#sheets of plexiglass.

[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

𝔐𝔢𝔱𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔞 - 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔤𝔦𝔳𝔢𝔫 ℑℑ

#Metallica #Reload #The Unforgiven II #Release date: November 18th 1997 #Full-length #sheets of plexiglass. #. #Genre: Hard Rock (mid) #Lyrical themes: Corruption Death Life Internal struggles Anger War #USA #my gif #gifs #my edit #ballads #video #text #james hetfield #cut #gif

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[niteshade925]

Gates are made to be jumped over

#the cardboard over the gate is bc she can fit half of her body through the bars and I don't want her to be stuck esp when I'm not home #onion the cat #cats #otherwise the ideal is to have a sheet of plexiglass over that gate so she can look inside without getting stuck #but custom cut plexiglass is really expensive :P

[inga-don-studio]

Brain, I appreciate you coming up with better ideas on how to make parts of this cosplay, I really do … but couldn’t you have come up with these ideas earlier than, say, 6 working days before it needs to be ready?

#Or better: before I struggled for hours on the old ideas? #I figured out how to make a better hidden window to look out of on the headcrab mask using buckram mesh (same stuff as fursuit eyes)- #- but not after I’d struggled for way too long trying to heat-form PETG plexiglass sheets into the right rounded shape :/ #I’ve been brainstorming this project for months- why now? #Brain I love you -flaws & all- but please you gotta work with me here #But OMG if it works this is going to improve airflow & visibility (no bent-plexiglass distortion) so much! #🎃 cryptid sighting #Misadventures in Cosplay

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[shinkai-kaiju]

tbh once i get Space Going [tm] it would be cool to get back to linocut/screenprinting. I miss the more physical arts that dont have me up for over 24 hours in an arguably insane state working on a project that'll get dropped within seconds after i take a break bc my brain decided its not good/theres no point to it

BUUUT more importantly i wonder. just how viable it would be as a printing method for me. I'd need a rack to dry things on, but it could be cool to sell some small linos whenever I get to opening up shop. My linos have always been more consistent than my screenprints when it comes to making a series, but I really do prefer screenprinting...

(and lithography isnt viable at this time bc i do NOT have the necessary chemicals/kitchen lithography doesnt work anymore apparently??)

#i HAVE to finish this blender model now. sunk cost fallacy save me #chatty today it seems! a rarity from me! i am usually hiding in a hole too scared to do that! #i dont think anime/game fans rlly have a. desire or want for those kinds of printing styles tbh? #and my linos tend to border on blasphemous idolstry and nudity (depending on the day usually) #so idk! but it would be neat. i like carving things #tbh i wanna learn to get meticulous about it bc theres a specific artist who's work i like n i wanna get mine like here #but. alas. humidity maybhavr a factor #also kitchen litho needs an acrylic paint an oily pencil or sharpie (i think?) coca cola and water. you use the coke to etch alukinum foil #but we tried several times n couldnt get it to work #kitchen litho relies on the acids and gum arabic in soda but maybe coke doesnt have gum arabic anymore? or foil is unetchable now? #in terms of acrylic olate: drypoints are fun and i saved a bunch of garbage plexiglass sheets for the purpose of doing more drypoints #but! those def arent for seling tbh. the line quality isnt as good as it is on other materials #ALSO intaglio is STRAIGHT out. too many chemicals and i am never rocking a plate like that for minimal payoff ever again

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[shivanapolymers]

Acrylic and plexiglass sheets have many things different from each other, in which plexiglass sheets cost more than acrylic.

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[k-i-l-l-e-r-b-e-e-6-9]

Metallica - Slither

#Metallica #Reload #Slither #Release date: November 18th 1997 #Full-length #The cover of the album is original artwork depicting urine and blood. #It is one of three photographic studies by Andres Serrano created in 1990 by mingling the artist's own urine and bovine blood between two #sheets of plexiglass. #. #Genre: Hard Rock (mid) #Lyrical themes: Corruption Death Life Internal struggles Anger War #USA

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[canada-plastic]

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[sluttywoozi]

Hey Emily! Hope your road trip is going well and you're travelling safely 💞

For the prompts you posted, could I please ask for “you wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? i just really don’t want today to end.” with Jeonghan? I've been in severe Jeonghan brainrot lol so, I thought reading about him would help keep me from impulsively writing about him myself instead.

omg hi RJ! we had a safe trip to dc and now we’re on the way to nyc! you absolutely can, jeonghan has also on my mind lately and im so happy to write him for you 💖 lowkey u should write him too tho

“You wouldn’t, uh, maybe, want to stay the night, would you? No funny business, I just really don’t want today to end.”

