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desceros · 4 months

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INT DISCORD - EVENING @thejudiciousneurotic: i'm drawing a comic where leo talks about how he accidentally sent someone his nudes me: oh. now i wanna write a fic where leo flirts with you by "accidentally" shooting you his nudes me: ...trade u for the comic thejudiciousneurotic: 🤝 me: 🤝 leonardo/reader, female reader, rated m

You’re having a very nice lunch with April and Casey when your phone vibrates where it rests next to your plate.

neon leon (12:41 p.m.) [image]

Oh boy. What does this goober want?

Normally, you aren’t one to check your phone while eating with others. It’s kind of rude, and you don’t get enough time with the three of you hanging out like this. But April’s busy trying to make Casey laugh so hard his drink comes out of his nose, and—and you’re curious, because it’s Leo, and he’s sent you a picture.

You open the message app, and blink. It's not a meme, or a dorky selfie, or something pretty like he sometimes finds while he's wandering about and shoots your way to share.

It’s… a picture of him. The kind that he’d usually put on his So-Shell, you note, wondering why he’d sent it to you specifically. A little bit of a suggestive pose: his arms curling in just a manner to accentuate the way his arms have been getting big lately, one leg crossed over the other to show off how long they are, fingers framing that smug smirk he gets sometimes when he—

—oh.

Oh, god.

Leo isn’t wearing his mask. Or—or anything, you suddenly realize. No wraps. No socks.

…Are these… nudes?!

Quickly, feeling your face burn hot, you look up to check in with April and Casey. They’re both still fucking around on the other side of the table. She’s tickling him, he’s giggling. Normal. Normal. They haven’t noticed that you’re a few degrees shy of combustion. Cool, cool. No one’s noticed that your best friend—friend friend just a friend!—has sent you his smoldering-hot naked body.

Quickly, you stop yourself, inhaling deep before you go too deep into it. No, that’s silly. He’s a fucking turtle. So he’s not wearing socks. Or forearm wraps. Or—Or his mask, which you’ve never seen him without before. So it’s a sexy pose in front of a mirror. It’s—It’s not anything salacious, if you don’t make it such.

You start typing, just the usual compliment that you usually give his pictures on So-Shell, maybe a fire emoji, and—

neon leon (12:41 p.m.) oops! didn’t mean to send that!

neon leon (12:41 p.m.) just uh. pretend i didn’t just accidentally send you a nude. haha :)

“Oh my god,” you quietly whimper. It is a nude.

The proper thing would be, of course, to do as he asks. Spam a bunch of junk until it disappears to the void of the past conversation. Laugh it off with him. Tell him a joke to make him feel better when he’s probably fucking mortified.

…A little like how you’re mortified the moment you tap on the picture, making it bigger.

God damn it. It’s… It’s so unfair how good he looks, you think, biting on the inside of your cheek. He’s finally hit that growth spurt Casey has warned everyone was coming, and he’s just so—so big. Towering over you easily. Putting on muscle like it’s as easy as putting on a shirt. Moving like silk through the air. Comfortable in his skin and knowing he looks good.

A fresh memory comes to mind. How the other day, he’d picked you up in one hand to snag the blanket you’d been sitting on to hand to Donnie where he’d been whining about being chilly. You’d spent the rest of the afternoon uncomfortably wet and turned on, hoping to god his sensitive turtle nose couldn’t pick up on it as he draped an arm on your shoulder for the last half of the movie and pulled you to lean into his plastron.

(...Friends cuddle, right? Totally. Friends totally cuddle.)

Plus he’s just… pretty. The way his cheekbones curve, the markings on his face cutting beautiful lines around his eyes, eyes that you can see without his mask in the way. The breath catches in your lungs as you stare into where they’re half-lidded in the picture, turning the smirk into something sultry. The smirk, framed by fingers that are long and thick and—

“Oh fuck,” you choke, clenching your teeth so hard your jaw aches.

(...Friends think about getting fingered by their friends, right?! Right?! Oh god, oh fuck—)

“You good?” April asks, finally looking away from Casey who is dabbing at his face and bellowing with agony. Oof, carbonation up the nose. Not fun.

“…I’m so good,” you tell her around the knot in your throat, fingers going tight on your phone. Gah. You have to leave now or else she’ll suss out what’s wrong and you’re pretty sure you’d rather die than admit you’re getting flustered off of Leonardo’s mess up. “Say, uh. I—I have to go to the bathroom. Right now. For a while. I’ll be back.”

You can feel her eyes between your shoulder blades as you flee her knowing eyes, quickly going into the stand-alone bathroom in the cute little café and snapping the door shut behind you. You slump back against it, whipping out your phone and looking at it a bit like it’s a ticking time bomb.

Which it kind of is, you realize with a sudden terror. You haven’t responded to him yet. He would have seen the little dots where you’d given away you were typing. That you’d had his picture in your face. He knows you’ve seen it. You’ve seen it, and time is passing while he’s sitting there, knowing there’s a fucking nuke on your screen. Oh god. Oh fuck.

Stupid sexy turtle, you think, hands trembling as you compose a very normal, very chill response. You only delete three before you settle on the last and send it.

sent (12:45 p.m.) no worries! i didn’t see anything, haha :)

neon leon (12:45 p.m.) hm. you sure? you sure took a while to respond

Oh god. Embarrassment lights your blood on fire. He knows. He totally knows. Fuck, it feels like he knows how you zoomed the fuck in and had to press your goddamn thighs together beneath the table. Swallowing thickly, you try to do as much damage control as you can.

sent (12:45 p.m.) i mean, of course i saw it. i was curious!

neon leon (12:45 p.m.) oh yeah? what were you so curious about?

sent (12:45 p.m.) i. you know. i’ve never seen you without your mask.

neon leon (12:45 p.m.) you know you can ask, right? i’ll take it off for you whenever you want.

You fumble your phone. What the fuck. Is this happening. Quickly, you look up. Yep. You’re still here. A quick pinch reminds you that it isn’t a dream. It’s quarter til one on a Saturday, and your childhood friend has sent you a nude on accident and then said that.

neon leon (12:45 p.m.) is that something you want? seeing me without my mask?

neon leon (12:45 p.m.) i’d do it. for you.

neon leon (12:45 p.m.) no wraps. no socks. no mask.

“…Holy shit,” you mutter, feeling a little dizzy. You gape, unsure of how to respond, how to fucking breathe. Then, you nearly jump out of your skin when the phone of your screen fills with a selfie of you and Leo in a photobooth at Alberto Land, feather boas and silly matching heart-shaped glasses stupid on your face.

Oh fuck. He’s calling you.

“Where are you right now?” Leo asks as soon as you answer the call, not waiting for you to find your voice, his words velvet in your ears.

Defensive at how you’re reacting, protecting your friendship with him tooth and nail, you claw out of the fog that had settled and made you stupid. You narrow your eyes at the hand dryer next to you. “…Did you actually ‘accidentally’ send me that picture, Leonardo?”

His laugh fills your ears like wine; rich, decadent, intoxicating. Warmth blooms in your chest. “Where are you, beautiful?”

That’s about as close to an admission as you’re probably going to get, you think. The pet name, familiar in shape but foreign in tone, makes your stomach dip. Licking your lips, you try one more time.

“…Why are you sending me your nudes?” you ask, air catching in your throat, voice quiet but feeling loud in the privacy of the bathroom.

“Why are you looking at them?” he responds cheekily. You bite down on the snarky response that reflexively comes to the surface; am I not supposed to, goober? There’s something glittering in the air, an invitation for something, and it makes you hesitate. Makes you look at the boundary of the lines you’ve drawn around him. Wonder what they’d look like a little smudged.

“I… wanted to see,” you admit, feeling a little breathless, wondering if you sound so. If he can tell you’re on the edge of a cliff, feeling a bit like maybe you’re ready to take a step and fall.

“See what?” he asks. Voice lower still. Umbrous. Hypnotic. Tantalizing.

“You. Without—Without your mask. Without… any of it.”

His phone ever so slightly picks up on a sensuous rumble that comes from deep inside his shell. The sound of it makes you shiver, goosebumps rising on your skin. Your eyes fall shut. It’s an easy fantasy, thinking of feeling it in your flesh.

Leo says your name. It’s not a way you’ve ever heard him do so, before. It pricks your attention, hooking into it, pulling it where he wants it. “Where are you?”

You tell him. A second later, your eyes flare with familiar blue light. Two seconds later, your back is against the bathroom door, the sound of the lock clicking loud in your ears as he reaches over and ensures no one will be interrupting.

“Leo, you—!” you gasp, the barest amount of protest that he cuts through as easily as if he’d taken his katana to it.

“I got tired of waiting. And you want to see,” he says, his fingers finding your chin and holding you in place, his mouth hovering over yours, his breath hot against where you can’t breathe. His other hand finds the curve of your hip, pulling it to meld to his own, his plastron pressing you to the door. “So look while you still can, pretty little thing. Because you’ve got about three minutes before I plan on getting my face between your legs for a long, long time.”

Later, much later, after you nearly bite through your palm trying to keep quiet through the several orgasms he easily eats out of you, after he portals you back to the lair and he pins you to that cursed mirror in his bedroom so you can see how good he looks while fucking you stupid, after he crawls over you in his sheets and slowly curls his fingers together with yours while rolling his hips to get slow and deep to drive you absolutely insane, your phone vibrates again.

This time, you ignore it, fully fucked out, completely disinterested in moving from beneath where Leo’s snoring into your shoulder, having everything you can possibly want within arm’s reach for the foreseeable future.

ayyy-pril (2:19 p.m.) lmao did you fall in?

ayyy-pril (2:19 p.m.) hellooooooo

ayyy-pril (2:21 p.m.) …since leo’s also not answering i’m guessing you’re with him. girl u Gotta let me know when you dip so i don’t worry >:T

ayyy-pril (2:21 p.m.) also. ugh. can you two just make out already? the pining is getting ridiculous. and don’t tell me i’m just imagining things again. i’m sooooo bored by your excuses

ayyy-pril (2:21 p.m.) grabbed your leftovers for you. love you ttyl byeeee

#BARGAIN COMPLETE #my fic #tmnt #rise #leonardo/reader #rating: m #i was tempted to go for the e rating but decided to leave it here. it felt sufficiently spicy as is hehe #ANYWAY ENJOY YEEHAW

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coffbeanie · 6 months

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Finally out here w a new post!! Decided to draw Brian for this AU i made a while ago-never posted about it before but i thought it would be fun to bring it back again. (since he kinda zombiefied this can be like a belated halloween post)

This is a Proxy AU i made involving Tim and Brian (from MH), Kate and Charlie (from Slender the Arrival) and Kimberly (my OC), and its also connected to my Creepypasta AU (its on my insta kinda but i never posted anything about it really here oops)

I’m gonna put some ideas I had for Brian’s character but before i put them down i wanna say that I came up w this AU before issue 3.5 of the MH comic(and if we’re being technical this has been brewing in my brain before the comic was announced oops). I haven’t read any of the comics yet and i know its still going, so as for what happened to his character I’m not too sure and I’m trying to work around that. Also I’m trying to figure out the timeline for this AU, and that includes when all this happens in relation to the end of MH, so his design is probably going to change once I determine how decayed this boy is actually supposed to be. Even so this is all just in good fun :)

-Brian is the 4th proxy to join in, after Tim, Kate, and Charlie

-While this is still Brian’s body, he lacks all of Brian’s memories, since his consciousness is in the ark. When he first comes back he doesn’t remember who he is, who Tim is, or what happened during the events of Marble Hornets.

-That being said, some memories can be triggered through muscle memory. Basically there are times where if he moves a certain way or if someone touches him a certain way, there’s a chance that he’ll suddenly remember something.

