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#so then I feel like I must not know what good art looks like‚ because clearly no one actually cares
fucktoyfelix · 1 day
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Choking Safety
I've been seeing some kind of scare-mongering type posts going around about choking during sex, so I wanted to address how to approach choking in a safe way. Choking is not a 0 risk activity, but it is also not so dangerous that you will just randomly die either. Anyone who does martial arts will confirm that thousands of teenagers are being successfully trained to choke each other safely (for self defense) every day! There's no reason you can't learn to do it too.
First you should be familiar with some basic anatomy of the neck and throat:
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The carotid veins on both sides of the neck and the trachea/windpipe in the center are the most important things to be aware of. If you want to enjoy the psychological element of having someone's hands around your neck with relatively little risk, you can do "choking" play that avoids putting any pressure on those arteries or the trachea. As with all choking play, safety is highest when both parties are fully sober. I'm not actually sure if there are people out there who are into having the windpipe or trachea blocked. This tends to hurt like fuck and cause an autonomic choking response. You'll know if you went too far center because generally the bottom will be like "WTH". I don't know if there is a way to do this play safely or not as I don't have experience with it. It probably carries some risk of the trachea collapsing which would be a hospital trip for sure. Most choking play is done with the intention of cutting off the blood supply to the brain by applying pressure to both the left and right carotid arteries. This type of choking is not really "breath play" because of the way it works (though many people refer to it that way.) This creates a pleasant light headed feeling, but is also where the higher risk comes in. It often doesn't take long for a person to lose consciousness once these arteries are blocked, often less than 10 seconds. Sometimes getting completely choked out is the goal, sometimes not. Either way, the top has to pay very very careful attention to every aspect of their bottom's body language. Once you realize that a person has lost consciousness, the choking must stop immediately. Because of this: the most dangerous way to do this kind of play is alone. (hence all the auto-erotic asphyxiation deaths you hear about) It goes without saying that intoxication also dramatically increases the risks. It's not recommended to lose consciousness this way on a regular basis. It's just not good for your brain to repeatedly go through, especially in rapid succession. Generally, the more time spaced out between this type of play: the better. Though some people may have medical conditions that make the risk higher, as long as you stop choking when you reach the desired headspace, this play is approachable. Anyone who's REALLY into the idea but feels unsure or scared, I highly recommend taking a few martial arts classes. MMA guys do this to each other all the time! For sports! The key is just stopping at the right time. There are two main ways to go about blocking the carotid arteries. The main one used in martial arts and self defense is the rear naked choke.
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This type of choke is incredible effective at choking someone out quickly and easily. The forearm and the bicep are squeezing each artery until the desired effect is achieved. The risk here is how quickly it works in combination with not being able to have a visual on your bottom's facial response. When someone loses consciousness they will go limp and begin twitching somewhat. This is normal, and you should stop immediately if you notice those signs. The more common method of choking play during sex is what looks more like typical choking. Facing your partner, using both hands.
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You want to find the arteries with both hands, and use the meat at the base of your thumbs to apply gradually increasing pressure upwards towards your partner's head. You can keep the thumbs tucked to avoid accidental pressure on the windpipe. (Though this is not required so long as you remember not to apply pressure to the windpipe.) This type of play has a few safety benefits. First, you can see your partner's face so it's more obvious when you can see they've hit a headspace that is desirable. Additionally, it's just a little more difficult to find the arteries and push up on them correctly. If your goal is to get a little light headed without losing consciousness, this is more easily accomplished with this type of choke. However, losing consciousness is still a risk and both partners being fully alert will ensure the lowest risk environment. I know choking play is incredibly popular, even 'vanilla' people participate in this type of play on a regular basis without really knowing the technical details. Most of them don't get seriously hurt...but knowing what you're actually doing with risky play is a base component of risk aware consensual kink. Anyway I hope people find this helpful! Happy choking!!
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pezberrywhoreee · 2 days
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'Controlled'
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pairing: dom!janis imi'ike x sub!regina george
words: 2,685
content warning: harddom!janis, puppyslutsub!regina, bdsm, d/s dynamic, hypno kink, puppy play, forced puppyfication, cnc, strap, humiliation, corruption, oral fixation, orgasm torture, overstimulation, frottage and grinding, spitplay (drool)
summary: she doesn't know what's good for her, but she'll learn
note: any tist's or people that do hypno (whether erotic or not), i want to make it clear that it was an artistic choice to not include dialogue of each suggestion of triggers that janis gives. i thought that it would get too repetitive and it could've potentially made the reaction a little underwhelming. however, i fully understand that suggestions must be made in order for a trigger to essentially function. i don't know if im overthinking it or not but im really not out here trying to misrepresent the art that is hypnosis with my subpar knowledge :D
"What makes you think you can talk to me like that?" Janis stalked behind the taller girl, her voice eerily calm and collected by her neck.
Regina only scoffed in return, finding the girls attempt at intimidation humorous at best.
"Kneel right now" the brunette ordered, her low tone already tickling Regina's inherent need to submit to the woman. "Fucking kneel!" Janis raised her voice when the blonde gave her an unimpressed look.
They had been playfully arguing about how Regina would make a beautifully pliable puppy, to which the blonde counter argued that the brunette was crazy to think that she would ever have such little dignity, especially in front of someone who knew her to be so confident in the way she held herself.
It was when Regia kept insisting a little too seriously that Janis was "delusional" that the brunette knew it was the perfect time to start the scene.
Janis grabbed the girl's wrist and dragged her into their shared bedroom. Not one part of her was surprised when Regina didn't put up a fight. She would never admit it but she arguably preferred submission over dominance. It was very obvious but she liked to think that it wasn't.
The blonde held the fierce eye contact that the brunette threatened her with, her peripheral catching how the girl's chest heaved in rage. Regina couldn't help the way her eyebrow cocked along with the smirk that pulled at her lips, which ultimately drove Janis to quickly push the girl onto the floor by her head, forcing weight on it until her knees gave out and she dropped on the hardwood.
"What the fuck are you doing?!" the blonde exclaimed as Janis forced her arms behind her back and gave her a warning and expectant look to stay put.
"You don't know what's good for you, Regina" the brunette hummed, controlling the rage in her voice as she moved to retrieve a couple of accessories to aid what she was about to put the stubborn girl through.
After Regina collected herself from being called her name by her girlfriend, she scoffed once more at her words. "So you're going to force me to find out what is?" she challenged, cocking her head though she kept her position.
"Oh please, don't act like you don't want it!" Janis retorted as she stepped back in front of the kneeling girl.
Regina rolled her eyes because she knew that the girl was right.
Janis joined the blonde on the floor, sitting in front of her to bring her to eye level. "Deep breath" she commanded as she forced eye contact with the blonde once more. She smiled as the girl complied, seeing a bit of her reserve dissolving. "Relax your body, untense, let your knees and arms slack if they need to" the brunette tapped into the familiar soft, monotone part of her voice.
On the exhale, the blonde allowed her body to relax. Her head dropped slightly and her arms unlinked, falling by her sides. Her weight fell into her hips, pushing down into her thighs.
"Good girl, one more time~". Janis encouraged as she mirrored the action, hopefully pushing the girl to feel more comfortable. "Let those eyes fall, listen to your body", she hummed as she kept a close eye on the girl's breathing.
Regina slumped on the exhale further. Her head closer to lolling but still not fully dropped, her stomach more pushed out as her chest hallowed.
"Such a good girl. Every time I say 'good girl' you are going to feel yourself relaxing deeper into that safe, secure place. Don't resist it" the brunette continued, smiling as she saw the girls eyes starting to flutter shut and become one with her breathing.
"Now, every time I touch your forehead and say 'stop' you're going to return to your normal state. Your breathing will be normal as if you just woke up. When you hear a snap, you're going to fall two times deeper into that safe, dumb, thoughtless place. Nod if you understand". Janis hummed, pleased with how quickly the girl was falling into trance.
The blonde gave a slight nod, showing the brunette that she was actively listening.
She brought her finger up and tapped her forehead, humming the release trigger. Regina blinked her eyes open, a tired smile on her face as the brunette came into sight again. "Very good~. How was that, baby?", she asked as her hand reached to stroke at the girl's thigh.
Regina gave her a less powerful scoff. "Do you think this is actually going to work?" she got out just before the snap resonated in her head and she instantly dropped deeper into trance.
Janis let a soft laugh leave her at the irony of the moment. "I'm going to touch your forehead and you will undress unknowingly. It will feel instinctual and natural and you will not realise until I point it out. You're doing so well, baby" she suggested, her tone becoming a bit more commanding, but still recognisable to the tranced girl.
As soon as Regina felt the touch to her face, her eyes fluttered open and she took in the girl's pleased face. She reached for the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head and handing it to the girl in front of her. Janis took it with a chuckle at which Regina furrowed her brows.
The blonde pushed back on her ass to peel off the boxers that she was wearing, handing that to the girl too. Janis took a moment to acknowledge the light sheen of arousal that glazed the girls cunt. She waited for Regina to kneel again before piping up.
"Notice anything?" the brunette gestured to her body, fighting a smirk.
Regina looked down, taken aback by her naked state. "Oh fuck...I'm getting wet" she mumbled, feeling the growing throbbing at her cunt. She fought the confusing urge to let her hands fall between her thighs.
Janis let that smirk make itself known. "Well that was quick, huh?" she teased lightly.
"Shut the fuck up—" Regina just managed to retort before that snap triggered that familiar response that now become muscle memory.
The brunette took this opportunity to secure a leather collar around the girl's neck, making sure it wasn't too tight but tight enough to always be felt. She also slipped a leather harness onto her hips, fastening the buckles in the front snugly.
"When I touch your nose and say 'puppy' you are going to only think puppy thoughts. You will act like a puppy and nothing will exist besides following commands and being a good girl.". Janis hummed, feeling herself really getting into it now.
The trigger elicited a low whine in the back of Regina's throat as she came back into something akin to reality. These puppy-like sounds continued as she planted her fist against the ground and pushed her back up, now on all fours with her back arched.
She briefly shook her head, as if to rid of the hazy feeling in her body which Janis found endearing.
The blonde looked up at the shorter girl, her tongue threatening to loll out.
"Let go, puppy" Janis encouraged softly as she moved to stand back up. She hummed when the girl let her tongue hang out, little pants accompanying the act.
Regina started to barely noticeably wiggle her ass along with her panting but was encouraged by the hummed "good girl" that once again fell from the brunette's lips.
The brunette watched as the girl began to lightly shake from the amount of attention she was getting, a satisfied grin appearing on her face.
She reached for the attachable toy that connects to the harness as she spoke. "Puppy's don't think. You're too dumb to think on your own and you need someone smarter to think for you, isn't that right?" Janis hummed, her tone now mocking.
The blonde nodded, a wide smile obstructed by her tongue.
"Such a good girl-" she hummed before tapping the girls forehead again "in heat: 8". A shit eating grin appeared on the brunette's face as she attached the toy into the rings of the harness, quickly averting her attention back to the panting girl.
Regina sunk into the ground with another throaty whine, her tongue disappearing periodically to whimper. She looked up at the other girl with begging eyes, her ass pushed out.
"Please, mommy" she whined as she dropped her head, hopefully muffling the desperate plea.
The brunette tried to hide her surprise at the infrequent honourific that so beautifully rolled off the girls tongue.
"Uh uh, puppy's don't speak, you know that! Be a good girl and bark for me. In heat: 9" the brunette played around with triggers, laughing sadistically when the girl quietly barked as her face was tapped.
Janis marveled at the panting girl, in love with how deep in her mind she already was. Her eyes caught how the blonde was pushing her hips into the air, cocking a brow.
"Come here, puppy!" her voice jumped up an octave as she sat down on the edge of the bed, patting her lap enticingly.
The brunette hummed contently as Regina crawled over to her without question. She was rewarded with a few a scritches behind her ear which she leaned into. Janis couldn't help but find it endearing to see the girl give into what they both knew was good for her.
"What are we going to do with this mouth?" Janis teased as she ran her fingers along Regina's lips, pushing them into her practically drooling mouth and collecting some saliva to spread on her chin.