Jeonghan is… nervous. Nervous out of his mind. It’s only the second date, he knows he shouldn’t be asking you this, but he’s just not ready for his time with you to be over.

He started his day by calling you to confirm the date (and he also might have wanted to hear your voice). He spent most of the morning thinking about you, and when he rolled up to your place and spotted you waving excitedly at him on the sidewalk, he finally felt like he could breathe.

He’s breathless now waiting to hear your answer, but he can see you mulling it over and doesn’t want to pressure you.

Soon enough, you give him a sweet smile and say, “I will if you let me use your skincare and your biggest t-shirt.”

“Deal,” He agrees with an easy grin before offering you his hand and helping you into his car. He’s already got the shirt picked out in his mind and thankfully, he washed his sheets yesterday so they’re all fresh and clean for you.

He wasn’t expecting anything more than a date tonight, and he’s elated you’re up for a sleepover too.

It isn’t until he’s pulling into his spot in the parking garage that he realizes this means he’ll get to sleep next to you, and wake up with you, and maybe make you breakfast and give you a kiss tasting of coffee and syrup, and maybe he’ll just go ahead and fall in love with you too.

He’s already halfway there, anyway. What’s a little further?

You chat about what movie to watch as he leads you down the hallway, Jeonghan proposing the Lego trilogy and you countering with your own favorites. You settle on a few episodes of the new drama you’ve both been wanting to see, and his hand only shakes a little as he unlocks the door and pushes it open.

He hopes you like his place; though it’s a bit small and disorganized, it feels like him and he’s proud of the space he’s managed to create. You seem like you do like it, immediately moving to his Lego display case with wide eyes and a bright smile.

Chuckling to himself, Jeonghan follows you to the plexiglass and begins to point out sets he thinks you’ll recognize. It makes for a simple ice breaker and he watches you grow more and more comfortable as the conversation flows.

It flows right over to the couch, where you wrap him up in a tale of the last time you tried to do a lego set. Apparently, your cat ate approximately fifteen pieces while you were making tea and had to go to the emergency vet. He doesn’t blame you for not wanting to attempt another after such an ordeal, though he wonders if you’d ever like to build one with him.

He’s about to ask when you remind him of the plan.

“Can I have that t-shirt? I wanna get out of these jeans, they’re the worst,” you request, grimacing and plucking at the denim.

“Yes!” He jumps up, taking your hand and tugging you up from the couch. You let out a small sound of surprise, following him on light feet to his bedroom.

Jeonghan feels a little shy as you take in his messy bed and clothes-covered chair but he tries not to show it, immediately moving to his dresser to dig out the biggest shirt he owns.

It’s plain, old, and a bit worn out, but it’s the comfiest thing in this apartment and he’s ecstatic to hand it over to you.

He points you to the bathroom, taking the time to change into his own pajamas and pretending his heart doesn’t skip in his chest when you reappear.

You tug at the hem of the shirt, though it rests about midway on your thighs, and he forces his eyes away from your legs and onto your face.

“Looks good on you,” he murmurs, offering you a hand and leading you back into the bathroom.

“Here’s my cleansing balm, and I have a few options for serums. Oh, and here’s my moisturizer.”

It’s all lined up neatly on the quartz of his counter and he watches as you pick up one of his proffered serums with a gleeful look on your face.

“You have the expensive vitamin C,” you breathe, gazing at him with wonder.

“Yeah,” he grins. “Seungkwan is an influencer and he gets a lot of PR, so he gives me his castoffs.”

“What’s it like to be God’s favorite?”

“Like a dream, if I’m being honest.”

You playfully roll your eyes at him and he bumps his hip against yours, his cheeks aching with the width of his smile.

He loves this already, feeling so domestic with you, and he’s halfway into hatching a plan to ask you to move in with him when you set the serum down and pick up the cleansing balm.