-His presence most unnerves Tim, but Brian doesn’t know how to help with this as Tim won’t tell him anything about MH or what their relationship was like before his death. This causes Kate and Charlie to be weary of him. Because of this, Brian is forced to hang out with Kimberly the most, as they’re the most “outcasted” of their little group.

-He doesn’t really feel pain, but the big bruise on his back still hurts sometimes.

-He comes back real skinny and dirty, but they clean him up and buff him back up again don’t worry :))

#my art #brian thomas #marble hornets fanart #marble hornets #brian thomas fanart #mh brian #brian mh #marble hornets au

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5ummit · 1 month

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HTP Fic Recs: Hidden Gems

Have you, like me, devoured everything in the Hydra Trash Party AO3 tag and are desperate for more? Well you may be in luck.

In honor of CATWS's 10th anniversary I’ve decided, yet again, to make a new rec list so that these gems don't get buried in my overwhelmingly extensive original rec list. This list features HTP and HTP-adjacent fics that are NOT tagged as HTP (either because the author didn't know the label existed or didn't believe it applied to their fic), making them particularly hard to find, and I think, deserving of more attention.

Many of these fics don’t have much, if any, explicit noncon, but noncon is often implied or referenced and they’re all rife with other types of dehumanization and abuse so the usual HTP warnings still apply. Read tags carefully etc.

The Making of the Winter Soldier [series] by CluckU & Mumble_Bee Relationship: Hydra Agents/WS, Zola/WS Words: 13,700

There are a small, precious collection of things he knows for certain each time he wakes in his chair: He is a weapon. A soldier. An asset. He is being molded into the Fist of Hydra. He must prove himself. Failure is not an option.

Muscle Memory by sparklingbinjuice Relationship: Rumlow & Bucky Words: 4500

It had taken five minutes of fumbling but he had eventually picked the lock. The soldier wouldn’t be back for hours. Coordinates provided by the remaining, somewhat rudimentary, tracking device installed in the titanium arm indicated that he wandered the streets on weekends – watching people, visiting libraries and museums, feeding the birds. It was all so horribly human.

Reconquer, regain, recover by werebird Relationship: Hydra Agents/WS (past) Words: 2300

Hydra had known his body better than he himself ever could. They had taken it, reshaped it, reprogrammed it. They had birthed the Winter Soldier although they had never given him life.

Taming Winter by Runlights Relationship: Rumlow & WS, Steve & Bucky Words: 91,000 Notes: terrifying bloodthirsty WS

Regardless of the intravenous set pumping warming fluids into those veins, regardless of the fact that a moment ago, the guy looked on the verge of death, the Winter Soldier was out of the chair and in front of him with two steps that happened so quickly he didn’t even have time to do more than inhale. He froze as he felt the press of his own combat knife against his throat, the bite of the blade causing blood to well and slip down his throat. This was the point where he suspected people felt fear, especially staring into those unfocused cold eyes. He only felt a twisted fascination.

The Soldier’s Kittens by exclamation Relationship: Sam & Bucky, Steve & Bucky Words: 11,300 Notes: animal abuse/death

"Sam's a really good guy," Steve said. "I think you'd like him if you spent more time with him." Bucky said nothing. He would not show any interest in Sam, just as he had not shown any interest when Steve had taken him to the animal shelter to try and get him to interact with the dogs there. He knew this trap and he wouldn't fall into it twice.

Flinching by Exorin Relationship: Steve/Bucky Words: 570

It might finally break what's left of him if Steve knew the way he's had to dig his nails into his palms hard enough to draw blood just to shape his breath into the sound of a moan.

I'm comin' up only to hold you under by anonymous Relationship: Hydra Agents/Bucky, Steve/Bucky (past) Words: 2100

They drag him out of his cell by his hair and toss him into a room full of identical guards. He lands hard on his knees, the force of the impact stuttering up his weak, tired body, and he glares up and them with all the hatred he can gather. He feels off-balance, like he does whenever he tries to carry himself now—the stump of his missing arm has a phantom weight he can't get used to, won't get used to.

Context is Everything by thedevilchicken Relationship: Hannibal/Bucky Words: 2600

"I don't understand," Bucky replied. "Recontextualize?" "Your memories of HYDRA seem…distant," Hannibal said. "The way you speak about them is as if they happened to someone else. In order to process your trauma, you must understand that they happened to you."

Never Letting the Blood Dry by BarrenPines Relationship: Rumlow & WS, Steve & Bucky Words: 2500 Notes: whipping

After the mission, there were pats on the back, expressions of congratulations and thanks, and a dozen other little niceties that made his skin crawl. He’d gotten lucky, that’s all. And he’d also defied orders, departed from his assigned task. Praise wasn’t what he deserved.

#quite a few of these have less than 1000 hits #it's such a tragedy because they're so good #please check them out and give them some love!#hydra trash party #winterbones #fic recs #bucky barnes #marvel #tenyearsoftrash #Happy CATWS Anniversary!

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factual-fantasy · 2 years

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20 ask things :-)

(Comic in question)

So the funny thing about the creature in the last few panels, is that most people seemed to jump to the conclusion that its Burntrap. I think its mostly due to the body shape and its purple eyes.. Which is fair.

But also may I remind ya’ll that in my AU, when a bot of some kind is “infected” with “the bug”..

Their eyes turn purple. So whos to say that’s William following Foxy around?👀

@subspacecadet Foxy and Bonnie might not know what that means, and just assume you’re calling them “furry”, like they’re covered in fur. Which for Foxy is like “Yeah duh, I have a fake fur coat” and Bonnie’s thinking “My shell doesn’t really have fur but okay-”

Same would go for the Glamrocks. I don’t think they would know what that really means.

The only character that would probably know what being called a Furry means is DJ Music Man funnily enough. He’s always hanging around older kids in the arcade and might have heard them talking about Furries once. In which he would know being called a furry is usually supposed to be an insult. In which he would be offended on the Glamrocks behalf.

Random kid: “I don’t like Freddy, he’s a furry! >:(”

Freddy: “..I.. believe you are mistaken. I don’t have fur. I have a plastic shell! :)”

DJMM: “>:/ Yeah well ur MOMS a furry”

Random kid: “>:O”

Freddy:

Not quite, but her bitterness towards Roxanne does heavily involve Foxy. 👀

@yukurie As it stands right now, my AU branches off from the ending where Gregory escapes from the Pizzaplex at 6 AM and is found by Vanny in that box.

Except in my AU, Vanny didn’t find Gregory. Gregory didn’t stop somewhere nearby and sleep in a box. Gregory just kept running, and was never found.

Although after part 2 of “Bits and Pieces” is posted, I plan to take a break and really build up my FNAF AU more. A lot of my timeline is left blank, which needs fixing.

So with that being said, my AU might be re-written and this ending will no longer be canon. :/

@banaanipapu

XDD No worries! That just tells me someone really likes my work! :}}

@lets-zofifi-stuff (post in question)

I didn’t really have any dialogue planned out for that doodle. But I imagine Sunny is in tears because someone finally visited him after months of being all alone.

He’s probably stumbling over his words asking Foxy about everything that’s going on outside the Daycare.

“Have you seen DJ?? Is he okay?? He’s still in the arcade right?? Are the others okay?? Why has no one come to see me?? Have they all forgotten about me?? What’s going on out there??”

And Foxy’s just like:

Did she really? Whack. But it doesn’t really matter because Monty mix isn’t really a thing in my AU for 2 reasons.

1: I completely forgot it existed and thus didn’t write it into my AU--

And 2: I don’t think there would be a logical reason for it to make any animatronic that consumes it go crazy.

In my AU, Chica attempts to consume food during her “malfunction” for reasons unrelated to Monty Mix. And the animatronics don’t have stomachs, its not like she could eat it, absorb something toxic in it and go crazy. If anything she could consume it and it clogs her up internally and she shuts down. But again this doesn’t matter because I didn’t write Monty Mix into my AU-

@cherrycreamfairy Thank you! :DD I do my best! :}}}

@void-the-bear

Girl go back to SLEEP

(Coming from someone who ALSO isn’t asleep when I really should be rn)

AOSKJDOASDKS THANK YOU! :D

If they ever encountered those animatronics in cannon, they would probably be completely mangled and shut down. In which Foxy and the others would just find them super creepy.. and weirdly HUGE.

As for if they were alive/active?.. I have no idea. Considering my Glamrocks aren’t supposed to be murderous and possessed.. it probably wouldn’t be a friendly encounter 😬

Thank you! Unfortunately though I.. am not the best at teaching people how to draw things or giving advice.

I mostly draw through muscle memory. And I don’t really know how to describe how I’ve learned to draw the way I do. I guess I looked at how other people draw faces and tried to mimic it. I guess its like-

“Okay I drew this sad face, but it doesn’t really look that sad.. lemme look for how I can improve this face.”

“Oh! This artist also drew a sad face! And they drew the eyebrows a certain way, that makes the character look really sad :( Let me try that!”

And then I draw the weird eyebrows, see that its an improvement, and draw it like that from then on-

You see- I’m not really good at giving advice/teaching 😭😭😭

@halogenrobotics I don’t see why not! :0

@ourlifestooshort Thank you! I’m glad you like them!

And I do have full body refs for them, but uh.. I think I’ll just uh, keep those tucked away in my files for now- 😅

@chromchill Thank you! I’m glad you like them! :}}

And I would like to say I’m taking breaks, drinking water and stretching.. but uh.. hehhhh... 😅

Awwww, that’s a great headcannon!

(Comic in question(?))

We’ll just have to wait and see! :}

@cali-the-temmie Uhg, very frustrating. Although its nice to hear that everyone is calling them out and knows its stolen work.

@noisyapricotcalzoneclod Nowhere! My Refinedtale AU has been put on hold BIG TIME in favor of my FNAF AU.

And even if it wasn’t, my RefinedTale AU is still a work in progress. And I haven’t fully planned out Gaster’s recovery, nor have I drawn/written it. :/

I am 100% sure my Kung-fu panda AU thing ends with Shifu being completely fine. :} I know this because I made it.

#my response #fnaf security breach

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artsyjesseblue · 6 months

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Whenever I feel like I’m losing my skills in drawing the human body, I always go back to the basics and start studying again. Especially hands, those seems to always fade faster from my drawing memory. I wanted to share my process of drawing hands, because I’ve heard many of you raising similar issues.

There are many drawing techniques out there and lots of pose reference sites; a very simple technique is to view all body forms as simple 3D geometric figures. Yes, that is a good way to establish the general forms and their proportions in relation to each other. But my recap does NOT start off with this:

Instead, this is my go-to method:

The old, classic anatomy… The hardest to master, but once you understand the skeletal structure and how the muscles and tendons overlay, then the drawing starts to make much more sense. This is the foundation for best art.

Halloween just passed, but some of you might still keep outside those fancy skeletons. Some of them are anatomically quite accurate. If you’re looking for a way to learn to draw, you might discover that it’s been there all along. 😉

Wondering what those red arrows and lines mean in my above drawing? Those are anatomical landmarks. They are my clues to where everything is situated underneath the skin.

Without entering into crazy bone names like scaphoid, lunate, capitate, etc (which I used to know by heart a long time ago - but reciting their names doesn’t really help me with actually drawing them), just know that besides the finger bones (the phalanges) and the metacarpal bones that make up the palm of the hand, there is that cluster of tiny bones right at the base of the hand. These guys basically create the connection between the hand and the bones of the forearm (radius and ulna). Depending on the angle of the hand, they give lots of reference points to an artist, along with the radius and ulna extremities, which form the base of the joint (top two arrows on the drawing).