She chuckled as the vibrating girl's eyes went between her face and the toy resting on her pelvis, her eyes intense and eager.
Janis gave her a challenging look at which the blonde took the opportunity to nuzzle against the leather decorating the girl's hips, whining while doing so.
"Oh—do you want something?" the brunette taunted as she continued to softly stroke the girl's head. Regina let her tongue loll out once more before giving a low growl in frustration.
Janis knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to not think. She needed to turn her brain off. Now there's no reality in where she would admit this but the brunette could see right through her, and besides they had excessively talked about it during negotiation.
"Is the puppy all bothered? Is she not getting what she wants?" the brunette mocked as she slipped her shin between the girl's spread legs. She gave her a gentle nod as desperate eyes looked up at her.
With a growl the blonde lowered her cunt against the girl's leg, her eyes fluttering and another whine resounding in her throat. "You better put that mouth to use, baby" she purred as she took hold of both the girl's head and the toy, running the tip along waiting lips.
Janis bit her lip as the girl stuck her tongue out and took the silicon tip into her mouth, her hips starting a rather quick rhythm as she rubbed against the brunette. Her eyes squeezed shut at the heightened sensations that were powering her body.
The blonde started to feel thoughts fading away, her mind slowly becoming empty. This only increased her already debilitating arousal.
The shorter girl's hand found a comfortable grip on the girl's jaw, lightly forcing her to take the strap deeper into her mouth. She wanted to show her that filling her holes could potentially make up for being blank otherwise.
"All it took was a little coercion and mocking to get you right where you belong. To get you doing the only thing you're good for. Good girls only think about pleasing" she purred as she stared down into lidded eyes that held nothing but space. A heavy groan left her as she felt whines reverberating through the toy and push against her own cunt.
Just as Regina took the girl into her throat, she felt a grip on her wrist that elicited a stuttering of her hips, her eyes rolling into her skull and her jaw falling slack from its previous suction.
The grip on her jaw tightened "Who said you could stop?" the brunette taunted as she held her grasp on that wrist, prolonging the sudden orgasm.
Muffled moans fell from stretched lips as she instinctively continued to lave her tongue over the toy, eyes begging for mercy.
Janis let go of her wrist, a satisfied smirk plastered on her flushed face. "Good girl! You took that so well~" she hummed.
Regina panted around the length on her tongue, her eyes falling closed at the slight suggestion of falling deeper into trance. Her hips started up again, momentarily jumping due to the sensitivity of her cunt.
The brunette threw her head back as the girl resumed her eager sucking, the flat of the harness continuing to press against her.
She waited until the girl took her into her throat, her eyes fluttering at the fullness. "Statue" Janis hummed, tapping the girl's forehead once again and sighing contently when she completely froze.
The brunette chuckled as took a hold of the girl's hair and started pushing into her esophagus mercilessly, her breath hitching as she forced past the blonde's gag reflex. She stared down at the frozen girl in awe as she was literally transformed into a manipulatable subject to be used.
"Good girl" Janis groaned as she gave her a couple of deeper thrusts as to feel that friction against her aching cunt. "Such a good, pliable puppy" the soft laugh turning into a breathless moan.
A new wave of arousal shot through her as she caught sight of Regina's teary eyes, the trigger having had disabled her from blinking. Reluctantly she tapped the girl's head again, muttering a release before giving the girl some control over her own head.
An agonised cry left the blonde as she felt a grip on her wrist once more. Her thighs grasped at the shin between them. The soft touch of the brunette wiping the tears from her cheek made her realise just how sensitive her skin had become.
"Oh is it too much, puppy?" Janis mocked, feigned care in her voice as she let go of the shaking wrist. She couldn't help but admire how the girl trembled beneath her assault just like she was meant to.
The brunette guided Regina's lips away from the toy to allow her to fill her lungs and clear her uncomfortably empty throat. The blonde looked up at her with dead, watering eyes that begged to be consumed by the other girl's essence, to have someone make a decisions for her.
"Go ahead, baby" Janis whispered as she felt the girl's hips regain its effort in rutting against her leg. Regina wrapped her arms around the girl's thigh to brace herself before her hips took control over her being.
Her lips fell open in a pant, causing a steady stream of drool to pour out of her vacant mouth. A quiet growl left the brunette as the thin liquid made contact with her thigh, watching as a needy tongue pushed out more of what was left of the blonde's brain.
"That's it~ my undignified girl" she purred as she aided the humping girl by flexing her leg against her core. Janis knew that Regina would have scoffed at the comment if her mind wasn't currently leaking out of her holes.
The whines in the blonde's throat increased in pitch which was Janis's cue to press her forehead one last time and utter "In heat: 10", causing the girl to instantly tumble over the edge of another wrecking orgasm. Unintelligible pained sounds fell from drooling lips as her head collapsed in exhaustion, hips stuttering reluctantly.
"Such a good girl" Janis hummed, stroking the blonde's flushed face.
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reduxulousoctopus · 20 hours
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X-Men '97, Post-Episode 7, ~2500 words Morpherine established relationship, missing scene (unless the show actually does explore what happened during that fight, in which case boy is there egg on my face).
I follow established show canon by referring to Morph as he/him in diegetic works (fanfic and fan art) and they/them in non-diegetic works (my episode analyses and reblogs), because that's the stupidest option and, like Morph, I am also an enby with a terrible sense of humor.
Now come watch me struggle to write two whole lines of dialogue for one of my favorite characters in the series, Beast, because Me Too Stupid to Write Smart Talk Good.
--
“You wanna explain what the hell happened back there?”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the question, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan glaring back at him with an expression as hard as the adamantium underneath it. Although it’s a look he’s seen plenty of times before as an innocent bystander, Morph has only been the target of that glare on a handful of occasions. Usually when he’s severely fucked something up. Or when Logan is completely out-of-his-mind, cuckoo-bananas worried about him.
Morph suspects that this time, it’s a little Column A, a little Column B.
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph smirks and asks, “What, the Summers Family Reunion? Well, you see, when a man and the clone of his wife love each other very much…” Morph chuckles. “By the way, this might be a bit creepy to say as one of his honorary uncles, but Baby Nathan grew up to be a serious hottie—emphasis on serious.”
No laugh. Okay, maybe that wasn’t his best material, but not even a lip twitch? Logan must be pissed.
Morph sighs and slouches in his seat. God, he doesn’t want to talk about this right now. Or maybe ever. He can feel his throat literally closing up to stop the words from coming out.
When enough time has passed that what little patience Logan had left in the tap completely runs dry, he goes right for the jugular: “I thought you were dead. Again.”
Morph winces.
“I saw that… ‘Trask Sentinel’ blow your goddamn head off. Then, next thing I know, you’re up and walkin’ around like nothing happened.”
“Not that you’re complaining, right?” Morph asks with a weak attempt at a laugh. “You know what they say about gift horses. Although, you’d think the lesson from the Trojan War would be that you should look gift horses in the mouth.”
From the seat behind him, Morph hears: “Although it’s a common misconception, that phrase actually has nothing to do with the Trojan Horse. The proverbial ‘gift horse’ is a literal, living horse, and to look it in the mouth—”
“With all those books you read,” Logan grumbles, “I thought at least one of them would've taught you it's rude to eavesdrop.”
“It would be difficult not to overhear, given the two of you are speaking quite loudly in a confined space while surrounded by people,” Beast points out. “Have you considered that this perhaps isn’t the best venue for a private conversation?”
“He is a super-genius. We’d better listen to him,” Morph tells Logan. “We’ll talk later, okay big guy?”
The stubborn set of that heavy jaw says Logan knows damn well ‘later’ means ‘never,’ and he isn’t gonna let Morph weasel out of this that easy. “If you ever want me to let you off this plane, you’ll talk now.”
“Let me?” Morph scoffs. He transforms into Quicksilver, puts on his best smug speedster grin, and says, “Just try and stop me, slowpoke.”
To his shock, Logan actually flinches. It’s a subtle thing, Morph might not have even noticed if he didn’t know Logan so well. The cause eludes him, however—until Morph remembers that he looked like Maximoff when the Thrask Sentinel… when everything went dark and quiet for a few seconds.
Funny. There was a time when Morph, blinded by youthful naivety and hero-worship, would have insisted Wolverine wasn’t afraid of anything.
Returning to his default form, Morph mutters out an apology. He tries to imagine what it would be like to see Logan die, only for him to get up a few seconds later and act like nothing happened. With that healing factor of his, they’ve gotten damned close to that exact scenario more than a few times.
How much worse would it feel, if Logan had kept his quick-healing abilities secret and Morph had to find out the hard way?
Morph takes a breath, looks out the window at the black clouds rushing by, and starts from the beginning.
“You know how most of us don’t know we’re mutants until we hit puberty, and our powers manifest? Well… I didn’t have to wait that long. Problem is, since I was just a baby, I had no idea how to control my powers—no more than a normal baby is born knowing how to walk or talk.
He holds out his hands with his palms cupped together to form a shallow, makeshift bowl.
“When I was born, I looked like a wriggling lump of white clay, about yay-big. No arms or legs, no face, no ears, no eyes. Just a mouth that would appear somewhere on my body whenever I was hungry or wanted to cry.”
Whatever Logan was expecting to hear, from the look on his face, it clearly wasn’t that.
“But even at that tender age, someone clearly recognized my star potential. I was only two days old when I made my media debut: Severely Deformed MUTANT Born In Pittsburgh Hospital.” Morph shrugs. “Not the most positive review, I’ll admit, but you know what they say: all publicity is good publicity. After all, that’s how the professor found me.”
Logan’s frown returns, more confused than angry. “You told me you didn’t meet Xavier until you were thirteen—after your mom passed.”
“That’s when I moved to the Institute. Turns out we actually met quite a lot earlier than I remembered, which is pretty embarrassing. Ideally, you don’t want to meet your future high school principal, college instructor, mentor, and world famous civil rights leader while wearing a diaper. Even worse, I was wearing a diaper, too—and I told him, mister, one of us is going to have to go home and change his outfit and it sure isn’t going to be me.”
That gets him a smile and a huff of a laugh, which would be an encouraging sign if he didn’t know how the story ends.
“So Xavier talked to my parents, explained the whole ‘mutant thing.’ Dad wasn’t happy. Then again, I’m not sure he ever was. He would have been disappointed to have a girl—a sentient lump of polymorphic biomass was right out. Thankfully, Xavier was able to use his telepathy to coach me through my very first transformation. He showed me how to turn into a normal baby boy, who would eventually grow up to look like this.”
Morph transforms into his old default, the one he still uses whenever he wants to pass: pale (although not that pale) skin, brown eyes, brown hair, hooked nose, pointed chin, gaunt cheeks, arched brows. Not exactly Fabio, but it’s the face Logan used to know him by—the face he sometimes worries Logan might secretly still prefer.
“Then he put some psychic blocks in place to limit my powers to something a bit more… manageable. Don’t give me that look. It sounds shady, but the professor messing with my head was the only reason I got to have a normal, happy childhood with my parents. God only knows what would have happened otherwise—if I’d even be alive now.”
The worry and suspicion that appeared on Logan’s face at the mention of psychic tampering grudgingly fade away. “When did you find out?” he asks instead.
“A couple months after the professor… y’know,” Morph sighs. “I hacked his personal files. Since he wouldn’t be around anymore to help you recover your memories, I hoped that maybe I could find something small he overlooked, some clue that might give us an idea where to look next.”
Logan’s eyes widen and his mouth goes slightly slack. “Morph…”
“I didn’t find anything, before you get excited. Not about you, anyway. Sure found out a lot about myself, though—a lot more than I was bargaining for.”
“That’s when your default form changed,” Logan realizes.
“Yeah. It was kind of hard to think of this,” Morph replies, gesturing at the face of his human-passing form, “as my ‘real’ face after that. Not that my new look is any more real, of course.”
“Who else knows?”