You set to work, massaging your face with clear concentration in your eyes, and Jeonghan decides to join you.

Watching and giggling at each other in the bathroom mirror, you scrub your faces clean side by side. This feels familiar to him, like it’s something he’s been doing with you for years, like it’s something he’ll be doing with you for years to come.

He’s lucky you’re busy rinsing away the balm while he comes to the realization that he might be a bit more than halfway in love with you.

It’s not ideal, especially because he’s not sure where you stand, but it is kind of exciting.

He’s never been in love before, but that has to be what this is. This comfort, this contentment, this fondness, this passion.

There’s no other explanation as to why he’s riveted watching you pat serums into your skin, why his heart is racing at the sight of you in his shirt, why he’s never been more excited to crawl into bed before.

It’s all because of you, because you’re here with him.

He only becomes more sure when you both decide to forgo the drama and just go straight to bed, curling up on your sides facing each other under the shared covers.

You talk for hours, until your eyes are falling closed and your words are mere whispers, and just before he succumbs to sleep, he sends a wish out into the universe that every single date he has with you ends like this.

#jeonghan fluff #jeonghan fanfiction #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan drabbles #✨emily answers✨ #✨emily writes✨ #seventeen fluff #seventeen drabbles #seventeen drabble #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen scenarios #kpop scenarios #kpop imagine #kpop imagines #kpop au #kpop oneshots #kpop drabbles #kpop fanfic #jeonghan x y/n #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x you #jeonghan x oc #rj 🥟

[shewritesallnight]

Cell Block Tango [BSD]

YN is sick of listening to Dazai’s and Fyodor’s prison mind games. Locked away underground, she yearns for a distraction and decides that it’s time for a special game of her own. But can she keep control while playing against not one but two demons…

Rating: 18+, NSFW

3.5K words

a/n: Spoiler alert for anime fans but if you are up to date with manga translations then it’s nothing new. For the sake of this fic we are gonna pretend that the prison suits are two pieces rather than the jumpsuit. We are also sticking to the manga version of the prison, not the hamster balls :p

There was a dull throb at the back of her skull and she was pretty sure she was about to have an aneurysm. That or she was finally going insane. It had been bad enough that she was stuck in Meursault; but being trapped in a box between two maniacs made her mind spin.

How she got in this mess, YN wasn’t entirely sure, but she was willing to bet Chuuya’s entire wine collection that it had to do with one of Dazai’s little schemes. She had hoped to never find herself again playing pawn to the former Executive once he disappeared from the Port Mafia.

Apparently, that was just wishful thinking.

The Demon Prodigy of the Port Mafia and the Demon Fyodor faced off in front of her. Sitting in ridiculous plexiglass cells like Hannibal Lector; and she had been graced with the misfortune of being stuck next to both, completing their little block in the shape of a U.

She had tried, when she first arrived, to question the males; an attempt at getting some idea why she had to be thrown in here. To no avail.

At some point, boredom pushed her to start a guessing game between the two of them to see who could recognize songs as she hummed the tune.

Dazai was up to date with the most current pop songs and seemingly a fan of country music. Fyodor was calling out titles before she even got to the second note of anything remotely classical or rap related.

She wasn’t sure if he called out the latter so quickly because he enjoyed the songs or he just didn’t want to hear them.

Once the conversations evolved to apparent mind reading, she left them to their devices. For all she knew they were absolutely bullshitting and toying with her mind as a form of entertainment.

She wouldn’t put it past them.

How long had they been going at it? Was it days? Weeks? It was so hard to tell in this place, though she had no doubt her two prison mates would know.

She craved stimulation, a new book, real music, or a conversation with a normal person. Hell, she was ready to attack a guard for a change of pace. Though they rarely came around save to drop off food and when they did, they remained silent and out of reach.

No doubt a stipulation to prevent any secretive communication to the outside world.

"97,462."

"4,475."

YN groaned, slamming her pillow over her face to drown out the ceaseless stream of numbers. It would put her out of her misery, if she suffocated herself with the pillow. Better yet, would be to suffocate the two of them.

She giggled into the fluff, building the scenario in her mind but frowned when her imagination came to Dazai.

The suicidal maniac would probably enjoy it.

"Uhg," with a huff, she dragged the pillow down from her face and onto her chest.