The anatomical landmarks are the key to mastering human figure drawing.

One important thing to remember is that no finger bone is like the other. If, when you’re drawing a hand, you begin to “count” the fingers like twigs, instead of drawing them as unique elements, that’s a sign that you lost the anatomy of your drawing. Each finger is like a different person. It has a different character. Sure, they’re all related, like siblings in a family. You won’t see a hand with two pianist fingers and three lumberjack fingers. They have common traits, but they are not quite the same. And that’s because the bones underneath the skin are not the same. In the drawing above, I highlighted the way the knuckles and the joints of the fingers align in concentric arcs (which are not necessarily parallel). They don’t align in straight paths. Whenever you draw a hand, keep that in mind.

Below, I added a few pics of my own hand as a drawing reference. Although my hand is not the best at depicting anatomy since I don’t have very evident joints, there are still discreet changes in the contour lines that indicate where there are bones underneath the surface: the ulna, the radius, the metacarpal joints, etc.

Here are some more pics with various angles. Notice, again, the subtle transitions, suggesting the bone structures underneath.

There are as many hand types as people on Earth. Not one is like the other, and that’s determined genetically and by the amount and type of physical activity - because the bones underneath are reshaped by the pull of muscles and tendons. So studying a hand is basically like studying a portrait.

A good way to practice learning how the bones align underneath the skin and muscles is to study x-rays of hands. You can understand the relationship between the outer shape of the hand and the internal structure. Sure, there are muscles and tendons that further refine the shape, but the bone landmarks will always be right where they are supposed to be. Draw, draw some more, practice a lot, repeat. Study the differences in bone length from one hand to another, from one finger to another.

No plastic skeleton model? There are some really cool apps out there; I’ve never used them, in fact I just downloaded one today to play with it and it’s really cool. Search for “anatomy 3D” and you’ll find lots of apps, some of them include body movement.

So here are three steps (I won’t say they’re easy, because anatomy is complex) to get better at drawing hands (and by extension, the whole human figure):

Best is to start with basic images with the palm laying flat, like the x-ray image above. Draw the bones and the outer shape of the hand. Examine the ratio between the length of the fingers and that of the palm, the width of the palm vs the height, etc.

Then transition to more complex models, like the anatomical 3D models I mentioned before, so you can see how the bones look from the lateral view, and so on. Draw from many angles, see how the bone shapes look in perspective.

Last step is to use a real-life model (your own hand is the easiest), and knowing where those anatomical landmarks are, start practicing. Again, simple poses first, more complex afterwards as you get better and better. NB: there are lots of landmarks on a hand. I pointed out the less obvious ones. There are also the knuckles, the finger joints, and I have not discussed at all about the palmar side landmarks (the inside, or the palm of hand) but you can find them in the apps I talked about. As a rule of thumb (pun unintended), there are landmarks wherever there are joints between two bones, or where the bone has a protuberance. Some are discreet, others are more evident. Palpate your own joints to better understand what is underneath the skin.

I hope this helps others too! Whenever I’m stuck, I return to this routine, and it helps my rusty drawing get back on track. I focus on whatever body part I need to re-learn, and then zoom out to the whole human figure. Knowing these landmarks will make your drawing look natural, the shapes will flow coherently.

#human anatomy #how to draw hands #anatomical drawing #drawing reference #jesseblue draws #hand drawings

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gretavanlace · 2 years

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Sweet Little Toy

Jake Kiszka x Daniel Wagner x reader

18+ only! Minors do not interact!

Warnings: graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, dom/sub dynamic, language, dirty talk, use of toys, insinuation of toys, bdsm, oral sex, threesome, breath play, pet names (tw for daddy), hell idk what else...all the warnings that ever were I suppose

*to my darling @jake-kiszkas-smirk, this one’s for you and your stealthy ask. I love you, doll face

“Can’t we just go?” you complain, sounding pettish and impatient. “They know what they’re doing.”

“Shh…” Jake, strokes a hand down your forearm and folds his fingers between yours.

You eye the back of Danny’s head. His concentration is evident even though all you can see is his mass of dark, wild, curls. Your gaze shifts to the studio window, appraising the two men bustling about Danny’s kit through the glass. “What are they doing anyway?”

“They’re changing his batter heads.” Jake explains, like you should know what that means. “He likes to watch, likes to make sure it's done right.”

His thumb is sweeping along the back of your hand as you smile. “Oh, I know he likes to watch.”

“Behave, baby.” Jake reprimands, but there is little force behind it, so on you go.

“I’m bored, we’ve been here for hours. I want to go home and—”

Danny’s voice cuts you off, though he doesn’t bother turning around. “Hush, little one…you will do as you’re told. I heard Jake tell you something, what was that?”

“He told me to shh.” you answer softly, staring down at your lap as Jake gives your hand a reassuring squeeze.

“So why are you still whining? We’ll leave when they’re through with my kit and not a minute sooner. Quiet down.”

You nod, but can’t help the sigh of irritation that puffs past your lips. Jake shakes his head in disappointment, as if to say, will you never learn?

Finally, Danny turns slowly to face you, hands braced on the counter behind him. “What was that? Are you smart-mouthing me?”

You lift your chin defiantly, “I didn’t say a word.”

“That was me,” Jake offers, ever your soft-hearted white knight. “Something in my throat.”

Danny ignores his counterpart’s obvious attempt at rescuing you from his wrath and looks you up and down. “Once more, dove. Just once more, and you’ll regret that little attitude of yours. I can promise you that. Collect yourself…deep breath. Go on.”

You draw in a deep breath, and he nods, then turns back to watch over his kit…seemingly pleased with your contrition. “Good girl. Now, shut…up…”

“Why do you push him?” Jake ghosts into your ear, his hand guiding both of yours a bit further up your thigh.

Your eyes burn into Danny’s back, strong and broad, with the tiniest shiver. “Because I like it.”

His voice calls back, quiet, so only you will hear, “Naughty. Are you trying to get yourself into trouble, princess? You want to piss our sweet Daniel off?”

You nod and tilt your head, absently asking him to kiss that spot on your neck you adore.

His lips connect and suck against the pulsing flesh, tender and thin, just above your jugular.

“Well then, by all means, my love, continue.” he breathes through the kisses he’s spoiling you with. “In fact, allow me.”

He pulls away and gives you a tiny wink. “Just because you’re whispering your complaints to me, doesn’t mean you aren’t still complaining. You were told to shut up.” he swats at your cheek in admonishment as Danny turns back around, arms folded to watch Jake chastise you.

“Little miss trouble still can’t just shut her pretty mouth.” Danny shakes his head as if he’s dumbfounded. “You know what? Get up.”

You hurry to your feet. It’s muscle memory by now, the way your body responds to both of them. In a flash, your elbow is cupped in his firm grasp as he leads you over to a tucked away corner. Dragging a chair along behind him, he then jams it against the wall. “You will sit here quietly until we are good and ready to leave. No more cuddles with your precious Jakey on the couch…you’ve lost that privilege.”

“Dan, don’t be so hard on her, she’s been here all day and…”

Danny holds a hand up, silencing his bandmate. “This is half of the reason she’s like this…this is why she doesn’t behave. You’re too fucking soft with her.”

“That’s not true–” before you can finish your defense, he goes on the offense and yanks you down into the chair.

“You will sit here, and you will remain quiet and calm. You will behave. Do you understand?”

A slow nod with widened eyes is all you can manage as you fold your hands in your lap.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Dan…Why don’t you just turn her to face the wall like a toddler in time out?” Jake snaps, clearly unhappy with what he deems an unjust punishment.

“Why don’t I?” Danny agrees. He reaches down and grabs the wooden seat of the chair, spinning you around like you weigh no more than a bag stuffed with feathers.

“Thanks a lot, Jake.” you snark, staring at the studio wall in a huff.

“Stop it.” Dan barks, with a swift tug on your hair to quell your disrespect.

“Oh, princess…” Jake sounds despairing. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–”

“You too.” Danny’s warning is harsh, as is the hiss of breath Jake sucks in. You know without having to see, that Danny has given Jake’s locks a warning tug as well.

The minutes tick by like hours as you stare at the wall, partly humiliated, and partly so turned on you’d very much like to rock against the uncomfortable seat you’re sitting in for just a moment of friction.

Jake has grabbed up his acoustic guitar and is strumming soft songs into the room, and you know he’s done this solely for your benefit…purposely choosing your favorites in order to entertain his girl and soften the blow of her solitary damnation.

Truth be told, Danny knows this too, but chooses to ignore it in favor of allowing you this slight reprieve.

At last, the three of you are slipping out of the studio and into the car.

“Backseat.” Dan orders you, but Jake shakes his head firmly.

“No.” He braces his hand on the door when you attempt to climb into the back. “She rides up front just like always. I don’t care if you’re angry with her…that’s her spot, and I won’t have it.”

They stare each other down in the sickening yellow glow of a flickering street lamp until Danny must see it in Jake’s eyes…he won’t back down from this one. He pulls open the driver’s side in concession, and Jake opens the passenger door up for you, guiding you in with his hand on the small of your back.

Both of them watch to ensure you’ve clicked your seatbelt into place, and then, with Jake secured in the seat behind you, Dan starts for home.

The ride is quiet, and tense with what the three of you know is coming next…and you simply cannot wait.

“Are you thirsty?” Jake asks after you’ve showered and swaddled yourself up in your favorite robe. It’s pink flannel, threadbare and frayed from years of use, riddled with holes, and well-loved.

“No.” you shake your head and chance a nervous glance at Danny, who just happens to be heating up the blood in your veins with a predatory stare from his place, leaned against the door jamb.

Jake snatches the bottle of water off the little table beside your bed, snaps a finger for you to sit, and then screws off the cap with an exasperated flourish.

“Open.” he orders in that quiet, yet authoritative tone he’s mastered, and then the bottle is being guided to your lips. “You know better, baby. You know better. It’s good for you. Drink.”

Jerking away from him, you take the water and sip it on your own with a small sound of opposition that illustrates your frustration.

He chews on his cheek, masking the smile threatening to play over his lips…he likes you with a little fire in your belly.

“See?” Danny sighs, sounding over the situation entirely. “I’d have her bent over that bed with a belt on her pretty ass and a gag in her smart mouth if she pulled away from me like that. Just like I told you, you let her get away with too much. That’s why she’s such a fucking brat.”

“So come and spank me then.” you unwisely challenge.

A soft sound of surprise slinks out of Jake as he fixes you with a glare. He’s angry now too, he doesn’t care for watching you get yourself into trouble, and the moment Danny pushes off the doorway, fists clenched and a wild look in his eye, you know you’re up shit creek without a paddle, floating along in a boat that is rapidly taking on water.

He cocks his head as he crosses the room, studying you curiously. “What did you just say to me?”

Your stomach is somersaulting decadently, so you try your luck a little more. “You heard me.”

“Princess,” Jake snaps unhappily. “Not another word. Apologize.”

You drop your chin and stare up at Danny’s face through your lashes. “I’m very sorry, daddy. I’ll be good now.”

His hand, large and sure, is clasped firmly around your jaw in a flash, raising your face to his. “Don’t you Daddy me, that’s not going to save you now.” Normally that title melting past your lips weakens him. “Come on…” he grabs you by the wrist and cocks his head at Jake to follow. “My room, tonight.”

Oh no, fuck...

Turning your head, you catch Jake’s eye over your shoulder as Danny hustles you down the hall, but he simply shakes his head, resigned, as if to say ‘You made your bed, now you can lie in it, and get whatever else is coming to you in it, as well.’

