sappy.
the gods, wanting to avoid ending up like their parents, decided to pass the torch to their own children instead of waiting for a usurping to come. let's take a look into their mortal lives now, huh?
zeus and hera got a cookiecutter house in connecticut. its just one of those houses that always looks put together, a perfect wife curled up on the couch with a book waiting for her perfect husband to come home from work. for a while, it was a facade. they fought nearly every night, thundering voices and lightning quick jabs made constantly. but, every night, following another harsh fight, zeus would lay down on the perfect couch. he'd sigh, not completely sure why he fought with her as much as he did. then he'd hear it. the quiet pitter patter of hera's feet against the hardwood. she'd walk up to the couch and, without a word, curl up beside him. zeus always made room for her, his strong arms easily finding waist to keep her from falling off the couch in the night. and in the morning, they'd decide it was time to seek counseling. because the love was there - you could taste in, it hung so strongly in the air - and they both wanted to make it work. and there is no shame in getting a little help.
poseidon made his way to sunny, beautiful, california. he bought a bungalow, right on the beach, naturally. it was hard to find him not on the beach. and when he wasn't there, soaking in the sun or surfing the waves, he was picking up trash or joining waste management teams. he refused to let his son's domain rot away with plastics and trash. he often made his way to visit sally and her husband, becoming that strange uncle that you only see every now and then but is your favorite to estella. but, he was content, paying eight bucks for crappy coffee and giving advise to new surfers. he found peace on those california beaches. and trash. lots and lots of trash. but, he was working on it, chewing out any teens who had the audacity to leave behind any plastic straws or tin cans.
hades and persephone settled down in oregon, a house deep in the foggy woods. it was a modern and striking house but nearly impossible to find. the pair had gotten used to the doom and gloom, not quite ready to embrace the sun. persephone's garden was as large as she wanted, every whim of hers met and fulfilled by her husband. hades found a love for dark and smooth coffee, investing his time and money in a fancy espresso bar. stock, out of view as to not ruin his gloomy aesthetic, was stuffy for persephone's brightly colored margaritas. they'd share these drinks as jazz blared from a record player and hades would spin his darling wife around the living room. and for those of you who found this modern house deep in the trenches of oregon, you'd see a loving husband spinning around his loving wife through a large and impressive window. and you'd believe in love again.
hermes found a comfort in the busy streets of philadelphia. he became a huge sneakerhead, naturally, though he had a bad habit of running holes right through the soles of very valuable and sought shoes. he figured they were meant to be worn though, not hidden inside some glass box. he helped a local post office, helping elderly lady's send packages to their distant children and helping teens write love letters to crushes. he once helped a man with his voicemail, the two writing jokes for hours until they found the perfect one. hermes ran every morning, watching the sun raise on a city that he loved before stopping and finding a park bench. there he'd sit, a batch of warm chocolate chip cookies that always reminded him of the boy he failed and a philly cheesesteak from the shop that would have close down without his business. and on the days in which he missed anyone, he'd leave a voicemail, in hopes they'd just call him back.
athena never stood stagnant again. she bounced all over, never really finding a home to call her own. but she was happy this way, seeing a library in every state or country. finding books in languages she couldn't read but buying them anyways, knowing one day should would be able to read it. she went on loads of museum tours, correcting the poor guides at every opportunity. and while waiting for the next flight or train, she'd talk to strangers. men, women, old, or young, it didn't matter to her. she just wanted to know everything these people were willing to share with her. amir, a suave college boy from utah with a love for beanies, taught athena how to play cat's cradle. adelaide an elderly southern bell from georgia taught athena why she should never pair black and navy blue together. sweet little chloé, a seven year old girl from michigan dressed like a superhero, taught athena how to play pattycake. and she never forget anything these people taught her, the knowledge they shared something she held tight to her chest, it only oozing out when she was questioned by others who simply wanted to learn.
ares got a big house smack-dab in the middle of texas. he liked the biting heat and the numbing cold. he liked the seemingly endless roads that he could ride his bike on, never really knowing when it ended. he liked his guns and he liked picking fights over politics. but his favorite, by far, was the barbeque he could find on every corner. he liked starting bar fights but leaving before he could get caught in them, his bike reeving over the sound of glass smashing against someone's head. but he also liked tending to his neighbor's farm. he liked branding the cows and horses, burning permeant claims on them, the custody of it all. he liked yelling at the sheep to herd them, not even needing to cup his lips to get the desired decimals. he grew fond of the manual labor and the farmers tan. he whole dirty and bloody exchange of caring for a farm, raising pigs and cows for slaughter, riding and training horses that once started out bucking at anything that moved, even the lazy shepherd dog wormed it's way into what could be considered the closest thing ares had to a heart.
hephaestus and aphrodite moved into a house just outside of miami, florida. aphrodite wanted to be close to the buzz of people and hephaestus liked the work ethic of people down there. plus, he wanted his wife to be happy. they compromised, close enough to miami for a weekend trip but far enough away to allow them to relax. he opened up a shop of his own, his fingers itching to work, and she was more than happy to accompany him in this business endeavor. while hephaestus chatted up men about their cars, aphrodite would drag their lovers away into her office and gossip over glistening pink teas and scones. she'd been more than happy to help with paper work, filing their taxes in a glittery pink gel pen and signing away on checks with a metallic purple one. she'd always packed lunches for the two, sweet love letters written on pink post it notes shoved on top, the first thing he'd see. and he made sure the house was exactly what she wanted. if she off handedly mentioned she didn't like the color of the bathroom anymore, he'd be changing it within seconds. even if he just painted it the day before, he didn't care. his favorite passion projects were whatever her whims requested of him, each one he devoted himself to fully, even if he did have to change it in a week because sage green is apparently out now.