“Other than our friends listening to this conversation right now?” Morph asks pointedly, causing an entire plane full of X-Men to each make their best attempt at looking busy. Nightcrawler’s method of peering thoughtfully at the radio controls with one hand on his chin is particularly masterful—Logan mentioned he used to perform in a circus, so it’s no wonder he’s got such a good instinct for stage-business. “I told Hank and Moira not long after I found out. Seemed like a bad idea to keep that information from my doctors. Especially when one of them is also my therapist.”
At receiving a glare from Logan, Beast develops a sudden and convenient fascination with the view through the Blackbird’s window.
“But you didn’t want anyone else to know.” Logan could accept that, even if he doesn’t like it. Nothing personal. A man’s business is man's business, after all—even for a not-quite-man like Morph.
Too bad it wouldn’t be the truth; no more ‘real’ than any face that Morph wears.
“I didn’t want you to know.”
Morph can handle Logan’s anger, no problem. That’s almost charming, after all these years. But it’s the flicker of hurt, just like that little flinch earlier, that really cuts him to the quick.
“Not because I don’t trust you, or want to keep things from you or anything, it’s just… I didn’t—I couldn’t—”
He sighs and looks away again. He transforms back into his new default: smooth white skin, mask-like face. Obviously inhuman.
Still a lot more human than he looked when he was born, though.
“So, yeah. That’s why I’ve apparently gained the ability to survive having my head blown off. It sure would have been handy to know that my organs were optional the last time a Sentinel put me down. Now, instead of being out of commission for two years I’ll never get back, I can just squish myself back together and keep on keepin’ on.”
Logan doesn’t respond, and slowly, the mutter of other conversations step in to fill the void. Morph stares at nothing, sick with nerves. It’s deeply unfair that he can still feel nauseous even though he doesn’t have a stomach anymore.
He would say it’s all in his head, but if he can survive without one, maybe he doesn’t have a brain, either.
Badum-tch.
Good line. Hopefully he’ll remember it after the existential horror wears off, in the brief window when things will be funny again before the heartbreak sinks in.
Because there’s dropping a bombshell on a relationship—then there’s dropping a fucking nuke.
Oh God. There isn’t going to be a window, is there?
“Morph. Look at me.”
Although he considers pretending he didn’t hear the command, Morph reluctantly glances across the center aisle of the Blackbird to see Logan looking back at him with an expression as soft as the heart he usually tries to hide.
“No matter what you look like, there’s one thing you’ve never been able to change,” Logan tells him. “That’s real enough for me.”
A wiser person might realize they were in a hole and stop digging; Morph can’t stop himself from opening his big stupid mouth. No wonder that was the one feature even Baby Morph knew to give himself. “There are more blocks Xavier left behind that I haven’t pushed through, yet. Maybe I’ll even figure out how to change my scent, someday.”
From the look on his face, Logan clearly hadn’t considered that possibility. Morph immediately wishes he could take it back, feeling like he’s just tarnished something sacred.
It’s always been strangely intimate, the way Logan can recognize him by scent alone. Even from the beginning, when Morph decided to pull a prank on the grumpy new recruit, only for Wolverine to sniff him out mere seconds into his planned routine—it was as if, like the Emperor’s New Clothes, he suddenly realized he had been naked the entire time.
Another, smarter shapeshifter might have avoided Logan after that; Morph couldn’t get enough.
One-sided pestering turned into an unlikely friendship, turned into friends-with-benefits, turned into… whatever they have now. That which dares not speak its name.
The thought of losing that connection, the idea that someday he may be able to change himself so thoroughly that even Logan won’t be able to recognize him anymore… It’s too awful. Cursed knowledge. Like learning about the solar cycle when he was a kid, and suddenly having the horrible realization: if even the sun is going to die someday, what makes him so sure Mom will get better?
Out of the corner of his eye, Morph sees Logan’s hand start to move, stop, then start again, reaching across the aisle towards him. For a insane, terrifying moment, he thinks Logan’s about to hold his hand, outing them in front of God, the other X-Men, and everybody—but of course, that enormous, rough mitt lands on his shoulder instead. Perfectly platonic, approved for all audiences by S&P.
Though they’re shooting through the air at supersonic speed, under the heavy weight of that hand, Morph feels rooted to stable ground. He closes his eyes and takes a few slow breaths he doesn’t actually need, with lungs he only has when he remembers to make himself some.
If there are any people left when the sun finally burns out in a few billion years, they’ll still be telling each other jokes as they go into that endless good night. Just think of the money we’ll save on sunscreen. Maybe, but you know the light-bulb companies are gonna take us to the cleaners. Ha ha, freeze frame, theme song, end credits.
Even as her body slowly wasted away under the combined onslaught of cancer and chemo, Mom always laughed at his jokes, no matter how many times she heard the one about the chicken who crossed the road. His most appreciative audience, to the very last curtain call.
The world is pretty fucking scary right now, and only getting scarier. Sinister. Genosha. Losing Gambit. Sentinels again, in all new and even more monstrous forms. Even worse: total war between humans and mutants looming over the horizon, shaking the ground with each step, getting closer and more inevitable every time someone mentions it, like a demon whose power grows every time you says its name.
But just because things are scary doesn’t mean the world's turning into a horror movie, and just because things are sad doesn’t make it a tragedy. Everyone gets to choose the genre of their life story—and Morph will always pick comedy.
He gives the hand on his shoulder a friendly pat, and uses the motion to disguise a slightly more-than-friendly squeeze. “I’m alright, just a little airsick. I think it’s making me maudlin.”
As he pulls his hand back, Logan frowns a little in confusion—he knows Morph is experienced enough in the air that he shouldn’t be getting nauseous over what are, for the Blackbird, barely above pleasure-cruise speeds.
“How unfair is that, by the way?” Morph asks. “I don’t even have a stomach right now.”
Logan chuckles. Nah, baby, don’t give it up for me that easy, Morph thinks, fighting a grin. You gotta make me work for it a little…
He needn’t have worried, though. When he does make it to the punchline, Logan laughs so hard that he snorts, the laugh-lines Morph has personally carved into that seemingly indestructible face creasing and growing deeper still. And as their friends who Definitely Weren’t Eavesdropping join in—even Rogue, so teary and congested that her laughs would sound like sobs if she wasn’t smiling—Morph knows all their attempts to hide their relationship have been for nothing, because there’s no way that all the love he feels for Logan in that moment isn’t writ large all over whichever face he's wearing right now.
That’s real enough for him.
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keeps-ache · 7 months
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redesign :D
#art#my art#artists on tumblr#digital art#oc#pink space#RIP the ponytail lol#though when i first drew her i hadn't liked it very much and was like 'that'll prolly be temporary' And Then I Didn't Change It For Like A#Year Lmao#so this was bound to happen#+ it was cuz i didn't know what to do for her head's silhouette but i've figured that out so now i hardly draw the ponytail loll#//next will be either Kira or Hid's ref!! depending on which one my brain can get the least undefined about hfvhs#//also i kinda really love how her redesign turned out hfhhd#i could never figure out how i wanted her to dress because when i was drawing her up i#1) was a little afraid of making her look too [you know gesture] for Reasons lol [<- is so vague for no reason]#and 2) if the clothes were Cool but didn't cover enough it must been Bad. i have no idea where this idea came from lol!! but beGONE#//OH yea and i never explain any of the lore for this story ever but i like to explain and justify decisions a lot so how 'bout that hfhvs#/so in this world a good chunk of society has heat-based powers (no other kind) so emergency responders/enforcers need fire-proof gear#Aura never wears hers right because well. they Feel Bad (cursing her with The Big Coat Is Hell lolll)#there Is a coat to this ensemble. mmm no i will not be drawing it for a while hfsvh#+ the axe is because of the whole The Gods Will Give You A Sick Weapon As A Sign Of Alliance And Protection thing#but honestly if i get talking about the Gods i won't stop for the next 8 paragraphs lol#/i've had this story for a year. there's a lot hsbvfabfj#my brother has listened to me explain the thing like 5 times. because he doesn't remember what i tell him and neither of us can stay on#topic ever Hfhsv#//but yeah gonna spin in circles forever now!! and maybe rub my feet raw on the carpet again tryna learn this dance :3 tooooodles
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squid--inc · 10 months
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taylor-titmouse · 2 months
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hey i want to talk about how you should be promoting your work as an erotic author/illustrator
i'm writing this up because the marketing aspect of my work as an erotic author/illustrator is a science to me, and also because i'm the guy who gets unreasonably annoyed when i see other creators not properly advertising their work. you presumably want to make money off your work. this post will be written under the assumption you want to make money off your work but are doing a bad job at it. it will be very confrontational. if you read this and feel attacked you're right and i am attacking you.
this is geared toward selling erotic comics/writing/books/art as products. i will probably write more than one post about this subject so if i didn't touch on something you want to know more about, comment/send me an ask and i'll keep it in mind for the next one.
i will start with my first and least specific but most important point:
DON'T GET FUCKING CUTE
hi are you paying attention. i'm gripping you by the sides of your face. do not get fucking cute with what you are trying to sell. you are not a big enough property to get cute, nobody LIKES it when big properties get cute, and you are selling porn. you have to own this. you have to be up front about this. don't be tongue in cheek, don't be all teehee i wonder what this could be~, don't be secretive. you are selling a product. you have to fucking act like it. you are an adult selling pornography to other adults. i am GRIPPING your HEAD you NEED to understand this.
and to be clear when i say 'cute' i mean coy. i don't mean cutesy, as in the aesthetic. you can be as hello kitty pastel ten emojis a post uwu as you like when you're building your audience and generating hype. but when you start trying to sell, don't be vague, don't be sarcastic, don't mislabel your work as a joke and assume everyone is on it. because they're not.
you must always assume 75% of the people seeing the thing you are advertising have no fucking idea who you are. and that includes a huge chunk of the people who already follow you. they do not know who you are or what you've been working on for two months or why they should care about it. they just got here. somebody just reposted it. they are seeing it for the first time. most people are only looking at social media for a tiny chunk of their day. they are not keeping up with you. you cannot get cute about what you are trying to sell because nobody knows what it is until you tell them.
okay are you still with me. we are going to talk about clarity now.
YOU GOTTA TELL ME WHAT IT IS
good lord the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's comic or book and had no idea what's actually in it or what it's about. who are the characters? why should i care about them? what do they do in it? what is the premise of this thing you want me to spend $5 on? why would you not tell me? i'm shaking you again. please i have to know what i'm buying i only have so much money to spend on porn.
porn, arguably more than any other genre, relies on knowing exactly what is in it. you do not want to surprise your readers with a kink they were unaware of! and on the flip side, you do not want to miss out on your target audience! if your book contains a hot spider babe laying eggs in an elf, you have to say so. not just so people who don't want to read about eggs know it isn't for them, but so the people who are egg crazy can see that and go "oh fuck YES i love EGGS here is my $5 and an extra $2 tip for catering to me specifically". a contents/features list is as much an advertisement as it is a warning!
as for re: who the characters are and why should i care, i'm sorry but you need to learn how to write sales copy. you have to write blurbs. you have to get good at the shit that goes on the back of a book. we all hate it but we have to do it. i want to know who the characters are and what the context is. i, personally, am not interested in contemporary stories as much as fantasy and historical. please tell me what genre this porn exists in so i know if it aesthetically appeals to me. pull some books off your shelves and see how they do it. hell man go look at mine.
while you're there, note that every single book of mine has a sample of what's in it. this feels like such a no-brainer to me but again! the amount of times i have gone to buy somebody's work and they don't show me what their work looks like! you gotta give me the first page or two! just enough that i know if i like the way your writing sounds, or the way you draw your comics! i don't know you! i am not going to trust that you're good at what you do just based on a cover. the cover is to get me to this step, it is not the only step. you have to show me that you're worth spending my money on!
to put it less cynically, you want to catch my interest. you want me to go 'oh i want to see more of this', you want me to go 'ahh i want to know where this goes!' you need to get me invested and craving more. earn my $5!!!