Her breath stuttered. A delicious jolt shot down her spine at the feel of the pillow brushing over her clothed nipples.

Were the prison uniforms that thin?

She tugged the pillow down another inch and her toes curled at the friction. She chanced a glance towards her cell block mates, still locked in their staring death match and spouting off numbers at a rapid pace.

Maybe they wouldn't notice. Or maybe she wanted them to, her face flushed at the thought.

Maybe she really was going insane.

Either way, it would be a much needed distraction and if it threw those two off their game while working off some frustration, even better.

Decision made, she returned her pillow behind her head and settled against the sheets. As a test she brushed her thumbnail over a nipple and keened.

Fuck, that felt good.

She slipped a hand under her top to cup her breast, gently squeezing, and groaned. Her other hand traveled down to rub over the clothed apex of her thighs.

Once. 

Twice.

Three times, just to feel the delicious friction.

She moved to tug on the band of her pants.

"What do we have here?" "What do you think you're doing?"

Her body froze at the overlapping voices. Caught, like a deer facing off with two wolves. 

She flicked her eyes first to Dazai then across to Fyodor. The duo had their gaze burning into her. She could only imagine her appearance to them. One hand hidden beneath her shirt with the other poised to slip beneath the fabric of her pants.

"I-i,” she paused. 

Honesty was out of the question, there was no way she was going to tell them that she was so bored that she accidentally made herself horny with the idea of them watching her masturbate.

A half-truth then, just enough to placate them.

She cleared her throat before speaking again, “While your little numbers game has been stimulating. I crave a more carnal distraction.”

Not breaking eye contact with the Russian, she slid her hand into her bottoms. YN bit her lip to keep from moaning when her fingertips brushed against her clit.

Was the base of his neck turning red or was that a trick of the prison lights?

"Tell me, Bella," her eyes darted to Dazai, "who brought about these carnal desires?"

Neither of them.

She hadn't been thinking of anything but the sweetness of release.

Lies.

Both men were at the forefront of her mind. It was no secret that the two of them were quite handsome in their own aggravating way. It wouldn’t be the first time she had thought about-

Annoyed, she huffed out a quick, "The both of you seem to be skilled at guessing games, why don’t you figure it out?”

She knew she made a mistake when his eyes darkened.

Holding her gaze, Dazai spoke to his rival. "Shall we find out which one of us makes her pant like a common whore?"

Heat rushed to her face.

"Seems a pointless competition when we already know who it is."

Dazai’s eyes cut to Fyodor and she felt the tension settle around the three of them. 

Taking advantage of their distraction, she took the time to take in the two figures. Dazai had a prominent tent in his pants. While Fyodor sported a large bulge; his very real flush had darkened at his neck, she wondered how far down his chest the color spread. 

It was intoxicating.

The idea of these two men arguing and turned on because of her. She felt a rush of wetness at her entrance, slipped a finger in, and moaned.

She didn't notice when she became the focus of their attention again or that Dazai had pulled his cock from his pants. Nor did she notice how Fyodor tugged his bottoms down mid-thigh and started rubbing at his own.

She was lost to the brush of her finger against her inner walls until Fyodor cut through the haze with his words.

"Myshka, look at me."

She looked up to Fyodor and sucked in a breath. He leaned back on his bed with one hand, the other working around his cock. From what she could see, the tip was the same pretty red color and smeared in precum. 

Dazai had stood, now leaning against the corner of his cell, fully facing her. She had a clearer view of his cock and could see his fingers run across the prominent vein underneath.

He looked delicious and she clenched at the view. She wanted to wrap her lips around the head and swallow him down till she felt him at the back of her throat. 

As if reading her mind, Dazai smirked. He picked up the pace of his hand when a small sigh fell from her lips.

"Do you imagine my fingers replacing yours? Reaching places you can only dream of?" She whined, eyes closing to get lost in the scene.

Yes, she wanted it.

"She would prefer my tongue working her open, tasting her until she screams." 

"F-fuck," she stuttered at Fyodor's words, curling her finger and imagining his tongue in her. 

She couldn't decide which scenario she liked better, riding his face until her body gave out or seeing Fyodor below her, worshiping her cunt from his knees. 

Dazai clicked his tongue, “It would take more than your slimy appendage to ready her for me. Don’t you think Bella?”