demeter got a condo in boston. she paid extra for a balcony, which she could barely walk out onto anymore as the plants she had were overflowing the place. she could see the boston commons from her condo, where she'd always pull a chair out onto the compact balcony with her iced tea and people watch. she chatted with people who passed under her balcony, waving warming as they raced off to their jobs or their classes. sometimes, when they had no where to be and nothing but time on their hands, she'd buzz them up. by the time they reached her door, there was already another chair set up and a steaming cup of tea just waiting for them. and she'd share stories, personal anecdotes hidden behind plant puns and her siblings names switched out for foliage. zeus turned into aster, poseidon to cypress, and hades to elm. she talked fondly of her family, secrets hidden behind the lip of her mug. and then she was waving the no longer strangers out of her door, leaning over her balcony as they left, beaming a smile and waving her hand like a flower bursting out of the snow at the end of winter.
apollo moved far out to san diego. he found comfort in one night stands, something about warm skin pressed against warm skin. he tested and trailed but never settled. walk of shames didn't exist to him, those were just a regular walk. and he was having fun, which is all he cared about. he'd return to his apartment, which was cloaked in sunlight and cozy vibes. he'd pet the tabby cat that moved in without his permission and serve himself a breakfast of avocado toast, thinking of the boy he'd met at the cafe a few weeks ago. and while he poured his steaming coffee, he thought of the girl he bought groceries for after her card declined and they way she hugged him so tightly and warmly, thanking him with a kiss to his cheek. and as he curled up on his couch to eat, he called his twin sister, just to tell her he loved her and nothing more. she didn't pick up, surely asleep even though it was 9 in the morning, but she'd always been a night owl. without leaving a voicemail, apollo abandoned his meal and his cat, swiping up his keys and desperately running out of his house, determined to make it to his sisters place before she awoke. he just wanted to beam a smile at her and give her a warm hug and be spontaneously him.
artemis lived in colorado...sometimes. she moved around a lot, too. often she could be found slumming it at her brother's apartment, as he wasn't there very much in the night time. she'd found a deep comfort in speakeasies and dive bars, nothing filling her quite as much as an overpriced and crappy burger. the woods were another source of comfort and there she found a love for snowboarding. the racing down the snowy peaks and blurring of the deep green trees giving her a rush that only life-risking sports could do. she liked the clink and clank of her silver rings against each other, each finger have at least one, but probably more than one, except for her ring finger. that one she proudly left bare, not in wait, but simply because she was above that. she'd tried it, the kissing and the sharing of skin, and decided it just wasn't for her. her twin brother would always joke that now there was more for him and they'd laugh, finding it amusing in the way only siblings can.
god, doesn't just stun you how lucky we are to live a life?
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Lore: Baldur's Gate #1
Link: Disclaimer regarding D&D "canon" & Index [tldr: D&D lore is a giant conflicting mess. Larian's lore is also a conflicting mess. You learn to take what you want and leave the rest]
The City #1 | The City #2 | Administration & Government | ??? - WIP
Might as well start compiling lore on the namesake of the game...
Featuring the city aesthetic (the depiction of it in-game wasn't nearly grey, damp or claustrophobic enough) and a mostly complete overview of the city and its major areas: the Lower City, Upper City, Outer City, Undercellar and Undercity.
Cultural titbits: like why you can't have animals bigger than peacocks; that you shouldn't live here if you have claustrophobia; how the Patriars clearly have it out for people with hay fever; the constant mould problem; where to go to get a glowing tattoo, a fake tan and the magical equivalent of a plastic surgeon; and why, in fairness to the Banites, the city requires very little effort to turn into a nightmarish police state under the control of an evil deity.
And if your Dark Urge is a sewer gremlin then that's a life choice they're making, not a Bhaalist thing: the Undercity isn't in the sewers.
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The city state of Baldur's Gate is one of Faerûn's more important ports, situated geographically between the massive trade centres of Athkatla and Waterdeep. It began its life as a fusion of the early fishing hamlet of Loklee (formed around 0 DR) and the pirate and smuggler hub that formed nearby. It was a popular port with a shipyard and visitor's wharves by 204 DR. The natural harbour the man-made harbour is built on is one of the only places in hundreds of miles that's safe for ships to dock at.
Due to the lack of nearby settlements to form competition, the trade hub attained city status and import early in its existence. It briefly fell under the early kingdom of Shavinar, though this was mostly a technicality and the settlement continued to govern itself and continued to do so when the kingdom fell in 277 DR.
The area was first officially recognised in the history books as the city of of Baldur's Gate in 446 DR.
The primary spoken language of the Gate is Chondathan, however during the Spellplague the city attracted enough refugees to become one of Faerûn's most populated cities, and it's a diverse enough location that many people are at least bilingual (not counting Common): many speak Chondathan, their native/ancestral language and a third.
As a major port the city has always been something of a melting pot and encouraged a policy of tolerance - you don't want to drive away merchants and trade, after all. Likewise, in the interests of encouraging trade, the city has enforced a stance of political neutrality and refuses to be drawn into international problems.
Officially, the city prides itself on being welcoming to all ways of life, to the point where anyone and anything goes as long as they obey the laws and don't rock the boat; even the open worship of the majority evil gods is completely unremarkable - what if you want to trade with a place where those gods are a major religion, after all? While Umberlee is worshipped everywhere near the sea (under threat of tidal waves and drowning in retribution for not worshipping her), Baldur's Gate is one of the few places she has an actual temple.