This is the thing…

Your room is where they coddle you. It’s where they baby you and let you run the show, as much as their natural dominance will allow, anyway. It’s where you lie together when you’re too sleepy for anything else. Where you watch movies, and read, legs tangled together under the softness of your satin duvet. And, while they maintain their own spaces for a host of reasons, it’s where the three of you rest each night because neither one of them can sleep without you.

Jake’s room is where you land when you’ve earned a sort of ‘rewarding punishment’, if you will. Where his affinity for watching you in the throes of overstimulation really takes stage. More times than you can count, his enormous four poster bed has seen you trembling, tears streaming down your face, thighs and sheets soaked, as you beg them to stop and plead with them to keep going all at once. It’s no secret, they both love to watch you cum more than just about anything…but your Jakey gets off on it like nothing you’ve ever seen.

Daniel’s room, on the other hand, is where your disobedience goes to die. The unassuming chest at the foot of his bed– probably houses extra sheets and blankets, right? –is a treasure trove of weaponry to wrangle you back into your place when you’ve lost your way. Scarves and blindfolds. A special pair of airpods reserved just for filling your head with looming, ominous, classical music when they feel a bit of sensory deprivation is in order. Ropes and straps to keep you exactly where they want you. Paddles and floggers that really only sting…a thin switch that does more than sting. A pair of heels that are so sky high, even the most seasoned stripper might snap an ankle, earmarked for Jake, as he likes to feel them bite into the small of his back when he fucks you. Gags and hooks, plugs and spreader bars…they’re all there.

Also, present and accounted for judging by the jangle of metal that assaults your ears as Jake is kissing a winding trail over your collarbone…are the cuffs. You hate them most of all.

“Oh, Daniel, no…” Jake murmurs into your neck without bothering to look away from his task. “She likes to be able to touch. Hates the cuffs, don’t you, princess?”

Before you have a chance to reply, Danny shuts both of you down. “I don’t recall asking what she wants. What I do recall is dealing with an insubordinate, insufferable, brat all night. Whining about this, complaining about that. I had to put you in the corner like a child…” he sidles up behind you and pulls your hands away from the warmth of Jake’s shoulders. “Are you proud of yourself? Because you should’ve been on your knees the second we walked through the front door, begging forgiveness…”

He pauses to pull your hands behind your back. “but no…what did you do? You gave us even more trouble. You’ve been so, so bad tonight, little one.” his lips trace the shell of your ear, “What happens when you misbehave? Hmm? Can you tell Daddy? Can you tell Jakey?”

You’re positively trembling in their arms, “When I misbehave, you take over, Daddy.”

The first cuff, cold and unforgiving, circles your wrist, but Jake intervenes. “Cuff her around front at least.”

“I’ll decide where…”

Jake’s voice, clear and unwavering, cuts Danny off “Hard limit.”

They each get one ‘hard limit’ each go ‘round…maybe two, if they feel strongly enough to fight for it. It means one acquiesces to the other without question. You, on the other hand, are free to trot out your safeword as many times as you’d like. While it may seem that they are the one’s dealing the cards, you own the whole mother-fucking casino.

“God damn it…” Danny mutters, swinging your arms around to click the cuffs into place. Your hands rest secured at your navel, just as Jake has insisted

“That better, baby?” Jake raises your hands and bestows sweeping kisses over your knuckles, “See?” he raises your fingers to brush over his cheek. “Now you can still touch us if you want to.”

“Much better, Jakey…” you smile, petting him gently. “Thank you.”

“Go easy on her, Jacob.” Danny bites out, sarcasm dripping from his lips. You can hear the roll of his eyes, though you can’t see him. “No need to be cruel.”

“Shut up, Daniel…” Jake cups your face and kisses your forehead. “She’s my princess.”

“Yeah? Well your princess has a smart fucking mouth, doesn’t she?” his palm coils around your throat. “I think it’s time we fuck the attitude right off your tongue, dove. Don’t you?”

A choked moan climbs out of your constricted throat as his free hand sinks into your hair. In a breath, you’re wrenched from Jake’s embrace and hauled into Danny’s as he drags you over to the hook in the wall. It looks like it’s there to hang a jacket, or a bag, at first glance…but upon further inspection, it obviously rests much lower than it would for an innocent task. No one ever looks that closely though…you’d be shocked by what the human eye will fail to notice.

“Down.” the order is issued softly, but you drop as though he’s screamed it.

“Hands.” he adds just as softly, and your hands fly up, catching the short cuff chain over the hook just as you’ve been trained to do.

“Good girl.” Jake praises, ambling over to stand beside his looming tower of a partner. “See how well she listens?”

“No.” Danny grabs your face and pries your mouth open with the fingers of his opposite hand. “She just happens to enjoy a mouthful of dick. Isn’t that right, little one? You love a nice hard cock down your throat, don’t you?”

You nod and let your mouth hang open even once he’s pulled his fingers away…legs parted against the robe that has now almost completely fallen open, baring you to their hungry eyes. You mustn’t press your thighs together for friction, they’ll notice, and they won’t be pleased.

“Who’s first?” Danny asks, tugging the flannel apart the rest of the way in order to pinch your aching nipples. Jake drops down beside you to suck them into his mouth, soothing the sting away with his tongue…effectively making the decision for you. Not that it would’ve been much of thinker to begin with. Danny asked as a test and Jake’s name would have been a miserable failure on your part.

The metal hiss of Danny’s zipper lowering draws a whine out of you as you arch your back, pressing your breasts closer to the wet kiss spoiling over them. “Listen,” Jake’s rasp is muffled against your skin. “she wants it so bad. Don’t you princess? You want to be a sweetheart and suck him off, don’t you? That’s my girl…my pretty, pink princess.”

“Polish her tiara on your own fucking time, Jacob…” Danny huffs, tugging his cock out as he takes hold of your hair. “Your princess has work to do.”

He looks like a god, standing before you…pumping his thick, leaking cock, tracing it over your lips like filthy lipstick. He is stunning, breathtaking, halfway on his way to frightening, and you would grovel your way through shards of glass simply for the touch of his hand right now. His cock? All the better.

Without a sound, he taps your throat and instantly, with a deep breath, you relax it. “Hmm,” he muses, “maybe Jake’s right, maybe you are a good girl after all.”

With that, he slides in completely. Filling your mouth and your throat to the hilt, until your nose is nuzzling the dark trail of hair that leads to the cock you’re currently swallowed around. He presses you down further still, until your nose is burrowed into his stomach.

“You don’t need to breathe, do you, dove?” he strokes your hair in loving contrast with the assault he is waging on your esophagus.

You gurgle a vibrating hum around his length and shake your head. He swiftly jerks you back by the hair. “You’d rather choke on my cock than breathe?”

A docile nod is all you offer as Jake continues to lap his delicate tongue over your nipples. “Please Jakey.” you whisper. His hand moves to slip between your legs, but Daniel puts a stop to it.

“She’s earned nothing.” His attention turns to you once again… “Be glad I’m letting him kiss your pretty tits.” He slides back into your mouth, way down deep, until you’re gagging and retching around him, tears flooding your eyes and pouring down your cheeks. Nose stuffy and urging you to sniffle if only you could draw a proper breath.

“Fuck, little one…” he pants, fucking into your face with the back of your head pressed forcefully against the wall. “So fucking tight…everywhere. Just so…” in he sinks, “fucking…” deeper. “tight…” deeper still.

Your chest is caving in, lungs burning and searing in your chest, but you will accept whatever Danny sees fit to give you, and you will love it, so you fight the urge to jingle the cuffs with three quick yanks as you’ve been taught.

Jake steps in anyway and shoves Danny back “Let her fucking breathe.” He sounds so unlike himself that for a moment, the room stands still and quiet.

Once you’ve caught your breath and Jake has made sure that Danny plans to go a little easier on you, he rises to his feet and wanders off. You know where he’s going, and you know why. Daniel has many favorite toys lingering about in that treasure chest…

Jake has only one. One that he prizes far and away above the rest. The tinkling clatter that rings through the room, proves you right. He’s retrieving it now, ready to put it to good use.

“Bring her here.” his voice is gentle. As it almost always is.

Danny pulls his cock out of your mouth with a groan that proves how close he had been, and lifts your cuffs off the hook, helping you to your feet.

Your breath catches excitedly when your gaze lands on Jake…your beloved bleeding heart, toying with the leash and collar he so adores. “C’mere, princess. Look at the pretty necklace I have for you.”

Starting forward on your feet, Danny stops you with his hands on your shoulders, pushing you to your knees, guiding you into an awkward, shuffling, makeshift crawl…your hands still cuffed in front of you.

Jake shakes his head, feigning sympathy, but it’s there in his eyes, he likes it. Likes that you’re on your knees, working hard to close the space between the two of you while he tauntingly plays with the chain linked to the leather collar that’s just for you.

“You know you’re very pretty on your knees…” he gently runs the collar down your cheek when you wait before him. You nod, and lean into his love. “Say it.”

“I’m very pretty…” you shiver as Danny’s fingers push between your legs and dip inside your twitching cunt. “I’m pretty on my knees for you, because that’s where I belong.”

Jake hums with an approving smile flashing on his perfect mouth. “Daniel, leave my princess to whine for it, and hold her hair up for me.”

For once, Danny listens, dragging his finger, glossed and dripping with your slick, up your spine until he reaches the nape of your neck. He gathers your hair and sweeps it up, leaning in to whisper into the crook of your neck. “We’re going to fucking ruin you.” With a nip of his teeth, he pulls back, leaving Jake to fasten the collar around your throat.

The buckle connects with a hushed clink, and Jake steps back to admire his work. “Look at you…” he cups the globes of your breasts, letting the chain dangle between them, chilling you. “You take everything we give you so well, don’t you, princess? Who’s our sweet little toy? Hmm? Is that you? Are you our good girl?”

You flush with heat, head to toe, under his praise– and flush hotter still when Danny snaps your head back by the hair he still has bundled in his fist. “No, she’s not. Stop babying her. Either help me punish her or go away and wait until I’m through.”

In response, Jake jerks you forward, whipping the leash around his clenched fist to pull you close. The harsh, unexpected, force knocks the wind out of you with the tiniest gasp.

“Oh, my poor baby…” he croons into the ear Danny was speaking into a moment ago. “You’ve gotten yourself into a bit of trouble, haven’t you? Oh well, nothing to be done about it now.” He drops his volume even lower, to share a secret. “You listen, alright, princess? Don’t make this worse. He’s very upset with you.”

You nod imperceptibly– he’ll feel it…and then hand yourself over to your fate.

Silently, he leads you to your feet and nods at the bed. “Down you go…you know what I want.”

These are easy enough instructions to follow because, yes you do know what he wants…what he always wants. You lie down on the bed, stretch your secured hands over your head invitingly, and spread your legs.

Danny scoffs in irritation as Jake settles between your legs, lining his pretty face up with your cunt. “I tell you not to baby her, and you think the best way to go about that is to spoil her where she wants it most? This is pointless.”

“Shut up.” Jake casts Danny aside verbally and leans in to lick a soft, slow trail along your swollen clit.

Your hands reach to sink into his hair, careful not to hurt him with the metal of the cuffs, and his eyes flutter up to yours, glossy and lazy already, as if he’s drunk on you. “Gonna make you cum, princess.” his promise is slurred as he sucks at you. “Do it right for me. All messy and dirty…right on my face.”

“Yeah, Jakey…” you nod urgently, grinding up into his kiss, eager to get on with it. “Promise, baby…I promise, just..please…”

Never one to make you wait, he seals his lips, silken and plush, over your clit and begins to suck…watching you all the while. Gentle moans vibrating into your core to answer each one that escapes your throat and calls to him.