YOU HAVE TO MAKE IT EASY TO GIVE YOU MONEY
hey go look at your bio right now. go look at your pinned post. do you have a link to your patreon there? do you have a link to your itchio/gumroad/whatever? do i have to click more than once to get to the places you want me to go to give you money? why? why are you making me click twice? have we learned nothing from every website making you click an extra time when they make some stupid UI update and how much it pisses us off? i have already given up, i have forgotten you, i am not giving you my $5 today. put your links in the easiest places to get to them.
god literally as i was writing this post i went to go find somebody's itchio to see how they described their work and it was not anywhere on their profile. grabbing you and shaking you PUT THE LINK WHERE I CAN FIND IT. don't make it hard! make it easy! i am a dickhead sitting on the toilet scrolling, saw your post, and was interested enough to read further. but you made me go to your bio to find your linktree and oops i have already gone back to my timeline to look at the boobies in the next post. stop wasting precious bio space on DNIs and put your fuckin links there!!!
this is more for the twitter people, but: just put the link in the damn post. just say the word commission. just say it's for patreon. "wuh wuh the algorithm" it is not the damn algorithm it's that everybody hates advertising and nobody wants to retweet ads. putting slashes in the words doesn't do anything and you look like a fool. i have posted so much art that says it's 'a commission for ___" and it did exactly as good as any other art despite having the word commission in it. and by doing the slashes you just made it impossible for anybody to search your account for your commission information (which should be at the VERY LEAST in a post under your pinned tweet if you're not actively posting about them being open).
okay that went on a tangent i'm going to back to the point of putting the link in the tweet. put it in the first post. not in the first reply. don't tell them to go to your bio. put it in the post people are actually going to share. it's fine to put more information in the thread but people are only ever going to share the first post. so put the link there. you have to make it easy. putting links in tweets can hurt you algorithmically, even in the replies. so you're better off having it in the post that actually gets seen and shared. i don't want to open the tweet and scroll to get to your sales page where i ASSUME you will have put all the information anyway. put it in the tweet that just got retweeted by itself onto my dash!
also you have to share it a ton of times. i repost my shit every few hours when i'm trying to push a new product. as i said before people are not 24/7 looking at their timelines. they missed it the first time. they missed it the second time. they didn't get paid yet that week but they were after the eighth time and you reminded them again so they finally bought it. that i will still get sales every time i repost a book ad weeks after release says there are always people who missed it, or who only just showed up.
abandon your pride and shill. shills pay their bills. anyone who gets annoyed about it isn't giving you money in the first place. don't worry about looking like a sell out. don't apologize for plugging your own work. post about it often, post about it in different ways. post about it. post about it. you are not going to make money if people don't know you have something to sell them. if you want to make a career out of it, you need to act like it.
I DON'T HAVE A FOURTH POINT
kisses your forehead. i'm sorry for yelling at you. i've been making and publishing and selling adult art for the past two-three years and have got myself to the point where it pays my rent, and i got there by paying attention to what does and does not work.
please do your best to make money. i want you to make money.
as i said above i plan to write more posts on this subject, such as cover design, how to actually write sales copy, and best practices with running a patreon, but if there's things you would want to hear more about leave a comment or send an ask! i will probably be less aggressive on future topics. these are just things that have grinded my gears for a grip.
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yoylechess · 1 year
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i cat handle it that fucking movie screenshot makez me violent this movie releasez, there is going to be casualtiez i hate this so mcuh oh my god im so upset that there are probably so many talented artistz that have to make that instead of doing something inspired or original or anything else
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lackadaisycats · 2 months
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Hey Tracy! Have you heard about the new Ai called Sora? Apparently it can now create 2D and 3D animations as well as hyper realistic videos. I’ve been getting into animation and trying to improve my art for years since I was 7, but now seeing that anyone can create animation/works in just a mare seconds by typing in a couple words, it’s such a huge slap in the face to people who actually put the time and effort into their works and it’s so discouraging! And it has me worried about what’s going to happen next for artists and many others, as-well. There’s already generated voices, generated works stolen from actual artists, generated music, and now this! It’s just so scary that it’s coming this far. 
Yeah, I've seen it. And yeah, it feels like the universe has taken on a 'fuck you in particular' attitude toward artists the past few years. A lot of damage has already been done, and there are plenty of reasons for concern, but bear in mind that we don't know how this will play out yet. Be astute, be justifiably angry, but don't let despair take over. --------
One would expect that the promo clips that have been dropping lately represent some of the best of the best-looking stuff they've been able to produce. And it's only good-looking on an extremely superficial level. It's still riddled with problems if you spend even a moment observing. And I rather suspect, prior to a whole lot of frustrated iteration, most prompts are still going to get you camera-sickness inducing, wibbly-wobbly nonsense with a side of body horror.
Will the tech ultimately get 'smarter' than that and address the array of typical AI giveaways? Maybe. Probably, even. Does that mean it'll be viable in quite the way it's being marketed, more or less as a human-replacer? Well…
A lot of this is hype, and hype is meant to drive up the perceived value of the tech. Executives will rush to be early adopters without a lot of due diligence or forethought because grabbing it first like a dazzled chimp and holding up like a prize ape-rock makes them look like bleeding-edge tech geniuses in their particular ecosystem. They do this because, in turn, that perceived value may make their company profile and valuations go up too, which makes shareholders short-term happy (the only kind of happy they know). The problem is how much actual functional value will it have? And how long does it last? Much of it is the same routine we were seeing with blockchain a few years ago: number go up. Number go up always! Unrealistic, unsustainable forever-growth must be guaranteed in this economic clime. If you can lay off all of your people and replace them with AI, number goes up big and never stops, right?
I have some doubts. ----------------------
The chips also haven't landed yet with regards to the legality of all of this. Will these adopters ultimately be able to copyright any of this output trained on datasets comprised of stolen work? Can computer-made art even be copyrighted at all? How much of a human touch will be required to make something copyright-able? I don't know yet. Neither do the hype team or the early adopters.
Does that mean the tech will be used but will have to be retrained on the adopter's proprietary data? Yeah, maybe. That'd be a somewhat better outcome, at least. It still means human artists make specific things for the machine to learn from. (Watch out for businesses that use 'ethical' as a buzzword to gloss over how many people they've let go from their jobs, though.)
Will it become industry standard practice to do things this way? Maybe. Will it still require an artist's sensbilities and oversignt to plan and curate and fix the results so that it doesn't come across like pure AI trash? Yeah, I think that's pretty likely.
If it becomes standard practice, will it become samey, and self-referential and ultimately an emblem of doing things the cookie-cutter way instead of enlisting real, human artists? Quite possibly.
If it becomes standard industry practice, will there still be an audience or a demand or a desire for art made by human artists? Yes, almost certainly. With every leap of technology, that has remained the case. ------------------ TL;DR Version:
I'm not saying with any certainty that this AI blitz is a passing fad. I think we're likely to experience a torrential amount of generative art, video, voice, music, programming, and text in the coming years, in fact, and it will probably irrevocably change the layout of the career terrain. But I wouldn't be surprised if it was being overhyped as a business strategy right now. And I don't think the immensity of its volume will ever overcome its inherent emptiness.
What I am certain of is that it will not eliminate the innate human impulse to create. Nor the desire to experience art made by a fellow soul. Keep doing your thing, Anon. It's precious. It's authentic. It will be all the more special because it will have come from you, a human.
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zeldasnotes · 1 year
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Mars In The Signs’ 💫
”All warfare is based on deception. Hence, when able to attack we must seem unable. When using our forces, we must seem inactive. When we are near, we must make the enemy believe we are far away. When far away, we must make him believe we are near. Hold out baits to entice the enemy; feign disorder and crush him.” -Sun Tzu. The Art of War.
-Based on people ive met’-
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MARS IN ARIES
These people have a tendency to walk fast. They might be extremely easily irritated in general but especially by slow people. Never walk infront of these people if you are gonna walk slowly. They might turn red easily, especially when irritated. Ive noticed them to lack patience when it comes to people they consider stupid. The best part of these people is that they are all up in your face when angry unless they got Mars aspecting Neptune. They wont pretend to be fine and later plan your revenge like a Scorpio Mars, no these people are straight and honest. They might also be easily angered but they also forget it just as fast. Physically they might look athletic even if they dont work out and they usually have the most amazing eyebrows and gorgeous lips. The headshape is usually very beautiful and prominent and especially the hairline. They can have a very angry walk so people might mistake them for being in a mood. Most Aries Mars people ive met had a love for animals. This is a cardinal Mars and cardinals value respect. Aries Mars have a hard time being patient with people they dont respect.
MARS IN TAURUS
These are the little kids who tell their parents they want to sell some of their toys for money. Super good with money. From a young age. Probably started saving early. These people usually have gorgeous skin and gorgeous necks. Model looks. Very soothing voices too. Their bodies seem to be very nice and the fat on their bodies is evenly distributed. They are very good at getting money even without having a job, but most times they work from a young age. These people are the most likely to only own brand name stuff not because of shallow reasons but because these people care about worth. They see instantly what something is worth. They will feel know instantly when a fabric is of bad quality. These people dont get angry easily but when they do they can hold a grudge for a very long time since they are a fixed Mars. These people have a softness to them that makes them very popular with their prefered sex. Usually known for having style or being good looking.
MARS IN GEMINI
These people use their mouth as a weapon. They know what to say to get to you. Very sneaky. They can be especially good at coming up with sneaky comments so that you will know they are dissing you but nobody else in the room will notice. They have something young and teenage like to their appearance and personality. Might use a lot of slang or a lot of funny phrases. They have this ”naughty” expression like they have a secret but they wont tell. The nose can be very pointy and there might be this bird like quality to them. They usually have a very youthful voice with a high pitch. There is a tendency to gossip here tho, especially when they dont like someone and if their Mars is very afflicted they might lie for fun or gossip just for the same of gossiping, so This can be a real mean girl placement, especially since these people are ”forever young”. There is this flirty quality to them even when they dont mean to people might thknk they are flirting. They are good at the social game, especially at small talk which makes them a lot of fun to be around. People tend to underestimate them because they come across as so funny and happy go lucky all the time that you dont notice how calculating they can be.
MARS IN CANCER
What I love about these people is that they are loyal and the ones most likely to defend you when you are not there to defend yourself. But they can be very passive aggressive. These people might have some intense moodswings because of their sensitivity. They can be very passive aggressive and very rude when in a mood. The interesting part with these people is that they dont like aggression and will avoid it when it comes to themselves but when it comes to defending someone else they are way more aggressive. Its like messing with ”their people” brings out the crazy in them. can have a curvy look even if not curvy. Like they just look ”plump”. Very sweet and they usually have sweet voices. The best at comforting someone. They usually have a good looking breast area. They can have very sensitive skin especially skin thats sensitive to being in the Sun. Might have a lighter skin tone than others from the same cultural background, even when living in a warm country. They like familiarity and might have had the same friends since they were little kids while other people change company a lot during the years. Super nostalgic and you can see how they completely light up when they bump into an old acquaintance from old times. They never forget a person.
MARS IN LEO
These people are the kings of the jungle and that is seen on how they dress and in how they walk. They have amazing style. These people value popularity and appearance but dont mistake me, they are not shallow at all. Loyal and protective over those they love like a true lion. Their ego can become an issue tho. They love being the center of attention and might make jokes and act a little silly to make sure they are. If Mars is very afflicted there is a risk of them making a joke of someone else to draw focus to themselves and to feel big. They might make some innappropriate jokes in group settings to show whos the king of the jungle. But most times these people are quote amazing and if mixed with positive aspects can be extremely loyal and a real knight in shining armor. Their hair is important to them and tied to their ego so these people make sure to always have freshly cut hair, or they can be the type to never cut their mane because they want it as long as possible. A lot of them are on the curvy side from what ive noticed. Might come across as very bitchy or arrogant at first sight but as soon as they start talking you hear how kind they are. They love brand name clothes. If they feel threathened or sad they will act arrogant.