A shrine to any god - regardless of what their faith does or preaches - can be established in any of the temple districts for public worship, and the law will pay it no mind.
This reputation for tolerance and neutrality means it tends to be one of the first choices for refugees and immigrants looking for a new start. The city is extremely crowded, with many people packed into tight spaces and narrow streets, and its population numbers surpassed the metropolis of Waterdeep decades ago; standing at 42,103 people in the 14th century, it has likely more than doubled since. Visitors often find it incredibly - possibly intolerably - loud and busy, while locals consider them to be backwater farmers who don't know what civilisation looks like.
While the city doesn't discriminate legally against any groups, its reputation for tolerance is somewhat overexaggerated. Peoples who are viewed as monstrous by the Realms at large, such as orcs and other goblinoids, or drow, can expect to feel unwelcome as with everywhere else. The recent wave of unwanted human refugees from Calimshan have a strained relationship with the established Baldurians, who view them as foreign and wish they'd just assimilate and start speaking Chondathan already. The city is a human settlement by culture and demographics, retaining its historical human majority, and while the demihuman minorities are part of mundane everyday life, there have been incidents such as in the early 14th century, which saw the rise of The Sure Helm: a human supremacy group who had an issue with the non-humans in their society and were known to carry out hate crimes on the likes of half-elves and half-orcs if they thought they could get away with it.
On a slightly saner note: you have the freedom of religion to worship a god who demands slaves and blood sacrifice, but it's a bad idea to advertise that... Or get caught slaving and murdering, unless you're a very high ranking priest.
--
Local bards tend to refer to the city as the Cresent moon in their lyrics and poems, after the shape of the city layout. The musical traditions of the Gate focus on "brassy-voiced tenors" and "delightfully smoky altos".
Baldurians frown on drunk, debauched and disorderly behaviour in public: there's no space for this nonsense and you're keeping everybody on the street awake.
The gate has an array of cosmetic services available in the markets of the Wide, where - as well as mundane tattooists and piercers - one can hire wizards in the market to perform cosmetic alterations with transmutation magic: glowing tattoos and other strange illusions, tans, magically affixing gems and jewellery like pieces to your body, changing hair colour, texture and style, changing your eye colour, altering your height or your weight or your sexual dimorphism, etc etc.
It's considered bad luck to harm a cat. Many of the animals moved into the area by hitching a ride on sea traffic, and as they're extremely useful for keeping vermin down both on land and at sea, Baldurians are fond of them.
If you need help carrying your shopping or finding somewhere in the city, most street corners have youths known as "lamp boys" and "lamp lasses" you can hire - so called because of the lanterns they carry at night. With the founding of the newspaper you can also find them hawking the daily papers.
The trade the city brings is the lifeline of the Sword Coast (South), and the only place one can buy foreign and luxury goods in the entire region. That said, these goods come at a significant mark up compared to the prices you'd find in Waterdeep or anywhere in Amn.
The majority of silver trade bars (bars of metal used in place of coins, for ease of transport) are made in the Gate, and the city sets the standards for this form of currency.
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The city has always been heavily policed, and is known for being quiet and one of the safest cities in Western Faerûn; Baldurians don't expect much if any major disruption to the city's day-to-day life.
The city has its own City Watch - member of the watch being readily identified by their black helms, bearing a red stripe down one side - however the Flaming Fist Mercenary Company is the first thing that comes to mind when you mention law enforcement; you can barely go more than an hour without seeing at least one uniformed officer.
The City Watch used to be the city's police force, however by the end of the 15th century the Fist has taken on much of their role, and the Watch now functions purely as the private law keepers of the Upper City. They are permitted to live within the Upper City, and positions in the watch are now mostly hereditary.
Even when the Watch was the official city police the Fist boasted an army a thousand strong. By the start of the 15th century the Fist had taken over city patrols in a semi-official capacity. The two groups also overlap, and many of the Watch are also secretly members of the Fist. One in ten people in the gate - Watch or otherwise - are spies and informants for the mercenary company.
They may not be fully reliable as a police force however, as they are known to chose not to deal with some problems, declaring it a problem for the watch to deal with. Notably they do not police the Outer City and refuse to touch anything involving the Undercellar.
The Flaming Fist also has outposts in other realms, where it guards the foreign trade interests of the city, such as Fort Beluarian (a hamlet of 313 people) in the jungles of Chult on the Southern end of Faerûn. Being mercenaries, they are available for hire for any purpose that isn't considered flat out evil.
Of course the heavy policing and massive police presence, to anybody who cares to look closer at the city's outward appearance of security, is a giant tip-off that the city has a thriving underworld. The Thieves Guild is an ever-present force, and the religious tolerance means that there are a lot of other organised crime syndicates (ie the priests), murderers and extortion rackets running around. Such organisations keep close diplomatic ties to the Grand Dukes and the commander of the Flaming Fist.
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The weather conditions are typically rain, sleet or fog depending on season and time of day, and the streets and buildings are almost constantly wet either from the weather or the sea. The architecture is almost entirely stone, as it's less likely to rot. The streets are often slippery, and straw or gravel from the river is sometimes thrown over the cobbles for grip. The citizens take advantage of the moisture and damp to use their cellars to cultivate edible fungi. Damp, mould and mildew are a common menace, but it did lead a wizard named Halbazzer Drin to make his fortune by inventing spells that banishes mildew (12gp per casting) and dry out an area without damaging anything (10gp), so services exist if you need to hire them. The spell is not known outside of the city; Drin refused to sell knowledge of the spell to anyone for any price or offer. Due to the damp, the streets have no banners or other hanging fabrics around.