It feels like you’ve waited a thousand years, and your body decides on its own accord that it can wait no longer. “Don’t stop,” you whine, eyes on Danny’s darkened face as Jake coaxes your orgasm closer and closer to the surface. “Right there, Jakey…right fucking there…fuck, fuck!”

At the last second, as though he can feel all those tiny little bombs detonating in your body, Danny lurches Jake back by the hair, fighting for the upper-hand when Jake struggles to return to his rightful place between your legs. He stills when Danny circles his hand around his throat and draws him in close until they’re eye to eye, nose to nose. “I want to make her cum…she’s so pretty when she cums. C’mon, just one?”

Danny’s tongue, pink and curled, laps over Jake’s mouth, savoring the lingering taste of you. “She can cum when she deserves to cum.”

“But I’ve been good, and…” a hard glare from Jake closes your mouth, you promised him you’d listen.

“So our insufferable fucking whore knows what’s best for her after all?” Danny mocks, sending a delicious shiver trickling its way up your spine.

“Oh look, Jake…” he grins wickedly. “Your pillow princess likes it when I call her names. Maybe you should try it sometime…maybe you should stop being so soft on her…think with your cock for once.”

A moan bursts out of you that stuns you all…you hadn’t even felt it coming, you just need them to do something so badly. “You’re paying an awful lot of attention to each other,” you venture. “Should I leave you two alone?”

Both of their eyes laser in on you instantly…each blazed and scorching with a ferocity that causes you to whimper and cower into the pile of pillows behind you.

“Up.” Jake orders, sounding far too much like Danny for your comfort. He is your safety net, the one who steps in to save you from yourself and your natural bratty tendencies. “Hands and knees.”

You roll around instantly, bracing yourself on your elbows with your bound hands clasped.

Jake tosses the robe that is still attached to you due to the cuffs aside and cracks your ass. “Look, my princess has found some sense, Daniel…let’s fuck it out of her.”

They climb onto the bed. Their weight dips the mattress and makes you quiver in unnerved anticipation…but it’s a disconcert that is soaked in bliss…you want them so badly, no matter what they have in store.

Sidling up behind you, the leash is suddenly pulled back with a violent force that pops your eyes open wide. Jake tugs you around, back and forth, gauging his control. When he seems satisfied with the power held in his grip, he runs a hand over the small of your back, “All ours now, aren’t you, princess? How about a cock in your cunt, and another down your throat, yeah? Does pretty girl wanna be stuffed full?”

“Can you just…” you falter with a gasp and then center yourself. “Can you just fuck me, already? I need it…I need it so badly.”

“Getting bossy again, I see…” Danny positions himself in front of you and grabs you by the hair once again…it may as well be reins at this point. “Don’t mind her, Jacob…I’ll shut her up.”

With that, his cock slides deeply into your starved mouth once again, settling in like it’s coming home. “There it is, little one…there’s that smart mouth that likes to love on my cock. Take it, dove…fuckin’ take it. You like the way it tastes? You like the way it feels when I plug your pretty throat right up?”

You nod around him, and Jake uses your distraction to his advantage…slamming into you with one wet, unforgiving, thrust. The force of it sends Danny’s beautiful cock even further down your throat, leaving you to gag out a muffled wail as your cunt swallows Jake’s cock and your throat sucks Danny’s in all the way to the base.

“Ah, fuck…” Danny fights the whimper in his tone, but it still comes through loud and clear. “That’s it, dove…just like that…justlikethat…”

Jake is fucking into you relentlessly, edging you closer at a slow, yet steady clip…guiding you along, leash strong and true in his grip. “That’s right, princess…” he fucks you in time with his words. “Suck his cock…so big and fat you can hardly fit it in your little mouth…look at you, all stretched out around us both. See, Daniel? Look how sorry she is. Good girl, baby..good girl.”

Danny’s hand cracks against your cheek, delivering a smack that you wish you could carry the sting of for the rest of your life. “Harder, little one…suck me harder.”

You’re drooling all over his dick and the sheets, soaking Jake’s cock and the sheets at that end as well but you can’t be bothered to care.

“So fucking tight…” Jake rasps, hips stuttering. “She’s getting so fucking tight. C’mon baby, cum for us…choke my cock…fucking strangle me…”

You attempt to pull back as your orgasm slams into you, lashing at your senses with a vigorous violence that steals the breath from your lungs…but Dan has other ideas, and his cock buries into your throat deeper. “There you go…” he sounds like he too is teetering on the brink. “There you fucking go. You take that cock, dove. Suck it right down…Swallow everything I–” he trails off with a groan that could rattle the windows. “Swallow, sweetheart…swallow me…good…good, fu–...good fucking girl.”

He comes to a stuttering end, but Jake is still working away at you from behind. You stay still, quiet moans spurring him on as he yanks and tugs at the leash to remind you of your place between them. “Whose cum does princess want inside? You’ve already got a bellyful of Daniel? You want a cuntful of me?”

“Yes yes yesyesyesyes…” you beg, licking along the length of Danny to collect anything that may have escaped your mouth. He is sensitive, that much is obviously by the way he can’t stay still and the whines he’s attempting to mask. Still, he allows you to indulge in every last drop of your favorite thing.

The force in which he pulls at the leash is unrivaled…it sends you careening up and away from Danny as Jake fucks into you hard and fast, hand splayed over you, fingers on your clit, but solely to hold you in place…he’s seeking his own end now, knowing yours has come to pass.

He holds you, still and breathless, against him, collar tucked into your throat deeply, his cock tucked inside you deeper still.

“Baby..” he collapses down over your back, chin tucking over your shoulder, that familiar softness returning to his tone as he lets go inside your cunt. “Baby, baby, fuck yes baby…fuck…oh, princess…”

He’s babbling, hands gripping and squeezing at you like he’ll never touch you again…and you love it. You’d stay here forever if you could…between these two gorgeous men you love so much, and who love you even more in turn.

Slowly, he releases the tension on the leash, and then lets go all together as you collapse down against the bed. Danny’s hands are charting maps along the span of your back, as Jake heads to seek out the keys for the cuffs…ever eager to deliver you from punishment the second it seems within reach.

Danny is first on his feet, as he so often is, and you’re scooped into his arms. Tucked against him, with Jake moving just behind, hand on your ankle, you feel safe, loved, secure…collar still looped around your neck, ready for the next opportunity to run your smart mouth.

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#greta van fleet fan fiction #greta van fleet smut #greta van fleet fic #greta van fleet #greta van fic #fanfic #greta van smut #gvf fic #jake gvf #gvf danny #danny gvf #danny wagner #jake kiskza #jake kiszka fanfic #gvf smut

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film-in-my-soul · 5 months

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#hangster #sereshaw #hangster reclist #top gun maverick reclist #reclist #fanfic reclist

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princelylove · 7 months

Note

Interesting headcanon for yandere Jotaro and yandere Noriaki, I also agree that both of them are very competitive, I think they will even use stand to "fight" each other behind your back or just simple using it to gain attention from you. I see Noriaki might use Hierophant Green to trip you so he can be the one help you stand up and take care of you. For Jotaro, I have this headcanon for him, he actually a good artist, do you remember how great his drawing about the fly in Egypt. I think he will use Star Platinum to help capture your beauty in his art and he will give you the best art to show how he adore and love you (after so many drawings, I headcanon he has a sketchbook full of art about you).

I know you said it's not high chance they will corporate together but I think if they do it, they will be unstoppable. The protective side of Jotaro and the manipulate side of Noriaki combine perfectly together. Do you think they will corporate if some special situation happen, for example another person also interested in you and try to steal you from them?

P/s: I enjoy talking to you very much, looking forward your answer >v<

How adorable, anon.

Really, the only thing stopping them from being an unstoppable force together is their differing views on what to do with you. If they weren’t so firm on their position, you’d be sitting between them every day for lunch listening to Noriaki like he’s a podcast.

You’re so right about Noriaki tripping you so he can play prince charming. He might even grab you with hierophant green to move you as he sees fit. Too handsy with someone else? Hands are suddenly kept to yourself at your sides. You can’t see stands, he thinks, so it’s harmless. It must be a little muscle tick or something. Are you feeling well? He doesn’t mind giving you some extra attention and care.

That’s a cute headcannon for Jotaro, actually. He probably taught himself how to draw alone in his room. I don’t really think Jotaro was into videogames or sports in his youth, canonically he knows how to play neither of them, so he spends his free time drawing and listening to music or watching movies. He probably learned how to draw from those books about airplanes and ships he reads, he sketches like an engineer would. When he meets you, his sketchbook slowly goes from ships and fish to teaching himself how to draw humans, with you as his main model. It’s entirely from memory, so your nose might be a bit off, or maybe the length of your nails, but he’ll get it eventually. Suppose it doesn’t matter, since he hides his sketchbook in all of his school things so his mother doesn’t find it and fuss over her baby finally having a crush.

Noriaki hates that. He hates it so much that he’s adamant on actually showing you his own “sketches.” (Completed pieces with thirty hours put into them.) Look, he got every detail about you perfect. Isn’t it lovely? He loves painting stills of you doing what you love. This way, if Jotaro ever does show you his little drawings, it’s like he’s copying Noriaki’s hobbies at a beginner's level. He's happy to give Jotaro some tips if he asks!

They absolutely would work together if someone else tried making a move on you, undeniably. Noriaki only lets Jotaro have his little fantasy of playing hero and protecting you because he’s useful for keeping lowlifes away. Jotaro allows Noriaki’s crush because he thinks Noriaki isn’t bold enough to really tell you how he feels. It’s like a “enemy of my enemy is my friend” kind of situation, to them. Their friendship was going very well before you came into their life, they bonded enough to respect each other, but you’re certainly a stressor on whatever sense of friendship they had.

Noriaki is fairly happy to let Jotaro do the dirty work and claim to be nothing like him. Jotaro scares off any potential suitors with his presence, his body language is practically screaming “Fuck off.” If someone’s stupid enough to persist after Jotaro’s initial warnings, then they’re in for a beating. If they STILL persist after that, Noriaki will step in.

Since controlling outside elements isn’t working, it’s time to work from the inside out. He’ll make passive aggressive comments to you about the person, but mask it as just regular social shaming. You can’t blame him for talking badly, he doesn’t mean to be rude, it’s just.. Have you seen the way they talk to our teachers? They don’t participate in classroom cleaning at all, either.

If that still doesn’t work, and their darling doesn’t pick up on their “hints”... Well, they suppose they can make a deal of some kind.

#yandere jjba #yandere jotaro kujo #yandere noriaki kakyoin #request granted

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stillfertile · 2 months

Text

deweys being gross ficlet be upon yee

"you're only winning because you're a cheater," Brandon says, with a dirtbag smirk on his face. He leans into Connor's side of the couch.

"Hey!" Connor hisses. He keeps his eyes on the Mario Kart they’re playing on the TV, but as a precaution he pulls his controller away from himself so Brandon can't sabotage him like he usually does. Brandon takes a hand off his own controller to paw at Connor's, and Connor retaliates by smacking him with an elbow to the face. Connor gets past another lap in the game and pumps his fist in the air.

“Fuck…" Brandon mumbles, and Connor looks at him. There's a trail of blood crawling down his nose, and some on his palm.

"Shit, um," Connor says and drops the controller, "here, lean your head back." He pushes Brandon's forehead down till his head is pressed to the back of the couch. The trail of blood slows to a stop.

"Aren't I supposed to lean my head forward?" Brandon asks.

"Why would that be, you would make a mess," Connor says. He walks over to the tissue box on the counter and pulls a couple out. He then rubs the blood off of Brandon's face, not even leaving a smudge. "There, just keep your head back till it stops."

Brandon stills, staring up at the ceiling.