MARS IN VIRGO
Ive noticed that these people are very picky with their appearance. AND others. But Im a virgo so I understand. They are very helpful tho and will do anything to help you out in a situation if they really like you. They want to ”fix” people. The kind of person to start cleaning someone elses room. They usually look younger than they are and they look clean and fresh. You can see on their appearance of perfectionistic they are. There is this ”prude” quality to them. They look like they would never do something crazy, but they would. They look like they would be disgusted if you did something innapropriate infront of them. These people have sensitive stomachs and needs to be very careful with what they eat. They have great work ethic because they have a strong need to feel productive. They tend to have very clear skin and tend to be on the petite side. They have a hard time with anger because they dont know how to express it, its not that they are scared its just that they are not the kind of person to start screaming and they dont like to show emotion. So they usually end up nitpicking instead. Ive heard a lot of these people mention someones appearance when angry. Or say something hurtful just like Gemini Mars do. The more insecure they are the more picky they become towards others.
MARS IN LIBRA
These people do not like conflict and confrontation which is why they can be very passive aggressive. The kind of person to quietly say something rude and then be like ”oh no nothing” when you asked them what they said. Some people with this placement can start to hate this quality about themselves and start acting all overly aggressive to not be seen as scared but it only looks worse honestly. This placement is just not made for aggression and beef at all unless aspecting pluto. These people tend to have a beautiful and social aura that makes them well liked. They have a very alluring walk and very feminine movements. They are romantic and prefer to be in a relationship. Ive noticed they tend to be very ”perfect” socially and personality wise, they are not too shy but not ”too much” either, they just are. Not too polite and not rude either. Perfectly balanced. And they come across as super friendly. They usually have really nice skin. The downside to this placement is that they can have a hard time confronting people and a hard time picking sides, they dont want to upset anyone: So dont count on them to stand up for you or to help you fight someone unless they got like a Cancer Moon or something, because they wont.
MARS IN SCORPIO
These people have a very strong need to put people in their place for any minor inconvenience. They never forget when someone disrespects them. This is the ”they must be destroyed” placement. I bet Stewie from Family Guy would have this placement. They usually have darker tones to hair and skin no matter cultural background. Usually darker skin around the eyes. There is this intense energy to them like they constantly need physical outlet. Might look like they will explode in any second. These people are usually not physically aggressive at all tho, they are the kind of people who will email your boss to get you fired. They want you to suffer long term. They know that throwing a fit will only make them look bad. In their younger years they can be very fake and manipulative just for fun because being sneaky makes them feel powerful and power is extremely important for them. They are social climbers too. Being mad at someone awakes a very nasty side of these people. Anger consumes them. These people are known for being very good in bed but I actually think its more their sexual energy making them come across like that and not the sexual act itself. Not saying they are NOT good in bad, just saying sexual energy which these people possess a lot of makes someone come across as better in bed than they actually are.
MARS IN SAGITTARIUS
These people can become very reckless when angry because Sagittarius is a sign that does not think about consequences. Ive noticed that these people have this ditzy ”bimbo” aura like they dont know what they are doing which makes them charming. This is dangerous to others tho because nobody will see these people coming. They come across as dumber than they are. But these people can be very vengeful and very aggressive when angered, remember that the sign is literally holding a freaking longbow ready to shoot. When they get angry they get really angry and they have no problems with confrontation. These people can easily be recognized by their amazing legs and butt. They are usually very athletic and this is seen specially on their legs. They love to walk or run. I know some Sagittarius Mars people who seriously walk everywhere instead of taking the car. Almost always good looking and super charming. And this is not the polite kind of charming. Its more the ”I dont know what im doing” kind of charm like Neptunians have. They have a tendency to be very clumsy tho but this only make them even more funny. They usually prefer a partner from a different cultural background than them. And they learn new languages very fast.
MARS IN CAPRICORN
These people are usually calm from what ive noticed but they vare A LOT about social status. Dont trash their name ever. These people are attracted to status and power. They know how society works and they know how to get respect. Respect is extremely important for you. They are very impressed by well respected people. They have this calm and collected charm and behaviour, they behave almost like they were trained like the people from royal families are. Everything from how they greet you to how they sit makes them look well off. They are usually very money oriented and just like Taurus Mars they get their first job at a young age. This is the placement most likely to be the boss of a company. They are high achievers and only want the best of everything. They want the best job, the best education, the latest clothes, the fastest car, the finest wine and the most popular partner. They can come across as cold but they are not, they just dont have time for drama because they are busy taking over the world. They are very reliable and if they say they will do something they will. Physically they tend to have attractive bone structure and they are always well groomed. They take good care of themselves because they know how shallow this world is. They know how this world works. They know how to play the game. Tend to come across as older than they really are.
MARS IN AQUARIUS
Mars in Aquarius can be very argumentative because they think outside the box, but sometimes the need to be different is taken too far and they start talking back only to talk back. This is still one of my favorite placements because they are humanitarian and very open minded. But if afflicted they can become the opposite instead. They are free and they do what they want and like who they like. They wont dislike you just because other people dislike you(unless they have capricorn influence). They are rule breakers which is what makes them so fun but this can also make them dangerous. These people turn cold when angry and they have no issues with breaking the rules to get what they want. Its easy for them to detach and it can even be their coping mechanism when life gets hard. They absolutely love anyone and anything that stands out. Ive noticed so many Aquarius Mars people who got android instead of iphone btw. Since they are a fixed sign they will hold a grudge no matter how carefree they might be otherwise. These people love a good debate, they are very intelligent and they love to show it. If afflicted or conjunct Mercury they can be a real besserwisser. They have a very striking appearance. And can have a very penetrating look to the eyes.
MARS IN PISCES
These people can be very shy which is one of their cutest qualities. They do have a tendency to lose themselves in a dream and focus too much of that willpower into something that wont happen. Physically there is something very cute about them like Heath Ledger. Like this cute fluffiness to them. They are very romantic and a lot of them started dating early but probably online because of the shyness. They are very sensitive and prefer to stay away from aggressive people unless they have Mars aspecting pluto. These people can lack sense of reality and see other people as worse than they actually are. Ive seen men with this placement have beef with women because they were afraid of other men. People with this placement unfortunately stay in relationship where they are not treated right for too long because they refuse to let go of the fantasy. Sex with these people can be addictive because they are so gentle and sweet and make you feel love, i dont know how gen z pisces mars people act tho since they have it square pluto. These people can make you feel so beautiful and cared for. Some people with this placement can be VERY passive aggressive and instead of fighting you themselves might get someone else to do it. They are very likely to fight using other people. They might go for a partner whos very dominant and who can do the heavy lifting in the relationship.
House placement and aspects to Mars are not taken inte consideration in this post so not everyone will relate. ✨
©️ 2023 Zeldas Notes
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celeryb1tch · 1 month
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spencer reid x student!reader
18+! this post contains nsfw content
when spencer gets home from work he finds that you haven’t finished your essay, so he tries to ease your mind.
content: lots of pet names, fem!reader, you’re getting an arts degree lol, age gap but not too intense since this is early-ish seasons spencer, slight degradation at the end, reader orgasm, oral and fingering (r! receives), overstim, forced orgasm.
(i’m literally gay but i’ve been so delusional and in love with this fictional man lately i had to write something to get it out of my system!!!)
when your boyfriend came home from work, tie loose and satchel abandoned on the kitchen counter, you felt a wave of embarrassment flush you. you were still working on the same essay you had been last night; the one spencer made you promise you’d finish today.
“how is my pretty girl?” he asked, laying back beside you on the couch. when he leaned over to kiss you chastely, your stomach churned and you shut your laptop quickly.
you could feel hot tears start to pool in your eyes, biting back the sob you so desperately needed to get out. spencer took one look at your face and sighed, wrapping an arm around you.
“oh, baby. you didn’t finish it?”
“i tried!” you protested, your eyes squeezed shut to avoid seeing his disappointed face. “please don’t be mad at me.”
spencer’s gentle hand cupped your cheek, running his thumb across it lightly. “look at me, angel. i’m not mad.”
the floodgates opened when you finally dared to look at him, seeing his mouth pressed in a flattened line. tears streaked your face and it only added to the embarrassment. your boyfriend was a capable man, and here you were crying because you couldn’t finish a stupid essay before he got home from his 9-to-5.
he tried to hold you closer, but you struggled against him. you didn’t deserve his comfort or his sympathy. he settled for running his free hand through your hair soothingly. “hey, just talk to me. what went wrong, can i help?”
you shook your head, fighting through a hiccupped sob to answer. “i couldn’t find the last source i need. i was sifting through articles for like four hours, and i just gave up.”
ever the problem solver, spencer smiled down at you softly. “okay, let me take a look. you know i have fairly good research skills, they’re kinda required for my job.”
“you don’t get it!” you huffed, frustration evident in your voice. “you go to work all day and i can’t even find one source. one! i shouldn’t need your help for everything.”
recognition flashed in his eyes, and then he really pulled you in. it was useless to relent, you could feel the determination in his touch. he shushed you softly, one hand wrapped around you firmly while the other drew patterns on your back. when your breaths slowed and your sobs subsided, he pulled back to hold you at arms’ length. “baby, you are one of the smartest people i know.”
you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, and spencer grabbed your chin to ensure you couldn’t look away.
“i wouldn’t lie. no one i know is as sensitive as you are, as empathetic and in touch with their emotions. that’s what makes you so good at this program. i certainly couldn’t complete your degree.”
and you knew how bad at concealing the truth your boyfriend was, so reluctantly you believed him. “thank you,” you just about whispered.
his eyes cast pure adoration on you, even as your tear-stained cheeks were red and raw. “your incredible brain is one of the reasons i fell in love with you. so if you can’t find anything, there must be a reason. could you please just let me take a look?”
spencer had indisputably won you over, one arm still holding you to his side as he opened your laptop on his own lap. you relaxed into him, head pressed to his chest where you could hear his heart beating perfectly. with a hum, he scanned your tabs in a matter of seconds, scrolling to the bottom of the search result page at a speed the computer could barely keep up with. “i know what it is, but you’re not going to be happy.”
lifting your head, you squinted at your boyfriend inquisitively.
“you were typing the date wrong, honey. the last two numbers were flipped.”
you felt that feeling of incapability rush through you again, your eyes stinging in preparation to cry. but spencer was right there to prevent you from shutting down, hand on your head passing slow strokes in comfort.
his lips hitched into a small sympathetic smile when he looked down at you. “my poor girl, worked yourself up so hard your brain stopped working. too much essay writing this week.”
and of course, he was right. you’d been running yourself ragged recently trying to keep up with deadlines, not to mention the extra work you’d taken on early to prevent overwhelm for finals. when you’d told him your plan, spencer had advised against it. he didn’t want you sacrificing your sanity now for a bit more time with your boyfriend in a few months. but never not supportive, he relented and instead helped you draft a schedule to complete everything.
you couldn’t feel too stupid with spencer’s sweet voice telling you that you weren’t. “it’s not even due until next week, remember? i just wanted you to finish it tonight so i could take you out to dinner,” he confided sheepishly. “you’ve been working so hard, i wanted to reward you.”
despite knowing it was physically impossible (as spencer reminded you often), you could feel your heart swell from the overwhelming love you felt for your boyfriend. you pecked kisses all over his face incessantly until he swatted you away, blushing crimson from the unexpected affection. “okay, where are we going?”
spencer hummed mischievously in faux thought, tucking your wild hairs back from your face. “you didn’t finish your essay, so i actually think it’s only fair to punish you. at least before i take you out anyway.”
a heat bloomed in you, both in your cheeks and between your legs. it was rare that your boyfriend was anything but tooth-achingly sweet with you, saving his more dominant side for certain circumstances. apparently this was one of them. “oh, really? how are you gonna punish me, sir?”
he pulled you into his lap, mouth finding your neck immediately. “if you’re going to be stupid, i might as well treat you like you are. i know how much you like it when i call you a dumb slut, despite the fact that we’re both aware of how intelligent you are.”
your core ached with need, fluttering at his words. “that’s kinda fucked up, huh? i shouldn’t want that.”
“actually, it’s fairly common, especially for women with a high amount of stress in their everyday lives. most people enjoy some form of degradation and or praise when having sex.”