Buildings tend to be tall and narrow, with shuttered slit windows placed high up, which will be firmly shut at night and all day in winter, to keep out the gales and invading gulls looking for places to nest. The extremely narrow streets of the Lower City are full of window planters and hanging baskets of flowers, providing the sole spot of colour amongst the grey. As the city streets are so steep and narrow, the city has a ban on allowing animals larger than a dog into the city (it's too difficult for them to navigate and likely to cause traffic issues).
Boxed in by its thick, heavily fortified city walls and with no space to expand the city has largely built upwards, and the streets are filled with stone buttresses and arches supporting the upper floors.
Due to its stony architecture and frequent overcast, the entire city is often referred to as the Grey Harbour by residents. (This is also the name of the actual city harbour)
The city is built into the chalk white cliffs around the harbour, growing in elevation until the settlement stops at the outermost walls.
By the 15th century, the city was firmly divided into the Lower and Upper Cities, the latter of which is built into the highest elevation, cut off by a wall. In the population boom that followed the mass immigration of Spellplague refugees, many people were forced to make space for themselves outside of the walls, building the Outer City. Beneath the city lies the Undercellar
Descending from the Undercellar is a labyrinth of tunnels leading down into caverns buried beneath Baldur's Gate; housing the ruins of a forgotten era, where the Temple of Bhaal stands over the ruins, surrounded by the restless spirits and walking corpses of undead residents ancient and brand new.
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The Lower City houses most of the city, crafts and trade.
With the narrow spaces, cliffs, tall buildings and arches, the city can get rather dark at night. What public lighting is available is maintained by the citizens themselves. The wealthier parts of the Lower City, like Bloomridge, use oil and wick copper bowls, while poorer areas make do with candles in tin lanterns, usually such things are mounted on the walls and ceilings of the darkest corners; but when you want to navigate at night you'll usually be hiring lamp lads.
The Grey Harbour is one of Toril's most famous and best ports, frequented by legitimate merchant captains and pirates alike; many of the families living on the docks are the families of sailors. The area is very industrialised, sporting the shipyard, multiple cranes and railway tracks used to facilitate the moving of goods. The most notable structures are the Harbourmaster's Office, a tiny building with barred windows that deals with all trades and taxes - and the Water Queen's House at the end of the pier, which everybody with a brain makes offerings to and nobody looks too closely at whatever the Umberlant priests get up to in there, because the vast majority of people like breathing.
The Gate has little in the way of large fanciful festivals, but specific streets in the Lower City are prone to a centuries old tradition of "cobble parties", where the people living on a street pull up some chairs, benches and barrels and gather outside to share a mild drink, tell stories and chat. An ongoing cobble party can be recognised by the bright rose-red torches that are hung up along the street walls - these torches are made at Felogyr's Fireworks and can be bought almost anywhere in the city.
Bloomridge is as close the Upper City as you can get without actually gaining access, and houses the Gate's middle class. It was initially built in elevated platforms cimbing up the Upper City's walls using magic and Gondian engineering. It's various attractions - including fanciful architecture, florists, artisanal boutiques, fancy open-air kaeth houses (cafes) and dining houses (restaurants; also known as "skaethars" or "feasthalls"), and elaborate hanging gardens and floral arcades - made it attractive to those with wealth but no pedigree.
The district expanded as those who could afford to do so began purchasing and razing the original, less fancy buildings in the vicinity and building estates on the ground where they used to stand. Those who can't quite afford that instead opt to live in high class apartment buildings and flats over the local businesses. Buildings here often have rooftop gardens and balconies with pleasant vistas.
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The Upper City is located in the oldest quarter of the city, the Lower City being built outside of the walls and stretching down to the harbour and then having the lower city walls constructed around it. The only gate connecting the two halves is the eponymous Baldur's Gate, the first of the many city gates constructed. It's also heavily guarded and the only gate by which outsiders may access the Upper City; there are numerous smaller gates, but they are exclusively used by patriars and those bearing family livery or bearing a letter of employment signed by a patriar. This district houses the Gate's oldest and most powerful families: anyone who isn't a patriar is either a servant or a watchman, who will most likely be a member of a family that has served a patriar family/the Upper City for generations. The exceptions tend to be a handful of the most successful and affluent business owners whose businesses have become popular enough with the nobility to be welcomed in. Every business and city service in this district exists to serve the upper class exclusively.
It's the most open and colourful part of the city; the shutters and doors are painted in fresh, vibrant paints. The streets are broad and well lit with ornate enchanted lamps; the terrain is mostly flat, unlike the streets of the Lower City, which can often resemble giant staircases.
Businesses that would cause unpleasant smells are banned from the area, and the Upper City maintains many gardens, windowsill planters and trellises where flowers bloom and fill the air with pleasant scents (unless you have hay fever, anyway). Wandering minstrels provide ambient music as they wander the streets - usually a singer playing a lute or harp accompanied by a flutist and perhaps a drummer who may provide a chorus.
They've also got drains, so the streets are less inclined to flood or turn to mud the way the rest of the city is.
There are no inns or alehouses here: a noble who wishes to drink will either host a party, attend a private club, or go slumming in the Lower City.
The Upper City houses the High Hall, also known as the ducal palace; the administrative building that provides a place for feasts, court hearings and government meetings. The meeting rooms are and have always been open for public use, however there is a rule that states you cannot rent a meeting room there twice within 48 hours (to stop people from monopolising the rooms). The High Hall used to be a more grim, military building but has since been renovated to appear more bright and friendly as a PR stunt following a giant riot over taxes.