Connor sits down next to him. His eyes stick to Brandon's neck; entranced by the thick threads of muscles there. Brandon's adam's apple bobs, and the muscles constrict.

Brandon clears his throat, and Connor's eyes snap to his face, feeling a bit caught. "My throat kind of tickles," Brandon says. "I think I can feel the blood going down it."

"How's that possible?"

Brandon opens his mouth and sticks his tongue out, inviting him closer.

Connor sits on his knees so he can look over into Brandon's mouth. He's unsure of what he's looking for, or why he's entertaining Brandon. Brandon's tongue drapes over his bottom lip, and the end of it brushes his chin where the dusting of his beard begins. Not really a beard, Connor corrects himself, more like peach fuzz.

"You should poor beer into my mouth like this," Brandon says with a stupid smile. Connor chooses to ignore him.

“Hmmm I don’t see any blood so I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Connor says, saying it loud and exaggerated just to annoy him.

He scrunches his eyebrows. “Dude, look harder, I swear I can feel i—”

Connor grabs Brandon’s chin and pushes at his cheeks to pry his jaw open, subsequently also shutting him up. He looks down the hatch of Brandon’s mouth and angles his head back and forth like he’s really looking. Brandon keeps making ‘aah’ sounds, like he’s at a doctor’s office. Connor can see his throat open every time he does it. It’s a bit gross.

Connor puts his pointer finger down into Brandon’s mouth. He carefully guides it between his teeth and over his tongue. Brandon’s eyes go wide, but he stays still. He breathes through his mouth, and his breath feels hot against his finger. Connor pokes the soft, soaked, flesh at the back of his mouth. His brain helpfully conjures up a memory, a post he might have seen on twitter or a fun fact from a friend: the walls of the mouth are made up of the same type of flesh as the walls of the uterus. Connor would believe it. He pulls his finger out.

They both stare at it. The pad of his finger is covered in blood and spit. Brandon’s saliva drips down the side of it.

“Huh, I guess you were right,” Connor murmurs.

Brandon pulls his head to-and-fro and frees himself from Connor’s grip. He sits straight again, but doesn’t meet Connor’s eyes. He turns his head away, looking elsewhere; mumbles halfheartedly, “I told you so.”

He looks back to Connor when he doesn’t respond, and Connor wonders when Brandon’s face got so pink.

He’s holding his finger out delicately between them and, well, it’s Brandon’s spit, he should return it. He grabs Brandon’s chin and wipes his finger off on his cheek. The blood smears across his skin, almost like eye-black.

Connor draws his hand back, and their eyes meet again. Brandon doesn’t look away this time. He licks his bottom lip, plump and red like a ripe cherry, fresh for picking.

“I should—I’m gonna wash my face.” Brandon stands and stiffly walks to the kitchen. The sound of the faucet fills the quiet apartment.

Connor picks his controller back up and stares at the now-black TV. His finger feels cold.

#still writing #I really dont know why I wrote this #theyre DUMB OK

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jgmartin · 11 months

Text

I AM HAPPY

[TW: self-harm]

I am happy!

I say it into the mirror, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a tight smile. I am happy. My fingers clutch the edge of the bathroom sink, and a muscle twitches near my eye. Something tugs at the corner of my mind. A thought, maybe. It’s tempting me to peek at it, begging me to acknowledge it and push it out into the light of day, but I can't. I won't.

My mother calls me from the kitchen. “Are you ready for school?”

“Yes,” I call back. “I am.”

I take another few moments to stare at myself. I burn the image of how happy I am into my memory, just in case I start to forget.

It’s a big day, after all.

_____________________

The car chokes and sputters as it makes its way to school. I’m in tenth grade and I have no idea what I want to do with my life, but I know that’s okay. It’s normal. Nobody does.

Except for Maggie Taller, and Suhky Raj, and David Cho, and Adam Wallace. They’re going to be doctors and engineers and carpenters and drug dealers. They’re going to be happy.

We pull into the school parking lot. The van spits out a plume of smoke the size of Jupiter. Once the pollution clears, I open the door and look out over a sea of faces. Some of them are staring back at me. Some of them are snickering. One of them is Maggie Taller, and she’s waving—all red curls and dimples, so I wave back. My stomach does a frontflip.

“Have a good day,” my mother says. I look her way, and her face lights up with an expression that resembles a smile, but it’s not. There’s not enough play in her cheeks. She forgets to engage her eyes.

“I will,” I reply. I use the same smile that I practiced earlier. It’s much better. When I look back to the steps, Maggie is gone, and my stomach settles.

I lurch out of the car. “Honey…” my mother says. She reaches a hand toward me but stops short, almost as if she's worried I might snap at her or bite it off. She stares at me. "Things will get better for us, you know."

I close the door. The car leaves, backfiring as my mother runs the stop sign and nearly collides with an oncoming pick-up truck. It’s okay, though. Nobody is hurt.

I am happy.

_____________________

The mutters follow me to my first-period English class. The voices are hushed, but loud enough that I can hear them. It’s intentional. It’s by design.

“... walks like a goof.”

“... saw him staring at Maggie’s ass.”

“... smells like a dead animal.”

“... we’ll get him after school.”

I listen to Mr. Yu discuss the significance of metaphor in literature. He spends the hour comparing Animal Farm to Twilight, and demanding why we waste our time reading the latter. He says it’s dumbing us down. He says it’s a problem. I’ve never read Twilight, but I smile and nod all the same.

He asks me to define the word ‘metaphor,’ and I do my best, but I get the answer wrong. Somebody laughs. Why wasn’t I listening earlier, I wonder. What’s wrong with me?

“... what a dumbass.”

I am happy.

_____________________

At lunch, I get a table to myself. It’s good because it means I have personal space to come up with ten different metaphors for Mr. Yu. The cafeteria is loud. Too loud. I try to focus on my paper and pen, and I scratch down my favorite metaphor to get started.

‘It’s raining cats and dogs.’ I look at it and smile. It makes me think of my sister before the horror took her. I wonder if it will take my mother too.

The other examples don’t come easily for me. My eyes scan the definition of 'metaphor' over and over, but my mind draws a blank. I can’t think. I can’t focus. I wonder where Maggie is sitting today.

A folded piece of paper lands on the table in front of me. I look up to see where it came from—to see who dropped it, but I can’t tell. There are too many people moving around, too many faces swimming, and too many voices drowning my concentration.

I open it up.

There’s something written on the inside, hastily-scribbled and messy. It says, “YOUR DEAD,” in pencil-gray. A stickman is lying beneath the words, surrounded by three other stickmen. They’re stepping on him. Kicking him. Red pen strokes paint the page haphazardly, trailing from the crying man on the ground. I look closer. The other stickmen are smiling. They’re happy.

Something pulls at the edge of my thoughts. I ignore it.

_____________________

The bell rings, and school is over. I gather my things and pull my backpack up and over my shoulder. It’s heavy and awkward. It takes me three tries to get it right.

Today is a big day.

I make my way from the school grounds, over the hill that leads to the forest path that runs along the little creek. I make my way home. My arms are tired by the time I get over the hill, but that’s okay. It just means I’m getting stronger. All the work I’ve been doing in the forest is going to pay off.

Voices follow me. I recognize some of them.

“... pervert is gonna get what’s coming to him.”

"... I'll believe it when I see it."

"... heard Maggie moaning about wanting what's inside of him."

"... fuck you."

_____________________

The forest is full of people. There are joggers and people walking dogs. A homeless man asks me if I have any change, and I say that I’m sorry, but I don’t. He tries to spit on me but misses.

“... Liar. Gimps like you make bank off disability checks.”

My arms get sore by the time I’m halfway through the forest. I take the same shortcut I usually do, the one that runs by the creek, and there are fewer joggers and dog-walkers. I get nervous, but the babbling sound of the water helps me relax. Today is a big day.

“... I’ll kill him. Watch me.”

“... yeah, right. He’ll be fucking Maggie before you ever get the balls to.”

“... we’ve only been dating two weeks. I’ll fuck her.”

“... not before him.”

Footsteps approach from behind. It sounds like three people and one more in the distance. I don’t see them, but I know them. I know their smiles. I know they’re happy.

A fist connects with the back of my head, and I fall forward, losing control of my crutches. My face smashes against the pavement and my vision swims as pain explodes across my cheek. I taste something in my mouth. Blood. I try to push myself up but my legs aren't cooperating. They're hardly moving. They're useless.

“Crippled fuck!” a voice shouts. It’s Adam Wallace. He's working himself up. “You thought I'd let you get away with staring holes into my girlfriend’s ass?"

I try to say something, but a foot steps on my backpack, and I’m pressed to the ground. The wind’s knocked out of me. I can’t breathe. Shoes connect with my face, one after the other. There’s laughter in the air. A sneaker finds my nose and there’s a crunching sound, and suddenly I can’t stop screaming as warm fluid spills down my face, cascading over my lips. I sputter and whimper. My eyes well up.

“... somebody will see us.”

Hands grab my limp legs. I’m being dragged backward, off of the cement path, and deeper into the forest. I call out, and somebody stuffs a ball of cloth into my mouth. It reeks. It tastes like sweat and filth.

“... bet you wish that was Maggie’s panties, you perverted shitstain.”

I close my eyes. I try to smile. I am happy. I am happy. Tears slip down my cheeks, and something tugs at the edge of my thoughts. I ignore it. I have to.

_____________________

It takes ten minutes to get to where we’re going. The skin on my elbows is split and torn, caught on too many rocks and roots. They let my limp legs drop with a dull thud. I’m hyperventilating. It’s hard to breathe with the jockstrap in my mouth and a broken nose. There’s death in the air.

I’m rolled onto my back, and I feel my backpack shift against my spine. It’s uncomfortable, but not half as uncomfortable as Adam Wallace wrapping his hands around my neck and strangling me.

“... he’s actually doing it.”

“... I thought he was just fucking around.”

The trees above me fade with the air in my lungs. I gasp and sputter, but there’s no air to breathe and I’m not strong enough to pry his hands from my throat. He leans in close, his lips pressed to my ear. “You think I'm gonna let you cuck me?” he asks, and his voice is dipped in cyanide. “I warned you to stay the hell away from her.”

“... taking too long.”

“... use this.”

I hear the sound of a switchblade opening. The hands around my neck let go, and I take in a lungful of air. My heart hammers in my chest. I try to move, instinctively, and crawl away, but somebody grabs me by my backpack and drags me back.

“... there’s something in there.”

“... open it.”

Four arms wrestle the backpack off of me, and I groan in agony as somebody presses my broken nose into the dirt. I protest but it’s muffled by soil. Nobody hears it. Nobody cares. I hear my knapsack’s zipper being undone, and my pain is washed away and replaced with terror. My body seizes. I forget to breathe.

The moment lasts a lifetime. I know their words before they ever speak them.

What the fuck?

I hear the sound of a backpack hitting the forest floor, and things spilling out of it. I hear gagging. Retching. I hear footsteps stumbling backward. Soon, their shock will be replaced with anger. Rage. Something tears at my mind. It’s crashing against it. Demanding it’s time in the light and roaring at me to stop being such a coward and do something about this. I slam my eyes shut. I can’t. I won’t.

I am happy.

“... filled with dead animals.”

“... he’s a fucking psychopath!”

Hands grip the front of my t-shirt and pull me up from the ground. They’re shouting about the dead squirrel and the dead rat and the dead cat in my bag. A fist connects with my face. Blood hits the ground. Another fist. More blood.

“... whose cat did you kill, freak?”

“... I'm gonna hurl.”

I open my mouth, and I don’t care anymore. The words come out like a broken dam. It feels good. It feels overdue. “Offerings,” I sputter. “They’re offerings.”

“... he’s lost it.”

“... offerings for what?”