“spencer,” you groaned. his beautiful brain always had to get in the way of the fun, not that you seriously minded.
he smiled, pressing his lips to yours again. “sorry, baby. yes, it makes you a very naughty girl.”
despite the pure love in his eyes and his touch, you felt a pang of arousal when he degraded you. it felt good to be demeaned by someone who thought so highly of you. so you let him pin you against the couch, clothes long forgotten, and relished in his nasty words as he sunk to his knees before you.
your laptop was somewhere on the ground, still open to that unfinished document. but it was the last thing on your mind when you felt spencer’s mouth trailing down your front. his fingers hooked your panties, pulling them down with a string of arousal attached. “fuck,” he grumbled. “you are a little slut, aren’t you?”
you struggled to respond as his fingers passed through your folds, thumb toying with your clit lightly. “mhm, yours.”
“that’s right, baby.” all of the showy dominance dropped for a second when he smiled up at you, that familiar twinkle of passion in his eyes. and then he ate you out.
all you could do was grip the bedsheets, small whines leaving you each time he ran his tongue roughly up your clit. he’d take a moment to kiss your inner thighs, slipping two fingers inside to hit that sweet spot when he wasn’t lavishing it with his mouth. it wasn’t long before you were on the edge, feeling the knot snap in your stomach. with a start, you gasped through your orgasm, spencer’s hand finding yours to soothingly stroke his thumb across your knuckles. but as your breaths slowed, he didn’t.
“spence, i’m done,” you panted, hand gripping his hair.
“no you’re not.”
with a roll of your eyes, you tried to pull your hips away to no avail. his fingers were still pumping into you at a relentless pace. his head raised to meet your eyes, slick across his lips. he looked wild like this, disheveled, so different from your normal boyfriend, who was almost too sweet for his own good. “i told you this was a punishment.”
even knelt between your legs, this spencer was in complete control. his gaze was locked on yours, watching every tiny movement when he skimmed his thumb across your clit again. your core reignited when you realized what was going on. he was going to force you to cum again.
“please, too much” you whined, free hand pushing the top of his head away in a superficial effort. you couldn’t think properly with the intensity of the overstimulation.
spencer licked his lips, voice gravelly in a tone it only reached when he was purely aroused. “you can take it, honey. i know you can be a good girl for me. don’t you wanna be good?”
you nodded silently. there wasn’t much you could do but let him fuck you stupid.
“that’s it. gonna make you dumb, yeah? i’m gonna fuck you until you can’t think.” his head dipped down, resuming his wet, sloppy kisses to your clit. and with the combined effects of his words and actions, you were cumming again quickly.
you were unabashedly moaning now, jaw slacked open and eyes screwed shut. you were far past the point of caring what you looked like to the man furiously devouring you between your legs. your hand gripped his tighter, feeling his fingers pound a bit harder in acknowledgment.
your second orgasm felt like being catapulted into the atmosphere. it was sharper, practically knocking the air from your lungs. it took you a few moments to stop panting.
spencer grinned up at you, a sight for sore eyes in your clouded vision. “thinking about anything, baby?” he asked. and when he only received a small shake of your head, “good.”
his mouth returned to your core, soft kitten licks causing you to twitch and wince away. he squeezed your hand firmly, giving you a stern look. “only cleaning you up this time, promise.”
once you weren’t dripping arousal down your thighs, spencer pulled you onto him when he sat back down on the couch. all you could focus on were his warm, strong hands tracing sequences on your skin. he loved to imagine binary code, mapping it out on you because he knew the motion calmed you down.
you were barely conscious, brain buzzing like tv static in the post-sex bliss. you heard spencer chuckle to himself before saying, “so i think we’re getting takeout.”
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kathaynesart · 7 months
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Replica Anniversary DTIYS!
Well, it was one year ago today that I started Replica!  It’s been a wonderful experience so far and I wanted to do something fun to show my appreciation to you all!  So in celebration I want to do my very first DTIYS, but we’re going to do this one a little differently. 
YOUR MISSION: to design a comic cover for the upcoming Replica Holiday Special that is all about the birth of Casey Jr:
The year is 2028, eight years before the start of Replica.  The Central Park Colony is still going strong and the turtles now must protect an expecting Cassandra Jones from the very people they are sworn to defend. 
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As far as theme that is entirely up to you!  I’ve always found comic covers to be fun because they don’t necessarily have to show what happens in the actual story. So if you want Casey Senior holding up Junior on Pride Rock, Lion King style?  That’s great. You want to do an epic pose of the turtles battling Krang while trying to defend the Caseys?  Perfect.  You want to have Casey Junior bursting out of a Krang’s stomach like a Xenomorph???  Okay weird, but I’ll accept it so long as it’s not too gory!  Also the cover doesn’t  have to be Casey centric, I just want to see what you all come up with! (Note: please no NSFW art)
I have included character sheets and some visual development as reference for how the characters will look at this point in the story (though you do not need to strictly follow it. Feel free to give it your own artistic twist).  I will also include a PNG of the logo in case you have a vision for how you want it to be incorporated. Note you don’t have to use the logo but if yours is picked as the winner I will be putting a logo in there somewhere!
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PRIZES: 3rd Place: an OC of yours will get to be a bg character in Replica (note the character cannot be an AU version of one of the main cast for obvious reasons). 2nd Place: a black and white commission of one character of your choosing. 1st Place: your cover front and center in the Replica lineup (with credit of course) as well as a 1-2 character commission w/ color (please no nsfw requests for either commission). 
DUE DATE: NOVEMBER 19 (gives you all 2 months)
IMPORTANT: please use #replica DTIYS hashtag for easy search Also please DM me with your finished cover on Tumblr (otherwise I might miss it!)
NOTE: while not mandatory you’ll probably want the piece to be around the typical comic cover vertical 2:3 ratio (10x15" for example).
DISCLAIMERS:
I’ve never done an event like this before so I’ll admit I’m a little nervous.  Don’t know if this will even gain any traction but I just want people to have good time and get creative :) 
This is all just for fun so please do not push yourself too hard!
Let me know if you have any other questions and have fun!
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Text
Untitled
[jungkook x reader]
"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."
Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.
A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!
-
Jungkook is at odds with himself.
Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead.
The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. Besides, it would be too late to back out now. He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.
He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.
This is not good.
The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility, makes him sweat more.
Fuck.
He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?
Ah, Taehyung, he remembers.
"You're Jungkook, right?"
Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.
Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.
"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.
"That obvious, huh?" A dry chuckle following. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally finds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura.
Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"
No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung, but the real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class is because of you.
The rest, he let Jin fill it out.
But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.
Jungkook sways on the balls on his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.
Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your spot as you lay out your tools on your table.
"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—pretending he wasn't caught staring at you.
Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.
Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.
Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.
Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.
You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.
Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.
You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.
That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.
He holds his growing smile at bay.
-
The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. But, you never rise from your seat.
It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.
Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.
"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You plead, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.
Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."
You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—
"He can go. I just need—"
The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."
Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.
Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.
"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"
"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.
Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?
He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.
Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.
"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.
Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.
"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.
Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.
Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.
Taehyung sighs.
He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.
“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.
This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.
However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.
Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.
"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.
Yes.
A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.
Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.
-
"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.
You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.
Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.
You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.
Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.
Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.
"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.
You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after, if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.
You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.
Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.
"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.
You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.
"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.
Jungkook walks past you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.
It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.
"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.
Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.
In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.
You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.
Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.
"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.
He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.
Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.
This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.
A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide in your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.
You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.
"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.
Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?
You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.
Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.
"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.
"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.
"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.
"You know you really have pretty eyes."
If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.
To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.
Until he says that.
Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.
"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.
"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.
"Y/N, I'm not following."
You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.
You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"
You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.
But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.
"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.
It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.
This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?
-
Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.
You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.
Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.
You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.
"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.
You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."
"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."
You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."
At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"
You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."
Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.
"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."
"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.
"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."
"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”
Oh, fuck.
-
>> Still Untitled
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vexwerewolf · 9 days
Note
why is it that we only have like two licenses from any mech producer that’s a good guy? For a game where like there are clear good and bad guys (even if who you play isn’t necessarily linked to that) it seems strange to me that the only loot and XP you get is… more benefits from the bad guys
I can tell you the answer, but to do so, we're gonna have to talk about a completely different TTRPG.
If you've read @makapatag's truly excellent Filipino martial arts TTRPG Gubat Banwa (and if you haven't, here it is), you may notice that every single character class description (with one notable exception) ends with one of these babies:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I am not Makapatag, and I cannot write with quite as much grace and eloquence as he can, but I will try:
If you choose to become a Lancer, ask yourself why you mock the name of peace with these weapons of war. You call yourself a saviour, but your steed was forged from the murder of a world. You stride across the sky in a colossus built in your own image, so why are you too cowardly to give it your face? Why do you believe these machines of death can preserve life?
It is important to note that the admonitions in Gubat Banwa are not just there to make you feel bad; they are there as legitimate questions. The Sword Isles have seen so much blood, death and tragedy. Wars are not glorious and killing is not a game. So, knowing all of that, why have you taken up this discipline - no matter how noble and virtuous it might claim to be - to shed more blood, to bring more death, to write more tragedy? What could possibly drive you to this? What need is so great that you must kill?
The thing with Gubat Banwa is that there are legitimate answers to these questions! There are bad people doing bad things, and some of them will not be stopped with words or kindness. Sometimes, as sorrowful as it is, killing is the correct choice to prevent greater suffering and deeper tragedy - but adding less misery and death to the world is still adding some amount of it. Even the most necessary wars will drench the ground in the blood of the innocent.
A sword is a tool meant to kill humans; while it can be used for other things, it is not well-suited to anything other than this. A mech is, in its most basic essence, just a very complicated sword: it's usually used on things larger than a person, but it's still a tool built to kill.
So why have you taken up this path? Humanity was saved from the brink of extinction and has created wondrous technologies like printers, cold fusion and mind-machine interface, and yet you use them to play soldier in a giant metal man. Why do you choose to take up this machine of death, built by the greedy and pitiless? Why do you think these machines can ever make things right?
Because sometimes, despite everything, they can.
Warhammer 40K shows an awful world full of monsters and monstrosity, and in the darkest moments of its history, Lancer's world looked just as bleak, but Lancer's world differs in one crucial way. Warhammer's world has long given up trying to be better, but Lancer's world never did. Lancer's world kept insisting a better world is possible, and it used what tools it had to make it so.
Sometimes the correct choice, no matter how bitter it may seem, is to kill someone. When you need to do this, a sword is a perfectly good choice for the job.
If you find yourself discomforted by the fact that all the people you can buy mechs from are corrupt and immoral - good! You have correctly engaged with the text. You have understood that the sort of people who would make giant walking death machines and sell them for profit are not good people. But you still have a job to do, and you need the correct tools, and those people have them.
Lancer is not a game about a perfect world - it is a game about a deeply flawed and imperfect one that does not let its imperfection stop it from trying. You have to try to make a better world, even with imperfect tools made by unpleasant people.
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kneelingshadowsalome · 9 months
Note
König shaving the readers 🐱 while making eye contact....
👄 *bites bottom lip*
I go feral for your writing my dear ❤️‍🔥
"Stop squirming."
Your legs are slightly shaking from the wide spread they are forced into to accomodate a giant between them. The said giant places a large, warm palm on your inner thigh to punctuate his command – and open you up even more.
"Please be careful," you plead as if this wasn't your idea in the first place: to have König shave your pussy with one of his knives.
You were sure he would say no because it's dangerous, but it turns out your shy request was too delicious to refuse. Other men would've probably looked at you like you're a freak and told you to shave it yourself, but König merely tilted his head and told you he would need more than one knife to do it: a big one for larger areas and a few smaller blades to finish.
"Who do you think I am?" He grunts, slightly insulted. You know he's a master when it comes to knives, you would trust this man with your life, but now that he's there, wielding a blade so close to your delicate folds, you're not so sure... What if something slips?
But König is extremely careful, and extremely gentle. This man handles his duties with obsessive dedication, so why would this be any different? And besides, you're not work, you're the love of his life.
He has fallen into some sort of a flow state with what must be two of his favorite things: a sharp, deadly blade and a soft, inviting pussy. You can do nothing but bite your lip as he shaves you with a razor-sharp focus. The knife doesn't hurt you at all: actually, it feels like he's caressing your skin with a feather.