The other two of the city's temples are located in the Upper City, the Lady's Hall - a Temple of Tymora - and the High House of Wonders, the temple of Gond (who is near enough the city's patron god). The building serves various purposes: a temple, workshops, factories and laboratories. When something deemed ready for the eye is released it can usually be viewed in the Hall of Wonders: a science museum across the street to the temple.
It's also where the Gate's largest marker - the Wide - is situated. It's the only large open space in the city, and the only open air market. Outside of festivals, performances and music is banned in the area. The Wide is usually packed with people forced to stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and those who are hired to perform deliveries in the Wide are always tall and large, capable of seeing over the heads of the throngs and pushing their way through. Goods are carried atop tall poles that are strapped to the deliverymen's chests or backs. Prices are lowest in the Wide compared to anywhere else, and any transactions that cannot be performed within a licensed store must take place here by law.
Permits to rent space in the Wide for the day are limited, and they usually go to whoever has the money to bribe the bailiff, watchmen and other officials who have sway in over the market's administration - which is usually the merchants of the Upper City.
As well as the usual fare of goods, the Wide offers a large range of cosmetic services including the mundane body modifications and stylists that one would find on Earth, and more esoteric concepts that can only be accomplished with magic; such services and the artisans who provide them are seasonal and ever changing. The Wide is the most colourful spot in the city, and the only place that's the exception to the lack of banners and other hanging fabrics. Historically the Wide was open all day and night, but in recent times the watch has been closing the area at dusk - nobody except for the patriars may have use of the Upper City after dark.
The Wide is only closed if the area must be used for something else, such as public Highharvestide festivals... or because a patriar decided to close it off for private use, such as a ball or wedding.
Just outside of the market area is the rest of the Upper City's commercial area; stores, insurance offices, trade guildhalls, Ramazith's tower and the public entrance to the Undercellar - a flight of stone stairs leading down to a pair of heavy oak doors at the southern edge of the market. The doors are shut, but the Undercellar never closes and if you knock somebody will open them and usher you inside.
-
The Undercellar is a maze of underground passages lying beneath the city - mostly vaulted stone chambers created from the interconnected and abandoned cellars of the old Upper City, with hidden exits all over the city. Those who know where these exits are tend to guard them jealously, but may be willing to allow the Thieves' Guild access for coin or service. The Guild itself controls a fair few of these exits, and has been working on expanding the network.
It's also the playground for the criminal underworld of the Gate. The Undercellar's public image is that of a rather unprincipled festhall (a specific form of adult entertainment venue in the Realms that serves as a fusion of casino, bar, lounge, spa, brothel, playground, BDSM scene, LARPing club and so forth), which in a way, it is. Due to its dangerous reputation, it's incredibly popular, especially with those who are trying to look edgy and dangerous (particularly teenagers).
If one is openly carrying weapons, you can expect the armed guards stationed in the room to start following you closely; otherwise they'll leave you be. The guards are unlikely to care much about any disturbances, so long as they don't start disrupting everybody's business. Customers are not to venture further into the Undercellar without permission and an escort.
And behind that edgy, but mostly harmless veneer visitors play at and never see past is the real Undercellar, which is every bit as dark as its rumoured to be.
The Guild has its offices down here, and other rooms are used for varying purposes by other criminals. Want to put a hit on somebody, watch somebody get murdered in a Bhaalist red room, smuggle people or whatever crimes against humanity you feel like seeking out, this'd be the place to do it.
The Undercellar is policed by nobody except the criminals who do their work down there; whatever might take place down there, neither the Watch nor the Fists have any desire to know about them if you try and bring them to light. Want to avoid bad things? Don't get involved with the Undercellar.
The sprawling, pitch-black maze - if one knows how to navigate it - is a good way to get around the Upper City without detection. Somewhere down there is a passage that goes deeper, leading further into the earth and into the Undercity.
The Undercity is, clue in the name, the dead remains of a city buried beneath the living Baldur's Gate (specifically the original city that became the Upper City). At its heart is the Temple of Bhaal, and the city is inhabited by Bhaalists, alive and dead; the original, now undead, inhabitants of the undercity and any victims of the temple that have joined them.
-
The Outer City, Cliffgate and Blackgate are not technically parts of the city, being constructed outside of them.
The soil surrounding the city is little use for agriculture, but it is sufficient for grazing, so most farmers are the likes of shepherds and cattle farmers. As livestock and large animals are not permitted inside the city, cattle markets, stables and such businesses will be found there. Many of the less pleasant businesses, such as butchers and tanners, have relocated here to spare the rest of the city the smell and mess.
Much of the structures are semi-permanent in nature, and the areas are not subject to official oversight or in possession of any particular infrastructure. They aren't policed by the Fist or the watch, the area is near enough lawless, and crime is frequent. "Security" tends to be overseen by the Guild, and while the government doesn't tax outside the walls, residents still have to pay their dues to the local thieves and thugs.
The Outer City is as crowded as the Lower City, but less sanitary or orderly: these places are dirty, loud, smell a lot and tend to be quite dangerous. Many of the residents are farmers, criminals and foreigners and immigrants of varying generation who can't afford or find a place in the city proper.
The Blackgate is the historical slum area, and grew around the inland-facing Black Gate to the North West, growing around the Trade Way connecting The Gate to Waterdeep.
The Tumbledown district, located in Cliffgate outside the city gate of the same name, is the middle child of the expansions, leading down the cliffs. The land was owned by the Szarr family generations ago, before they were all (supposedly) slaughtered by a rival family in the night. Tumbledown is an extremely foggy area, full of graveyards and tombs, and rumours abound that the ghosts of the dead Szarrs haunt the streets there and steal people away. People do disappear there, but most people are sceptical that it's due to ghosts.