I smile, and my teeth are slick with my own blood. “Offerings to cure me.”

Adam Wallace raises the switchblade, pressing the cold steel against my throat. I close my eyes. Something riots inside of me, throbbing against my skull. I push it back. Death is in the air. Rough hands grip my hair, and I wince as they lurch my head roughly to the side. Adam’s voice is beside me. It's up against my ear. “Offerings, huh? You think you’re some kinda fuckin’ witch, Hermione Granger?”

“No,” I say.

Something shifts in the trees behind Adam and his friends, and a figure steps out from the brush. I recognize them. They've been following us since we left the school.

Suhky recognizes them too. He tries to step in front of Adam and me, block us from view. Words fall out of his mouth. He's giving her an explanation, maybe. A reason things aren't as bad they seem. He's interrupted by a horrible, wet-sounding jab. Then another. There’s a series of four slick rips, like a pen tearing through paper, or a knife cutting into skin. A gasp.

“... Jesus Christ, Maggie!”

Adam clambers off of me.

“... what’s wrong with you?”

“... she fucking killed him, Adam!"

Suhky falls to the ground. I close my eyes. I am happy. Warm piss soaks the dirt beneath me, and my limbs tremor with anxiety. I am happy.

There’s the sound of panicked feet, but it’s going in the wrong direction. It’s running away from me. The person’s muttering and whimpering, and I think it sounds like Adam Wallace but I can’t be sure.

Somebody else is struggling now. Two voices dance together on my left, just past my vision. A boy and a girl. It's David Cho and Maggie. They’re grunting a symphony of dying breaths. I hear dirt shift and leaves crack beneath stirring footsteps, and the smack of limbs grasping limbs.

There’s another wet jab, and a body drops. David asks, why? Another slick rip. The knife's tearing into him over and over, and he keeps asking why. Why are you doing this, he cries. Why me, Maggie? I hear his skin split twice more, and the questions stop.

A girl steps into view, standing above me. Her hair is a wild red, and her face is speckled crimson, just like the knife in her hand. She reaches down, and I think she might help me up, but instead, she starts placing the dead animals back into my bag, one by one.

“You forgot the rabbit,” she says, and her voice is colder than winter. Her eyes appraise me but they're missing something. They're empty. “That demon will kill you, you know. Just like it killed your sister, and just like it'll kill your mother, too. Unless you give it to me first."

"I know," I say. "I'm trying to."

She pouts her lips. Folds her arms. A doll hangs from her neck, and it's dressed in pins and needles and it looks like me. "I told you three offerings, didn't I?" She looks around. "I count two and a bag of roadkill."

Adam.

I have to roll over so I don’t choke on the blood spilling into my throat from my broken nose. “I can’t,” I cough. “I can’t catch him on crutches.”

“Then don’t,” she says with a sneer. Something tugs at my mind.

I close my eyes. I clench my fists. I want to scream and lose control, but I can’t because if that happens, then I’m not happy anymore. People I love will die. They always do. “Can’t you get him?”

“I've already done my part. The spell is specific. The final offering dies by your hand, or your nightmare doesn't end." Her mouth splits into a wide smile. "You don't have to kill him alone, though."

I stare at her, and I don’t have any words to fight back. She kneels next to me and runs a hand through my tangle of hair, gripping it painfully. She’s smiling, but she’s not. There’s not enough play in her cheeks. She forgets to engage her eyes.

"... now or never."

"I can't."

"... sure you can."

I whimper as the knife plunges into me, again and again. There’s a ripping sound, followed by another, and another. I clench my eyes. I ball my fists. I am happy. I am happy.

The knife sinks into me once more, and this time Maggie fishes it around my stomach a while. It twists, and I scream. I thrash and roar. Something escapes. It pulls itself over my bones, wraps itself around my mind, and extinguishes my thoughts before whispering madness into my ears.

I am not happy.

And neither is it.

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utahimeow · 2 years

Text

happy birthday @gatoru <3

NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI

the first thing you hear when you wake up is your partner singing the slightly off-key rendition of “happy birthday” that they sing to you every single year.

it’s become a tradition of theirs by now, a tradition they’ve committed to for the last five years of your relationship. it’s extremely cheesy and hange knows it—but that’s exactly the reason that they keep it up. hange has a knack for going out of their way to display their affection in the most cliche way possible. it’s in their bones.

by the time they’re finished singing, your face is buried in your palms in an attempt to soothe the burning heat in your cheeks. even after all this time, despite the cheesiness of it all, hange never fails to make you flustered. you’re still not sure what you’ve done to deserve it.

“time for your first birthday present,” they announce and the bed dips next to you. the grin is audible in their voice.

first present.

you wonder how many there are this year. they refuse to do anything less than spoil you. every year brings you something extravagant: a rooftop party, a rented boat, a trip to south america. it’s nothing you ever expect.

there’s the small things, too. right now, their hand creeps under the sheets, finding your legs and tracing along them slowly.

“will you let me make you feel good, honey?” they ask, never pressing in how they await your consent.

with a sweet smile, you nod, and in an instant the sheets are thrown off your body, your sleep shorts pulled down your legs, and hange in between your thighs.

“so pretty for me…” they muse, swiping the tip of their finger through your folds, just barely catching your entrance. hange gasps, staring at their glistening digit. “i wonder, are you still wet from last night? or are you already just excited for me?”

your cheeks burn again at their reference to the night before, your clit throbbing as though it’s also capable of experiencing memories.

“hange, please…” you whine, hips bucking absentmindedly as their index finger starts to draw small circles against your bud. “it’s my birthday… you wouldn’t tease me on my special day, would you?”

hange’s eyes flash with something devious, a grin tugging at their lips. you’re words aren’t meant to be a challenge but taking them as one seems tempting to hange. they can’t resist your soft, pleading eyes though—your irresistible glance that makes it impossible for them not to give you exactly what you want.

your partner pops their middle finger into their mouth, swirling their tongue around it before they slip it past your entrance, sinking it deep inside you while they wrap their lips around your clit. their tongue presses against you and your back arches off the bed from the shock of pleasure that jolts through you.

always so attentive, hange is spurred on by your reactions to their movements. they’re automatic in speeding up their curled up finger, thrusting their wrist back and forth. they’re hitting the spongy, sensitive spot within you with ease, having mapped their way around your cunt long ago.

you’re writhing and gasping already—the way their tongue flicks over your bud with skill leaves your head spinning, your hands grasping at hange’s dark roots. they’re pushing a second finger inside you and you’re crying out their name in an obscene moan.

“feels so fucking good…” you whine as your pussy clenches around their fingers. “don’t fucking stop.”

“i would never,” they quip, mumbling against your cunt—it’s deliberate. the vibrations turn to pinpricks of pleasure that spread through your limbs, make your muscles seize and your eyes roll back.

at one stage, one of hange’s thrusts has her fingers brushing against a spot that makes the knot in your stomach coil. paired with their merciless stimulation of your clit, you doubt you’ll hold out for much longer.

“there- right there,” you moan. “gonna cum, baby.”

“yeah?” they ask. they continue the relentless drag of their fingers in and out of you when they pull away from your pussy, drawing webs of spit with them. lips red and swollen, glistening with your arousal, the image of your partner with their head between your thighs is enough to send you over the edge.

“yeah, that’s it,” they drawl as you shriek out in bliss, tightening your legs around them. your cunt clamps down on their fingers that keep on moving, fucking you through the pulses of searing hot pleasure that make your muscles tense up. “always so good for me, aren’t you? look at your pretty little pussy coming on my fingers.”

moments later you finally snap back to reality, remembering once more that it’s your birthday. you chuckle to yourself at the idea that your partner’s present for you was so good it made you forget what day it was. from hange you expect nothing less though.

it’s then that you notice that their fingers are still inside you, frozen for the time being, but when hange thinks you’ve recovered from your orgasm a little, their hand stirs to life again.

“another?” you question, a light smile gracing your face. it’s no surprise, though. they never let you get away with just one.

“happy birthday, sweetie,” hange smirks devilishly. “i’m giving you an orgasm for every year you’ve been alive.”

#hange x reader #zoe hange x reader #hange smut #hanji smut #zoe hange smut #aot smut #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #꒰ lovers. ꒱ — hange

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blueringbeetle · 2 months

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Loving comes easily to me and I’m honestly seething with rage that it is a piece of me that was almost completely killed. I know I would’ve gone with it.

I love picking flowers and taping them into my sketchbook, I love drawing things I’ll never think about again purely because I love the act of drawing, I love creating things that become massive projects and things that never pass the stage of notes in the borders, I love my dogs, I love it when they annoy the shit out of me because it means they’re here. I love clear skies and rainy ones. I love watching movies. I love going swimming. I love doing a good job and doing a bad job. I love doing a middle-of-the-road job. I love starting, I love ending. I love day dreaming. I love music. I love eating from the pan before the meal is even finished because I love what I’m cooking so much, it all ends up in the same place anyway. I love failing. Miserably, even. So horribly it feels like I’ll never recover but I always do. I let myself feel that feeling till it passes because all things do pass eventually. I love how I feel grief and I love how I feel hope.

My spark, the thing that keeps you warm when nothing else does, it was dead for I don’t know how long and now that I’m gently bringing it back to life I am genuinely awestruck that I survived how long I did completely without it. The inertia and muscle memory could only take me so far and I’m glad I collapsed into a heap when I did.

I think the scariest part was that it came so slowly and carefully that by the time I realised where I was, it felt so close to the end I didn’t know what to do. I think smothered is close to the right word, like my innate brightness could only be met with ‘why are you doing that? You shouldn’t do that?’ I’m only sort of beginning to understand what happened, it was slow, nit picky, and near disgust. A quiet ‘oh’ and then I made myself smaller. It was a cutting and minimising act pretending to be refinement and discernment.

I seethe. And I seethe and I seethe and I seethe. It’s a kind of seething that builds and erupts into laughter because I can’t believe how stupid it all is at the end of the day. I’m allowed to play my favourite songs and dance in the kitchen, more than that, I should play my favourite songs and dance in the kitchen. Each time I scrape together the energy to do something purely for fun I am rewarded tenfold with the energy to do it again and something else too.

If someone sees me dancing or laughing, or picking flowers, or being joyful, digging out happiness from between the cracks in the pavement and enjoying my limited time here, and their first act is to point, scoff, sneer, and say ‘wrong.’ I will burn them to the ground with how much I love being myself. I don’t want people who enjoy picking at the happiness of others like a scab to find me easy to be around.

It’s not been easy to recover. It hurts to pick myself up when I am an engine with no fuel but I’m lucky and have people around me who know how to fan my flames. That’s what makes it so easy, even when it’s not easy, is if you have people who know how help works for you. Luck is part of it too, a good breeze can carry you far, and I’ve learnt that to get a good breeze you need to be in places where there is wind. So I dragged myself, at times kicking and screaming, into the tree tops and valleys and I let preparation meet opportunity.

I’m relearning to trust myself. Not in a blind way, importantly. In the way that when I feel internal resistance and terror I’m able to hold myself and move in the direction that I know in my heart and mind is the right direction. Failure and success are both big changes and I need about the same level of self care to deal with either.

I am a warm person because I seek joy like I’m starving and now I find it everywhere. I am hard to kill because all things give me life. I will never let someone leer down at me and my uncomplicated contentment and scoff at me for it. Never again. My sketchbook is full of flowers, my belly is full of food, my heart is full of love and anger and grief. I am alive and learning how to be. All I am is a human, and my god, what a thing that is to be.