He tapped his tip against the plexiglass. “Let’s see how well you prepare for me. Add another finger.”

Shimming off her bottoms, she kicked them to the floor of her cell. Following his instructions, she slipped in a second finger. It was tight and she knew it wouldn’t be enough to let him in. 

Breathlessly, she began scissoring her fingers, stretching herself.

The feeling was glorious.

She wondered how he would feel, hot and heavy inside her. She’d be lying if she said she never thought of it, of him taking her against the wall at headquarters. It made her whimper, adding in a third finger.

The action wasn’t lost on her audience.

“So desperate for my cock that you can’t even wait for directions. How impatient of you.”

Muffled profanity slipped from Fyodor’s lips as she raised her shirt to her collar, exposing her breasts, to pull at her nipple.

She couldn’t hear their harsh breaths, but she could see them falling apart. Dazai’s forehead fell against the wall, his hips thrusting forward to fuck into his hand. 

Fyodor had leaned forward over his legs, one hand still working his cock while the other fondled his balls.

They continued talking, feeding off each other and the display of her body before them. Speaking into existence all the sordid little fantasies she kept tucked away in the back of her mind.

She would have thought they really did have the ability to read minds if they hadn’t spoken of other darker desires. Words that sat heavy in her core and pushed her that much closer to the edge.

She had never seen either man look so disheveled; and she had never wanted anything more than to be in the same cell as them. To hear and feel their words across her skin as they pounded into her.

“N-nhg” Her teeth clamped down on her lip to prevent the syllables from escaping, a name hanging on the tip of her tongue.

She hissed at the pain but was thankful for it.

When did she start to lose control?

There was no way she was going to give into their twisted antics. She would not say either of their names. No matter how badly she wanted to give in.

She struggled to muffle another moan, pleasure building at her center. A thought drifted across her mind, maybe she could tip things back into her favor.

If they wanted her to call out a name, she would.

It would have to be someone they both knew. Someone who would affect both men.

Someone like- oh.

Like him.

She teetered on the edge, palm grinding against her clit-

“Come for me,” they uttered at the same time.

-and she free fell into oblivion.

“Ah-h-Ango!” she cried out, eyes rolling back as her back arched off the mattress. 

Her thighs trapped her wrist while her walls fluttered around her fingers; barely registering the sputtered choke and subsequent snarl in the background.

She collapsed to her mattress, liquid and loose, and took several deep calming breaths then turned towards her audience. 

Dazai’s cum dripped down from where it splattered against the plexiglass, he looked pained. His hand next to his head in a fist.

A quick glance to Fyodor revealed his hands were covered in his release, a displeased look on his face as he watched her.

Pulling her fingers from her core, she made a dramatic show of slurping and sucking the digits clean, tugged her shirt down, and turned her back on the two.

With a flip of her middle finger towards the demonic duo, she pulled the blanket over her body and settled in to sleep.  

BONUS:

There is a saying, that if looks could kill...

Ango had never understood those words more than in that moment. 

He felt the crushing glare from the two demons on the monitors as if they were in the same room as him. Suddenly, he was very glad to have them locked away.

All the wall monitors of the intelligence room were focused on the three cells, as they had been, since the moment the prisoners had taken their first steps into Meursault.

Sure, he had expected to witness some private moments but to witness that and for YN to call out his name at the end.

There were alarm bells going off in the back of his mind but it didn’t matter. He never dared to dream that she could- that she would- 

His pants felt tight, uncomfortably tight.

Ango could feel the burn of all the eyes in the room, pointedly not looking in his direction.

The triple agent’s face was in flames, a hand covered the bottom half of his face. Trying and failing to maintain a sense of normalcy after the show.

And what a show it was.

The servers would have to be wiped. It could complicate things if he was implicated in whatever Dazai had planned.

Yes, they would have to be wiped. 

But Ango wouldn’t put it past his former friend to have a secret message slipped in. Dazai’s heart rate would need to be compared to the video and decoded. Just in case.

Ango would have to take a copy of the video home to thoroughly examine it.

Fun Fact: Ango was the one to arrest YN. Babygirl knew what she was doing when she fed him to the wolves 💅

❥• ➥ I do not give permission to repost or claim any of my work. Reblogs are much appreciated!

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