The Outer City is a newer, larger slum that grew around the Basilisk Gate and spread along the Coast Way - the road between the Gate and Athkatla - as the city population exploded at the end of the 14th century.
Immigrant communities have taken the opportunity to build their own settlements in the Outer City, styled in their own architectural styles, such as Little Calimshan; a tenement on Wyrm's Crossing is exclusively occupied by halflings; Whitkeep houses a gnomish community who does most of the city's tinsmithing; half-orcs lodge in Stoneyes; a shield dwarven community is located in Shieldgate.
These communities are considered outsiders by most Baldurians, and generally there's no love lost between those inside the walls and outside.
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dreamauri · 8 months
Note
Make a max Dom fic X fem driver
Or Oscar Dom fic X female driver
No. 🖕👍 Have a soft sub Lando instead <3🤌 I'll add the rest of the aesthetics and tag list later
‧˚⊹ surprise surprise ଓ :: LN4 ‧₊˚⤾
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╭╯ pairing . . . lando norris x girlfriend! reader ) ┊ summary . . . lando surprises you and you surprise him ) ┊ genre . . . fluff) ╰╮ warning . . . X )
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( masterlist ) ( requests ) ( taglist )
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"Wait . . . Why are we at 3.5k views?" You glanced through the controls and the chat confused. "What am I missing? What's going on?"
"6k viwes, what the fuck." You scrunched at your monitor to make sure you were reading it right. "I must be blind. Or it's glitchy." You kicked the PC next to your feet, pulling laughter emojis from your chat as you folded your arms. "What's going on?"
"Wait . . . Why are we at 3.5k views?" You glanced through the controls and the chat confused. "What am I missing? What's going on?"
NO BODY TELL HER
everyone shut
we can't tell you
keep streaming y/n
nothinggggggg 😅
". . ." You glanced between your camera and speed chat pursing your lips. "Who ever tells me what's going on gets a kiss and paddock passes."
EVERYONE SHUT TF UP
But kisses noooo
i heard paddock passes
no body tell hereveryone zip your lips
if you guys ruin this I will run after you with a nife
I WANT KISSES FROM YOU Y/N
shouldn't we tell her?
nuh uh
"Oh my fucking-" Ba-ding! You narrowed your eyes at the notification on your phone, pulling your reading glasses from your pocket to read the alert.
"Holy-" You watched the footage of some man's back entering your back yard. Black hoodie, and pants? No face and black beanie? Yeah you might as well be dead. "Everyone shut." You whisper shouted, flicking the light switch off.
Detaching the camera from the plastic rod, you held it as a weapon, standing behind the closed door. Your stream that you were to panicked to turn off right now was watching you sideways, speed chat buzzing.
oh he's dead
shit
SOMEONE TELL HIM
Y/N NO
we'll miss him
CAREFULL Y/N CAREFUL WITH THAT
"I think Sugar's stream room is this one-" You didn't hesitate to swing once you saw the head, breaking your camera rod on the man's head. "HEY! OW!"
You watched Lando drop on his side gripping his head. You could feel yourself frown and and scrunch your nose. "Are you an evil clone? Or his evil twin brother?! IDENTITY YOURSELF!"
"GIRL!" The British man-boy tried to swat your side only for you to kick his arm away and take a step back. "Y/N, it's me!" "Who the fuck is me?! Who are you?!"
Your self defense lessons came in handy for the next few minutes.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"Now I'm going to be bruised up for a few days." Lando huffed to screen, wincing as you placed an ice pack to his head. "I'm blaming this on you, chat. You should've told her."
"You should've told me." You scoffed, smacking his shoulder lightly. "I know, baby. I wanted to keep it a surprise." He pouted. You narrowed your eyes at him. "In black on black? Dressing like a murderer? Lan, knocking on my front door would've been fine."
You got on your knees beside him so you were head level. Lando pressed his nose in your cheek, trying to crack a smile from you. You pouted, looking at the camera ( now balancing atop your monitor ).
"I'm sorry." He pressed a kiss to your cheek, pulling you in his arms. "No." You denied his apology trying to pull yourself out of his embrace. "I'm soryyyy. Please, sugar. Never again, I promise."
He peppered your cheek with kisses, transforming your pout to a smile. "I-" kiss "I love you, sunshine."
jealousy jealousy
my parents
I DONT KNOW WHICH ONE I WANT TO BE RN
LANDO SWITCH PLACES WITH ME
y/n's smile 🥴
Alexa play room of reflections
mama y papa. mama. y papa.
we wish our favorite driver a fast recovery after this accident. We love you, Y/N. Get well soon.
"Haha very funny." Lando fake laughed, pointing at that last comment. You gently slipped out of Lando's arms, who only pouted holding your hands like a lost puppy.
"I'll get you a chair, don't do anything stupid." You hopped on your feet, leaning down and pressing a kiss on Lando's head ( who was wiggling his eyebrows at the camera in victory). "I got the best girl in history." He murmured watching you go.
"Now. Serious talk time." Lando intertwined his hands, looking deep in the camera lens. "Y/N's birthday is soon and I want you all in on a prank. I wanted to blindfold her and take her to rise swan ferries but Max said-" you opened the door, dragging the wooden chair behind you. "Max said, you can't eat 17 spring rolls. And that's not normal. But who does he think he is? Honestly."
Lando quickly changed the conversation, smoothly getting away with it like the criminal he was. He looked up at you while you set the white chair beside your gamer chair. "Is this for me?" He smiled going to sit on it instead of standing on his knees.