Every once in a while he gives you a glance, probably to see how you're doing. Being on display like this for him is more than enough to make your heart flutter, but it's those dark, heated looks that make you wet.
"There... Endlich fertig." He eventually rises from between your legs and leans back to examine his work with silent approval in his stare. Then he gets a warm, wet towel to wipe you clean, and admires you once more, like your freshly shaved pussy is a work of art.
His work of art.
"Pretty," he concludes, then looks at you with another trademark flash that usually precedes a good wrecking. You squirm again, merely from that horny, promising stare fixed on you from beneath the darkness of his mask. Even your thighs start to drift closed; it's simply a reaction to him being so obsessed with you. You don't even know whether it's born from the instinct to hide your vulnerable parts from a predator or because you know it will drive him crazy when you play a little hard to get.
"Keep them open," he orders, his voice dropping a note or two. You obey immediately; you wouldn't even dream of rejecting him. You only look at him with wide, love-filled eyes as he starts to lift the mask.
You should've known he wants a taste after looking at your throbbing, wet cunt – the one he just called pretty – from up close for solid 15 minutes. You can play hard to get as much as you want, but your pussy always gives you away. It's almost dripping by now, and answers him with another wink as the familiar pair of cruel lips and a brutally scarred jawline are revealed from behind the rising veil of darkness.
And god... He's smiling.
"Have to get my reward, eh?"
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azsazz · 3 months
Text
Midnight Muse (Part 15)
Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]
Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.
Warnings: Mentions of throwing up, doesn't actually happen.
Word Count: 4,008
[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Masterlist]
Notes: ENJOY. Also, someone plz tell me they got tagged this time 😭
_________________________________________
Everything fucking hurts.
Your head is throbbing like someone is repeatedly hitting you with a hammer. You can’t even open your eyes because the dots of light in your vision are swimming in circles, and you’re pretty sure if you crack your eyes open and squint into the room you’ll surely lose the contents of your stomach, which is still mostly alcohol from last night.
You groan in agony because it’s the only thing you can do. Curling in further on yourself, you tug the covers up over your head, trying to block as much of the sun, creeping steadily in through the windows, as you can.
A deep inhale to try and ease your stomach brings along the scent of freshness; like night-chilled mist and cedar. The smell is so perfectly balanced, familiar and fresh in your aching lungs that it almost lulls you back to sleep. It’s effortlessly masculine and with another luxurious inhale, your brain connects the scent to its familiarity. It’s the same as the soap you’d used when you were forced to stay the night at the apartment next door, while Feyre and Rhysand had been having their public nudy show in your living room.
You want to snuggle into it, wallow in its comfort all day, but your mind is quickly catching up to you, running that specific thought back a second time, but slower.
It smells like the same soap you’d used when you were at Azriel’s apartment after the rainstorm. 
Your eyes snap open and your body jolts into an upright position that makes your stomach roil, shoving your head down between your knees.
Fuck. You drank way too much last night.
You blink away the bleariness, the dizziness from your vision, staring down at your lap. You’re still wearing the clothes you’d ambled over to Cassian’s party in, and the fabric sticks to your skin uncomfortably. You feel like shit all around, sick from the alcohol, dirty from the night spent dancing and sweating, and you’re pretty sure your breath smells like you’d licked the floor of the local dive bar.
Another blink brings the sheets into focus, certainly ones that are not yours. These are a deep charcoal color, softer and smoother than anything you’ve ever touched. The thread count must be in the thousands. The mattress beneath your aching body feels like a cloud, and all of the effort that went into curating such a lovely bed surely shouldn’t be wasted.
You’re impressed for all of a few seconds until you lift your head and realize where you are.
Azriel’s room.
It’s easy to tell because your memories of last night slowly roll in like flipping through pages of your sketchbook.
“Look,” Cassian grunts as you stumble again and he has to put you on your feet again. He’s faring slightly better than you right now, but only because there are women to flirt with. “I know our friendship is still kind of new, but if you keep hanging all over me like this you’re going to scare away the ladies.” 
You can’t help but to laugh. It feels good, so good that your chest aches with it. Your cheeks are red with drink, and Cassian hasn’t ever seen you grinning so much. 
It kind of scares him.
“Where are your keys?” he continues, his hands warm on your hips where he’s trying to keep you from falling flat on your face. Maybe that last shot you’d taken together had been one too many. “Can I pat down your pockets?”
“I know you wanna feel me up, Cass,” you slur playfully, and his name sounds snake-like, with the way you drag out the S.
“Of course I do, (Y/N), any man would be stupid not to want you,” he comments but his words don’t register because the floor is slipping out from under your feet again.
“Feyre has the keys,” you hiccup. Then, “Are we on a roller coaster? The room is spinning.”
Cassian curses, poking his head out of the crowd to search for your missing roommate. She’s with Rhys, no doubt, but he doesn’t see them in the mass of bodies crowding his apartment. What he does see are a lot of disappointed, single women.
He gestures to you and then slices his hand under his chin in a cutting motion, signaling that he’s not with you, even though you’ve wilted against his chest, rubbing your cheek into the soft fabric of his shirt. Cassian watches his message land, their eyes sparkling in intrigue again, and he doesn’t care, he needs to get you somewhere safe so he can take that pretty brunette and her friend to his room.
The safest place in the apartment he knows is Azriel’s room.
“Oh my fucking Gods,” you groan, holding your head when your curse rings in your ears. Of course you’re in Azriel’s room, because you’re fated to end up in situations that will make him hate you even more.
Slowly, you shove the blankets away, slipping your legs over the edge of the bed. The good news is, you feel like you’ve slept for a hundred hours. The other good thing is that you didn’t throw up anywhere in his room that you can see, or smell. 
The bad news is that you don’t know where Azriel is.
But at least he’s not currently here to witness you rising from the dead.
Blindly, you reach for you phone, patting across the table next to the bed. In the back of your throat sits a lump that you consciously work to swallow down. Later, you might regret not purging the rest of the sickness from your body, but the last place you want to do that is here, in Azriel’s room. What the fuck did you end up drinking last night? You remember the flaming shots and Cassian throwing out a partygoer who looked awfully familiar.
Then there had been Mor, who had told you all about Rhysand growing up over a few drinks. The longer Cassian had forced the two of you to talk, presumably so he could sneak off to flirt with girls while you were distracted with each other, the more Rhysand’s cousin seemed to relax. Those cutting looks had turned from pinning you to your spot to glaring at any of the girls who came up to the both of you to ask about the hosts of the party.
Mor’s stories had you seeing your roommate’s boyfriend in a different light. And the embarrassing ones were even better. Like the one time they had gone sledding down the slope of Mor’s family home in Colorado. It had been a steep incline and they’d been warned many times not to go down there, but the fresh snow had been all too tantalizing not to.
Their punishment had been to walk back up the hill to the house, and when they were small the trek felt like it was ten thousand steps high. And they had to carry their sleds behind them. Rhysand had thrown up halfway and Mor had gotten sick from the tears of laughter streaming down her face afterwards.
Cassian’s words cut through the smile trying to sluice across your face. Azriel had said something about a date. Your stomach revolts but you don’t know why. The thought of Azriel missing out on one of Cassian’s parties doesn’t seem out of character for the broody man, but going on a date? This is the first you’ve heard about Azriel doing so. You know much more than you’d like to know about his roommates’ sexual lives, but you didn’t think Azriel was even open to going out. You don’t know why you care.
You don’t.
It doesn’t sound as convincing as it may have once been.
He’s ridiculously attractive, so why wouldn’t he be going on dates? He probably has a plethora of phone numbers from girls begging to go out with him. So many that it makes your teeth grind at the thought.
Your fingers connect with your phone and your head throbs at the brightness of your screen, rivaling the sun’s rays spearing through the blinds.
And then you see the time.
“Shit,” you curse, scrambling for the shoes someone had kindly taken off for you. They’re piled at the foot of the bed. 
You’re late for class.
Gods, you don’t remember the last time you drank like this. Must have been sometime last year because even with all the wine you’d consumed during your pottery painting with Feyre, Cassian, and Rhysand, you hadn’t felt this badly. This is a next level hangover.
You brace yourself when your hand lands on the doorknob to his room. There’s a lock and it’s flipped shut, so you turn it back carefully, breathing a sigh of relief when the click is quiet.
You freeze in your tracks, breath catching in your throat when you slide the door open.
Azriel is lying on the couch, his body splayed out in a long line. His shirt has risen from where he’s lifted his arm, resting it over his eyes to block the sun coming in through the windows, revealing the cut of his hips. There’s two tattoos painted on the skin that you hadn’t noticed the other night, a pair of feathered wings lining the defining muscle of his hips.
You lick your lips before realizing that in the quiet of the apartment, Azriel is fast asleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest helps give him away. That, and the fact that he’s not snarking at you or shooting daggers in your direction.
It’s your saving grace.
The coffee table shoved in front of the couch is littered with cups and rolling paper wrappers, alcohol spilled across its surface. You have no idea how the glass tabletop has survived the rowdy part unscathed, because you’re pretty sure there was one point in the night where you saw a girl standing on top of it, readying herself to fall into the crowd of people congregated in the living room.
The floor is much the same, and you feel like you’re walking a minefield as you tiptoe around questionable puddles and garbage. The stench of alcohol in the air makes your head spin, your stomach protesting and you press a hand to it, trying to comfort the ache.
You escape the apartment without waking Azriel, breathing a sigh of relief that has the remainders of your final drink swimming up your throat.
You make a run for your apartment next door, and thankfully, Feyre answers your knocking.
You don’t like the knowing look she’s wearing, but she doesn’t pester you while you make a break for the bathroom.
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
Surprisingly, it doesn’t take you long to get ready for class.
You’d told Feyre to go on ahead without you when she had knocked softly on the door while you had your head in the toilet, but the sound still clanged through your head like a gong. She was going to get coffee with Rhysand before class and asked if you wanted anything, to which you gratefully accepted.
Even though you have plans to meet Lucien at the coffeehouse for a drink, you need something now or you’re afraid that you won’t make it through the day.
As badly as you want to go and be a hermit in bed all day, you don’t want to miss your classes. Alis is bringing in another model and grading what you come up with in class, and you don’t want to be docked points for missing out. 
Your other class for the day is Art History, and you need to show up to be able to drink in as much of the different styles of art as possible.
Dressing quickly, your clothes stick to your freshly-showered skin. You shove a baseball cap over your hair because while you had the time to wash your body, your hair had been left neglected until later tonight.
Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you snag your sketchbook from your desk, shoving all of the loose papers hanging out the edges inside. It’s a haphazard job at best, but you’re already running too late for your liking, and you can organize them later.
Like as you wait for the Gods-awful elevator your apartment building has.
The queasiness in your stomach has gone down but the piece of toast you’d forced yourself to eat threatens to come right back up when you spot Azriel, his own backpack slung over his shoulder, waiting for the elevator.
You can still turn around and hide away, there’s definitely still time to—of course he’s turning around at the sound of your approaching footsteps.
His golden eyes glitter with amusement and you can’t shove away the shiver that slides down your spine like a paint filled brush as he trails you from head to toe.
“Sleep well?” He asks gruffly, and the sound of his voice makes your knees weak. Tripping on your next step, your sketchbook goes flying from your hands, spilling the loose papers you’d just stuffed in there everywhere. 
Somewhere in the back of your mind you can hear Azriel curse in surprise, but you feel the hot mortification slicing through your body. There are sketches of his hands fluttering to the ground. Ones you had drawn while working on your last project for Alis’ class, the one where you drew Leonardo’s Study of Hands. Azriel’s had been your inspiration, and there’s sketches of them in all sorts of poses, some more promiscuous than others, and you’re completely fucking mortified.
You drop to your knees, face burning red as you scoop the papers closer to you, praying that he doesn’t see. Azriel’s already crouching down with you, helping gather some of the drawings, and the fact that this is the first time he’s ever seen any of your work is overshadowed by the fact that there’s a piece of thick drawing paper right next to his boot. It’s creased from its fall, half of it turned up at an angle. You can see the wavy lines you’d tried so hard to recreate from memory. If he picks that up and looks at it you will have to transfer schools.