"No-" You pushed him away from his face, making fall back and sit on your gamer chair. "This house does not tolerate flat assed Landos Norrises." "You're the one who's going to flatten your ass sitting on that chair." He laughed trying to pull you close.
"Lando enough gangster shit. I was in the middle if my stream." You scolded smacking his hand away making his pout. "Actually since we have almost 15k views now, I'd like to take a moment and discuss with you all about how bad Landob is in bed—" "—Y/N!" He cut you off covering your mouth panicked. You looked at him from a few seconds quietly till he hesitantly removed his hand.
". . . He's a sub and finishes in 3 minutes!" You said quickly only to be tackled to the ground. You were laughing while Lando mumbled incoherent words to you at the speed of light, face flushed red in embarrassment.
★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
"And just so you know, user5896370 I can fuck my girl. Y/N was joking." Lando pointed amusingly at the comment, looking at the screen angrily while you covered your face laughing.
You pulled him back up on the chair a few minutes ago and he condemned you to sitting on his lap for "accusations. false accusations". You were trying to teach your original viewers the knitting patterns you were using for the exclusive plushies you were selling on your store.
Lando wrapped his arms around your waist watching you make the little turtle. He couldn't help but admire your concentration and love for the hobby as you explained your tricks and advice, answering a few questions here and there.
"Since Lan's here, I might try making his McLaren. I always wanted to try that." That caught his full attention. He leaned his chin on his shoulder, watching you assemble a mini orange formula one car with the number four on the sides.
He could help but press the occasional kisses to your cheek, pulling you further up in his lap. "I never thought I'd be jealous of a bunch of strings." You laughed, snuggling in his back a little more roughly. "Y/N!" He whined shaking you sideways making you laugh harder.
"You're evil." He pulled you to face him, your smile facing his frown. "You love me." You whispered sweetly, pecking his lips. "You are one mean-" "Okay!" You claped your hands together, cutting off the now angry Lando.
"Lando is being a baby and I have to treat him like the three-year-old he is." You leaned forward of the table waving good bye. "Hehe." You turned around, straddling your boyfriend's lap once the stream ended, wriggling on his hard on.
He gripped you waist tightly, grinding you on his boner as he continued to glare at you. "I'm sorry, baby." You tilted your head leaning your forehead on his. Your hand trailed down to his twitching tent, unzipping his pants and releaving the tightness.
"I'll give you a reward." You offered kissing his cheek softly, trailing gentle kisses down his jaw and neck as if he was a fragile Greek statue, successfully pulling a hum from his throat.
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( taglist ↳ @lorarri @benedikwonn @mycenterfold @ironmaiden1313 @iamahallucinationn @hockeyboysarehot @tsnataly @iloveyou3000morgan @lpab @jetless @inas-thing @folklorelvrr @fdl305 @lifesuckslife @loveofmylife12 @chasing-liberosis @peachiicherries @ferrariloverr @love4lando @stewel92 @screemqueen @lizzieolseniskinda @chelseyyouraverageluigi @michellekstyles @bibissparkles @copper-boom @ferraribabe @ssararuffoni @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @topguncultleader @sheslikeacurse @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nellxsies @ru-kru @stvrlec16 @janeholt3 @boherahpsody @styles-sunflower @luciaexcorvus @hornedravenclaws @lazybot @vellicora @jasminesacademia
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onyv · 3 months
Text
ART NOUVEAU
Art Nouveau appears at the end of the 19th century and spreads widely across Europe and the United States. It draws inspiration from the Japanese, Oriental, Byzantine and Celtic arts as well as Impressionism.                                                      The peculiarities of the style are highlighted decoration and strong interest in the ornament and curve line. Stylised floral motifs and human images combined with asymmetric compositions are used. The emotional suggestions that are inherent in style are: refinement, elegancy, spirituality, variability, expressiveness, romance, love, tenderness, nostalgia, dreaminess.
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Origin of Art Nouveau. 
On the one hand, it is the English Arts and Crafts movement from the middle of the nineteenth century and headed by William Morris. The basis of this movement is Morris's idea of affirming the value of handmade handicrafts against the industrial products. His followers replace cheap mass production with quality handmade items. They stem from the beauty of natural forms, the tradition of old medieval styles and folklore.
On the other hand, the ideas of Art Nouveau are also based on the works of Augustus Pugin, who seeks reforming society through the plastic forms of Gothic, which he considers to be the bearer of Christian values.The artists and designers of the 1990s developed the ideas of Puigin and Morris and enriched them with new forms and materials. This also determines the aesthetic basis of the new style. The materials used for everyday use are very high quality.
It has been assumed that all forms of plastic visualisation are equally valuable (until this moment it is believed that such activities are under the artist's dignity.) 
The essence of Art Nouveau is that the art shape is particularly important, it is even more important than the content and even the most prosaic content can be represented in a highly artistic shape.
Another important aesthetic feature is the appearance of the female figure. Portraits of women are common in this style. The most common image is just a woman as a center of composition, in the way that the figure is an integral part of the ornament in the whole.
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The art of posters is also developing in Paris.The emblem of this art becomes Alphonse Mucha. He designs theatrical posters and settings, but also made designs multiple packaging and patterns for mass consumption. Frequently used in them are stylised images of women whose long hair has been turned into complex decorative ornaments.
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Like many of his peers Toulouse Lautrec follows the principles of Japanese engraving, which is based on the flat construction of the shapes, the exaggerated facial expressions and the strong theatrical compositions. The objects of his inspiration are dancers, actresses, singers, courtesans. He works a lot in the field of poster and advertising, raising this genre to the level of real art.
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Gustav Klimt is the leading figure of the Vienna Secession. His works are very decorative and filled with erotism. Again, the woman is his main inspiration and is elevated to a cult.
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In conclusion, Art Nouveau is one of the last attempts to create a common style in plastic arts, architecture, interior and furniture design, poster, book design, and more.
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The aim of the architect, the artist, the designer is the creation of a synthetically complete work of art that enters the private life of man through the items that surrounds him. That's why this style is cosmopolitan.
As far as Art Nouveau artists and designers are concerned, it can be said that they develop and enrich the ideas of Pugin and Morris, and because of everything listed above we can define their work as a top-class art.
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iceman-soup · 3 months
Note
request!
sorry if you've done this already, but what would Ghost and Soap's first leave together look like? could be sfw or nsfw, everything is up to you
yes yes yesss this is sfw because my descriptive brain took over, also autistic ghost supremacy 🫶🫶
ghost x soap
Simon wasn't ready to meet Johnny's family yet. Hell, they'd only been dating five or so months before deciding to stick with each other on leave, and by that point it was far too stressful and overwhelming to think about meeting a whole bunch of new people to mask around and make good impressions. Ghost needed the time off to re-regulate, and honestly, Soap wasn't up to introducing a boyfriend he had barely warned his mother about beforehand.
So instead the two taxi'd over to Manchester from the airport, arriving at a tiny, cheap flat with even cheaper security cameras dotted on each outside wall and above the front door. "Enough of a deterrent, even if half don't work," explains Simon, seeing Johnny looking around curiously. He unlocks the door and pushes it open an inch, baited breath for a couple of moments as he appears to listen for anything unusual, before opening the door properly, flicking on the warm overhead lights and pulling Soap in by the hand, who gazes at the inside of his flat whilst Ghost locks the door again.
"Dinnae take you for an interior designer, Lt," John grins, glancing at the taller man before going back to admiring the space. It's dusty, sure, but otherwise not quite as awful as expected, and although cramped, holds a feeling of comfort and rest. The two are standing in the kitchen, cupboards naked oak wood and counters hand-painted daffodil yellow, the honey-coloured floor tiles chipped but superglued back together. The image of Si sitting cross-legged on the ground fixing them fills Soap's mind, his heart fluttering at how domestic his lieutenant suddenly seems.
There isn't a wall between the kitchen and living room, and Johnny takes that opportunity to wonder straight through, taking note of a comfy-looking secondhand sofa to cuddle up on together later. An old TV with a jumble of cables is stood upon a coffee table, which simultaneously doubles as an actual coffee table, evident by a few mismatched coasters with just as many water marks as the surface they're supposed to be protecting. Splintering wood in the tried-to-be-aesthetic bare floorboards are covered by a granny rug which contrasts the baby blue walls surprisingly well. Two doors lead off from the living room, and Ghost walks over to the first one, opening it to show the other.
"Bathroom," he comments as if it isn't obvious. There's nothing extraordinary about it, but Soap does notice his unwavering loyalty here and on base to his very specific shower products - of course. He nods and they move on, entering the fourth room. Si hovers at the doorway whilst Johnny wanders inside, taking in the bedroom.
Most of the space is taken up by a double bed pressed up in the far corner, white paint on the metal frame missing in spots, showing its age. The bedding is black with little bone prints patterning it, soft cotton and all matching. Shoved next to the bed is a chest of drawers, one of the handles missing and replaced with a nail bashed into the wood. Hung up precariously on the picture rail over it is Simon's formal uniform - clearly unused for years due to his skilful avoidance of social events. Again, the floor is stripped of carpet (the bedroom in slightly safer condition than in the living room) and the walls are painted, this time a pale pink and dotted with glow-in-the-dark plastic stars.
"Never got them as a kid," Ghost mutters, gesturing to the stars and then the general soft colours of his flat. He shuffles awkwardly on his feet, avoiding eye contact - and subsequently his boyfriend's loving smile too. "You want something to eat? I don't have anything," he adds quickly.
"We can go doon to the chippy?" John suggests, walking over to kiss him tenderly. "Or if you don't feel like seein' people, I could order us something." The taller man nods at the second option, then proceeds to wrap his arms around Soap's waist, burying his face into the crook of his neck and pressing his lips to the skin, simply savouring his warm embrace.
"I love you, Johnny. I'm happy you're here."
The next few days go by far too quick for either's liking. They're spent with long mornings just laying in bed, doing fuck all on their phones in the oddest cuddle positions known; alternatively, smothering each other in hugs and kisses until they have to give them attention until they're satisfied. Time is spent plodding around the flat, wearing pyjama trousers and fluffy socks and with blankets draped over their bare shoulders.
Meals are cooked with very little skill but a whole lot of try, so at least that's something. Neither go out much; just to the shops when they need something or one night to get fish and chips from the good place across the street. They eat sitting on the countertop or the sofa, watching some shitshow with a laugh track that winds Simon up.
Evenings involve making out during conversation, quietly murmuring and laughing between kisses, chests pressed together so their hearts can talk directly. Ghost realises he's never felt so safe and content on leave before this one night when they're lying in bed, a dim lamp the only light in the room as he runs his fingers through Soap's hair, now slightly curly from growing out whilst not on base. It's quiet, but not in the lonely, terrifying way it usually is when he's alone in the flat, left to his own thoughts for however long between deployments.
Maybe, just maybe, leave will become something that he doesn't dread anymore. And perhaps next time - he thinks, pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's forehead and flicking off the lamp - it might be nice to meet Johnny's family.
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