“Don’t touch that,” you almost screech when his fingers close around the edge of the paper. You watch it in slow motion, the clench of his jaw, the way that his eyes flick down to his hands, marred flesh fully on display. Oh Gods, you think you might throw up all over again. He thinks you mean that you don’t want him to touch your things because of his fucking hands. Your throat tightens, heart beating so fast in your chest that you’re sure it’s going to burst through your skin. Quickly, trying to rectify yourself, you plead, “No.” Your voice cracks around the lump forming but you shove past it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Azriel’s face is tight as he stands. You scramble, collecting your papers into your arms. He towers over you, even standing, and you don’t like the flicker of muscle in his jaw because he’s clenching his teeth so hard. 
You don’t like the shadows writhing through the gold of his eyes, molten with anger.
He hands out the papers he’s picked up and an apology is on the tip of your tongue. Reaching out, you’re just about to grasp them, croak out a thank you, when Azriel drops them.
You watch them flutter to the ground again. The elevator dings and the doors squeal open, but you can’t stop staring at the paper on the ground now. You swallow hard, the mortification bubbling into annoyance.
Azriel’s boots twist in your vision and he enters the elevator without another word.
Your eyes prickle but you don’t know why. The breaths you’re releasing through your nose to keep calm are harsh and shaky. Like Azriel’s hands. You need to go to class, and he can fuck off now.
You dip down and snatch the papers from the hall floor, not caring if they get crumpled in your haste. The doors of the elevator begin wheeling shut but you slip through before they can shut completely, trapping you inside with Azriel.
The tiny, metal box that grinds down the elevator shaft is filled to the brim with tension. You can feel the stiffness wafting off of Azriel’s body, though he’s leaning against the wall like he doesn’t have a care in the world, head currently buried in his phone.
Your anger emits in waves, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. What you had said came out the wrong way. You had in no way meant it in the way that you didn’t want his hands touching your work, but the way you’d seen Azriel go preternaturally still, something flash in his eyes, still makes you sick to your stomach. You want to cry, because they’re not tainted in the least. If anything, his hands are the most beautiful hands you’ve ever seen, imperfect yet so, so perfect. 
Of course he had retaliated in the way that he did. You would’ve misconstrued the comment as well, but there’s an itch on your side that tells you he didn’t have to react like that, throwing your papers back to the ground. Another misunderstanding between the two of you.
You open your mouth to speak, but there’s a screeching that’s more horrible than it usually is, and the elevator is jerking to a grinding halt.
You stumble a little, and Azriel steadies you before removing his hands just as quickly. His brows are pinched and the lights in the tiny space flicker before going out completely.
“What the fuck?” You question, pitched higher because of your nerves. You’re stuck, the elevator has stopped working and you’re stuck in it with Azriel. “Oh my Gods, we’re trapped!”
Azriel grunts, punching the buttons on the door. An emergency light flickers on, casting the metal box in a low, fluorescent light. Nothing that he’s doing works, and you’re officially beginning to freak out.
You watch Azriel try to pry the doors open, but even with the bulging of his biceps he’s no match for the metal jaws of death.
Throwing a look over his shoulder, he says, “What are you standing around for, princess? Call the fire department or something.”
“Right,” you respond weakly, pulling your attention from his muscular form. The dispatch is nice about it, sending someone your way and all you have to do is stay calm and await assistance. “Thanks, “ you reply to her, hanging up the phone and turning back to Azriel. “So we wait.”
He looks like he wants to ask more questions, but he nods instead, sinking down and making himself comfortable against the wall. Looking up at you expectantly, you sigh, dropping your bag from your shoulder and collapsing to the floor across from him.
His legs are so long they nearly stretch across the entire elevator, and you can’t help but follow the path back to his eyes, glowing as he watches you. You avert your gaze as quickly as possible.
You don’t know how long it will take for the fire department to get here, so you shoot a quick text to Feyre with your predicament, letting her know that you won’t be able to make it to class and to give your coffee away. Then you send a sad emoji because you really, really needed that caffeine.
Across from you, Azriel’s phone buzzes. He reads it, and then his eyes flicker up to yours in a glare.
“Cassian seems to think that this is funny,” he says, and you don’t know why the deep timber of his voice feels like fingers brushing across your skin. “Why did you tell them?”
“I texted Feyre,” you huff defensively. Crossing your arms over your chest, you level him with your own glare. “I don’t control who she tells.”
Azriel rolls his eyes, shutting off his screen.
It’s silent for a long time. There are no sounds coming from outside of the elevator, and you wonder if anyone has even noticed that it’s trapped. The godsdamned thing takes so long to arrive at any floor that you think most patrons take the stairs now, or give in when the elevator of doom never reached their floor.
“I’m sorry,” you blurt, mostly to break the silence. Azriel raises a straight brow and you flush. Sheepishly, you continue. “I didn’t mean what I said in the hall like that. I just—I didn’t want you to see my sketches.”
It’s the most you can give him without spilling the truth of exactly what the drawings were.
Azriel’s jaw works, and it looks like he’s contemplating something important, with the way he’s assessing you. Maybe he’s trying to read if you’re telling the truth, if your apology is sincere or not. The intensity of his eyes makes you want to pull your hat down over your own face to hide it from sight.
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He surprises you by asking.
Your lips part in shock. “What?”
“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He asks again, because he doesn't know how he can word the question any differently.
The question throws you. Azriel’s ignored your apology, and instead he’s asking what you’re doing tomorrow night? Has the elevator getting stuck somehow transported you into the Twilight Zone? Is this even really Azriel sitting here with you?
“Um…nothing?” you respond, and he quirks a brow.
“Is that a question or an answer, princess?”
“An answer. I’m doing nothing. Why?”
He shrugs nonchalantly, tipping his head back to rest against the wall, as if he’s contemplating even finishing his question. He looks ever the picture of nonchalance, but what you can’t see is the way he’s curling his fingers to stop their trembling, the rapid beating of his heart.
“I’m having an exhibition tomorrow night. Would you like to join me?”
What? You’re even more dumbfounded now than if that had been the end of the conversation. An exhibition? Tomorrow night? And he’s asking you of all people?
“Who are you and what have you done with my douchebag neighbor?” you ask, shifting in your spot.
A wry smile cracks his mouth and it makes your heart flutter. “Still here, princess.”
Your mouth twists sourly at the nickname. “Let me get this straight. You want me to go to an exhibition with you tomorrow night?”
“Yes,” Azriel nods, agreeing with the echo of his words you’ve just replayed back to him.
“Why don’t you ask your roommates to go with you?”
“They don’t know about it.”
Huh. You don’t know why Azriel wouldn’t invite Cassian or Rhysand to an exhibition he’s having. Well, you could see Cassian wreaking havoc and drinking too much champagne, but Rhys? It seems like the perfect spot for someone like him.
You mull it over, analyzing him. Azriel waits patiently as you study his eyes. The gold is bright under these lights, looking like two golden bars of sun. He’s never been easy to read, and even right now, as you’re trying with all of your might, you can’t find any flicker of anything that tells you this may be a joke.
You tut, crossing your arms over your chest to stop yourself from wringing your fingers in your lap. “Why me?”
“No one better to go with than someone I’m not trying to impress,” Azriel answers seriously. And, he has a point there. You won’t have to hold back from telling him your honest opinion of his work.
You hope that he’s terrible at art, but you have a feeling he’s anything but.
“That doesn’t give me a lot of time to find something to wear.” 
His eyes flash and you wish you knew why.
“Is that a yes?”
“It’s not a no.”
Azriel nods, and that’s that. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight, then.”
⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅
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costelloschoice · 4 months
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General Mizu headcanons -Mizu x fem!reader -sfw and nsfw headcanons + my thoughts :], kinda long? but aye, more content -pls, reminder these are my takes, and I would love to hear your in the comments <3
-comments and reblogs are appreciated <3
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Sfw:
took her awhile to open up fully to you. Like about everything- probably hide her fav food from you too
speaking of food, she probably is a terrible cook and would love if you can cook for her
I can imagine Mizu burning a pot of water
I tried to do my research and look into this, but I think Mizu is about 5'4
if you're shorter than her, she'll definitely have a confidence boost and feel she has to protect you always- she already does but...you're short and tiny...so she must
If you're taller, she's putty in your hands when you two are alone but she will still kick someone's ass for you
If you're not trained in the martial arts or any good with swords, she'll teach you
If Mizu is teaching you before you two are official, she'll be rougher and stricter with her teaching. She wants you to be the best and have a good chance to learn to protect yourself
Now if she is teaching you after you two are dating, she'll still be strict but definitely a bit more gentle
"Do it again...You almost had it, try again I know you can do this"
Nicknames for you? I feel she would mostly call you by your name, but she would also call you "my pearl" or "my dove"
Pls play with her hair plsplsplsplsplsplspls
She's a sucker for a massage due to her battles and training but only from you
but!!!!!
The first time you saw her without her male persona/ identity sent her in panic mode. You knew her as this strong, tough masculine man...but here you are, happening to stumble upon her wearing nothing and seeing her...lady parts
She already started to develop feelings for you by that time and so have you, but at the knowledge you think she's a boy. Gay stuff is already a 'no-no' to a lot of people, so would it be a 'no-no" for you??
of course not- doesn't matter if they're male or female, it's still Mizu at the end of the day
once you accept her, she truly feels seen for once
This woman will and always lay down her life for you.
She'd probably die then come back to life for you cause she loves you that much
I do feel she would be distant in the beginning. We all know how her last marriage went...She doesn't want to be hurt again
Once you show her you're in for the long run, she'll become lovable and clingy
LET HER BE FEMININE PLS PLS
She barely got to explore her feminine side with Mikio (rat bastard) cause of what happened
Dress her up and make her feel pretty <3
I have a feelign she can be really childish when comfortable with you- play wrestle with her to burn off some energy
She will want to duel with you, but never lets it go too far
If she ever pulls that same shit she did with Mikio, and she has the sword to your throat...I feel she will get flashbacks and get nervous how you'll react
but is soon pulled out of those memories when you laugh and say she wins and you kiss her <3
Nsfw
now the yummy part lol
IDC SHE'S A SWITCH
no one will change my mind, no one could ever think of changing my mind
In the Edo period of Japan, sex toys were there to use and have fun. Now, I actually looked it up and ruined my web history for this because of the shunga I saw
STRAP ON- either Mizu using it on you or you using it on her, either way it's a good time
She definitely can and will be rough and dominate. She's used to be taking control to getting what she wants
Doesn't mean she can't be soft and sensual, you are her love after all, and sex is something for both to enjoy. She would love to just be soft with you
She will spank that ass, idc
Now, like I said, I actually looked a lot of this stuff up...
Double sided dildo for the both of you to use. For her, it's almost embarrassing cause you are seeing her reactions but she also LOVES this since it's so intimate to her, so hold her hand while you two do it
Going off the last one, I feel she would be trying to cover her face or her mouth sometimes...don't let her
With that one episode, we know she's loud and her eyes roll back...it's canon...so hit her with that dumb dick and make her roll her eyes back
Tie her up...that's all
Her fingers are long and slender, good for fingering your cunt and rubbing your clit
Loves having you in her lap and fingering you late at night, especially if there are other people around. Gives her the chance to cover your mouth and whisper in your ear to tease you
"You like that?...You like the fact anyone could catch us right now, and they'd see my fingers fucking this pussy..?”
Dw you'll give her the same treatment
When you finger her, she's whiny, holding onto your other hand tightly
Praise her breast- whether you have bigger breast or not, still show love to her peaches
Kiss them, suck on them, whatever..love on them
I don't think she would ever consider sharing you with another person like ever
I can imagine her talking a big game, but your first time? She’s a wreck, she wants everything to be perfect
Yeah technically she's not a virgin but she doesn't want to mess anything up with you
Favorite position? I think she likes taking you in missionary but likes to be bent over when she subbing
After you give her sum backshots, pls give her the softest aftercare
She will be clingy after, so let her cling to you like a koala
In the end, Mizu is the best girlfriend boyfriend ever <3
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