#rant #brain dump #word vomit #my own thoughts #massive rant #the human condition #I got carried away #no idea what to make of these thoughts but they’ve been rattling around in my head SOOOOOO much #I had to get this into words #poetry #idk what to call this?#my post

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ravenatural · 4 months

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15 Questions tag game

The rules are: Answer the 15 questions and tag 15 of your mutuals.

Tagged by @echoghost1 , ty Echo!! :D

1. Are you named after anyone?

Ohh okay so this one is kinda fun because I technically am on four counts! My legal first and middle names both came from two different people ( one a famous author, the other my great great great ( great? I think it’s 4 ) aunt. The other two counts come from chosen names! while I’m not positive how much raven counts ( chosen at 13 because of raven teen titans haha ), Alva is another name I chose for myself that came from an ancestor on my moms side

2. When was the last time you cried?

Last week? I think? Shit’s been kinda stressful all of a sudden

3. Do you have kids?

I babysat a couple of kids for a few months when I was like 18-ish and worked a job that had a daycare room, and I absolutely adored them to the point my mom started referring to them as my kids, but I am neither a legal guardian nor still in contact since the place went out of business so I’m gonna have to answer no to that one

4. What sports do you play/have played?

Ohh man okay i don’t think I’ve done any sports since I was like. 10 years old, max. I briefly did soccer, and then basic ballet and tap lessons; I had a couple group recitals, but never advanced past flats, and honestly did not retain even muscle memory on anything

5. Do you use sarcasm?

I can’t because I’m the kind of awkward that struggles with tone inflection and quick wit so when I try people always think I’m serious 😔

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Something that can be complimented, generally.

Like, one of the things I do as someone with a customer facing job, is actively look for things to complement people on, for a multitude of reasons. It’s def not some kind of a requirement for my position, but more just that I like to break up the basic check-out process a little by finding something that I can genuinely appreciate ( which, the more I’ve done this the wider an appreciation of people’s personal style preferences I’ve had in general ) and communicating to them I like it, which never fails to brighten up an interaction.

It’s honestly really great too, because people often like to share the story behind the things I compliment, and I love to hear those stories, so it’s a good balance I think!

7. What's your eye color?

I’ve always been told they’re brown but I’m like 98% certain they’re actually hazel? But the definitions of hazel I see are very, well, hazy tbh, and I’m afraid to commit to being 100% certain lmao

8. Scary movies or Happy endings?

I like both BUT the happy endings I’d really like to have a lot of toil and angst and maybe a lil tragedy first—I want that happy ending to have blood stains that are over time bleached away by sunlight, but forever imprinted onto the fabric

9. Any talents?

Idk if I’d describe myself as talented in any manner, but that’s mostly because I prefer to think in terms of skill-set over natural talent

That said, I have never formally—or informally really, for that matter—studied gemstones, but I can recognize and name a decent number of them on sight relatively easily, and have ID’d multiple pieces of tanzanite jewelry first try ( something where every individual, all unrelated, who was wearing said jewelry have said I’m the first person to not only think it was something other than sapphire, but to also know instantly. All I can really offer as to how I know is “its just the way it is” because ig the color and shine differences aren’t as easily noticeable to everyone else? ). It’s a side effect of having a detail focused mind that I’m honestly really proud of

10. Where were you born?

Nice try sucker you’re not getting the answer to my online account security question THAT easily

11. What are your hobbies?

Drawing

opening new tabs from my YouTube recommendations side bar for every song title that looks interesting and seeing how much new music I can find in one sitting before I get bored

finding hyper specific and sometimes rare things people I know haven’t been able to find and then buying it for them

googling the fuck out of some random ass thing that just came up in conversation until I have a bunch of new fun facts on the subject

sewing

and more!

12. Do you have any pets?

LOTS

context: my family runs a small hobby farm, + we have our indoor pets ( only cats for indoor now ), we’ve had a variety of livestock over the years, but currently it’s just sheep and chickens for outdoor

13. How tall are you?

Just a lil over 5’5” but not quite 5’6” ( no I don’t need to be that specific but the doctor commented on it last time she took my height and damn if I won’t take the small win )

14. Favourite subject in school?

Mmmmm I’m gonna automatically disqualify art just to make this slightly more challenging for myself.. probably Astronomy? Tbh I’ve never been able to wrap my head around enough math concepts to understand a lot of science formulas, so that whole portion of it didn’t quite work out for me, but I enjoyed the fuck outta reading the textbook

15. Dream Job?

Oh okay this one is actually really specific, but. Making an anime / cartoon style comic and / or illustrations and maybe a variety of other artwork for NASA, no this position does not exist but I want it IMMENSELY

Hooooo this got a LOT longer than I expected lmao

trying to avoid tagging mutuals I’ve already seen tagged in this one, obvi feel free to ignore if you don’t wanna do it ( we’re low stakes tagging in this household )

@zrllosyn

@magiwou-meowvin

@13threbagel

@lactoseparty

@aggressivelyclueless

@mcfanely

@cosmicteafox

@tunafishprincess

@ukiinas ( I silently salute you for being my longest standing mutual 🫡 )

…and anyone else who’d like to! ( I don’t feel like digging through my followers to fill the list to max shajsisoa have at it fellas )

#Tag game #Ask game #15 questions tag game #long post #ravens ravings

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needlereads · 2 years

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Artifice | Part 4

SoftDark! Mob!Ari x WOC!Reader

Summary: Your summer fling turns out to be mob leader Ari Levinson. He wants you for keeps. He’s also looking for revenge against your family.

Warnings: 18+ only, dub con, vaginal sex, explicit sexual content, soft!dark

Notes: This multipart fic will not be told in chronological order. It’s also set in 1950ish era mostly for the aesthetics in my mind so you’ll see some traditional gender role/family dynamic references.

Thank you for coming along this ride and piecing together the various past and present fragments as you read!

****

(back then)

“Please excuse us, Mr. Levinson. I need my sister urgently.”

You tried ignoring the weight of Ari’s smug gaze upon your back, pulling Maria with you across the large, ornately lit room.

She stubbornly dug her stilettos into the floor.

You asked, “Why was he talking to you?”

“What is this nonsense?” Maria asked you. “I was having a lovely time with Ari.”

“How do you know A-- Mr. Levinson?” You stuttered. “He’s not from around here, isn’t that right?”

Your sister was clearly interested in Ari as she shared what she had learned about his background, his wealth, his lack of marital status. Under other circumstances, you would have understood, perhaps even been happy for her.

“He seems like a bit of a flirt,” you tried.

“He’s certainly charming.”

“Maria, please. He’s not a good person.”

“How would you know this?” She studied you a moment, gaze narrowed.

“I – well, I’ve heard things. There are customers who come to the restaurant…”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Rumors. A powerful man cannot escape gossip and I’m sure there are plenty who envy Ari’s power.” A little smirk graced her lips. “I’m not afraid of gossip, not when I might stand at Ari Levinson’s side. I suppose then I might face some envy myself.”

Maria met your eyes once more, a perfect brow arched. She was suggesting you might envy her?

“That’s not…” You shook your head. You couldn’t let her continue to covet a spot at Ari’s side – because he was bad news for her and for your family. “Look, we barely know this man. Mother and Father might have heard of him, and they might not like you being around him either.”

This earned you a breathy laugh.

“Don’t worry. Father knows all about Ari Levinson.”

“He does?” Erich knew of Ari? Since when? How could your step-father be involved with such illicit business dealings? While you tried to formulate a question vague enough that wouldn’t disclose how much you knew, Maria raised her chin up at the server who approached you two.

“A recommendation from the gentleman in blue,” the server indicated.

You looked over. Ari raised his glass towards the two of you.

Preening, Maria sent him a sultry smirk and accepted a glass of champagne.

“No, thank you.” Indignant, you turned your back on Ari.

“They’re drawing up a business contract. So really you needn’t worry. Besides, I can take care of myself.”

You were helpless, taking in this news while Maria ambled back to the bar.

Ari and Erich were going to sign a contract? He had his clutches this deep in your family already?

You needed to think. You needed quiet and to figure out a plan of action.

You took the exit stairwell, winding down one floor when you heard a ruckus at the door to the next level. Wondering if someone was in need of help, you pulled the door open.

The next moment, you’re yanked across the hall and into a dark room.

The hand pressed to your mouth kept you from forming coherent words.

“Shh. It’s me.”

Ari.

A bare light bulb flickered on. You sagged a little, then shook your head until his hand fell from your face.

“What are you doing?” you demanded. There was little space for the two of you in this maintenance closet. Already, the heat emanating from his body overwhelmed you. How long had it been since you were alone with Ari.

No, that wasn’t important. You needed to get out, away from Ari. Away from the muscle memory that urged you sink into his arms.

It wasn’t up to you. As you backed away, you stumbled on a stack of buckets and Ari closed in around you to keep you upright – right against him.

“Ari,” you admonished. “What—"

“Wanted to see you.” He flashed that smile at you before burying his face in the side of your neck.

You squeaked, arching at the insistent prodding of his nose. His breath tickled while his beard sent shivers down your spine. “Ari, d-don’t.”

He hummed, soft kisses ghosting along your neck up to your jaw and then behind your ear. You squirmed, but he merely craned to the other side the better to greedily rub his lips to as much of you as possible, his beard an abrasive reminder of how familiar he was with your body.

He pulled a deep breath of your scent, pleasantly warm with you in his embrace.

This wasn’t right. You bit your lip hard, a reminder of the painful reality of this man.

You grumbled and pushed at him. “What do you want?”

Ari took you in, the rigid line of your lips, the disgust pooling in your eyes. He took a deep breath. It wouldn’t due to lose himself here and now, no matter how much he wanted to kiss away your discontent. He straightened up, keeping his hands on you, looking at you down his nose.

“Had a good chat with your sister?”

Glowering, you tilted your chin up, resolute. “Leave her alone.”

He gave you a sympathetic pout. “Where’s the fun in that? She was very clear in her interest to get to know me better.”

Your mouth parted in dismay. Ari couldn’t help licking his lips.

“Would that bother you?” Oh, he could see anxiety wear on your features. He wanted it to bother you. Anything to indicate you weren’t lost to him.

“You can’t!”

“Because you want to protect her? Or because you don’t want to share me?”

Again, your mouth opened and then closed, unwilling to form a response to his audacious claims.

“I don’t want you,” you gritted out.

His eyes twinkled, clearly not believing you. “We’ll see.”

Gripping the nape of your neck, Ari held you still so he could claim your lips. Hungrily, he suckled at the pillowy softness of your lips. You couldn’t breathe. You gasped, panting as he deepened the kiss and licked into your mouth.

You knew this was wrong. You knew you shouldn’t be here with Ari, this man who entered each room with a mask on, who had withheld vital information from you and felt no remorse. You knew you should regret every second you had already spent with him. You knew his touch shouldn’t feel this good.

(Now)

His touch felt so good. Resistance, sanity, all was wrung from you as Ari's mouth stoked your sex with unforgiving sparks of pleasure. Digging his tongue deep in you, he groaned with relish.

You had arrived early afternoon to the beachside cottage. Passed down from Ari’s mother’s family, it was private, cozy and retaining that ageless classic touch.

You insisted on exploring the quiet streets of the nearby town, having promised your little brother gifts. In your cropped slacks and sleeveless blouse, sun already highlighting your complexion, your loveliness was unimpeded. The sea air seemed to relax you. You didn't complain as Ari held your hand at all times. It was more than his vigilance -- after all, his men kept a constant perimeter watch around you both. No, when it came to his affections, Ari had no reason to restrain himself. Especially now.

After an early dinner, you thought you might visit the market closer to the beach. You freshened up back at your private room and went to grab your wallet and instead Ari was there crowding against you.

He had promised a honeymoon – to you and to himself.

You’re breathless from Ari’s demanding kiss, all consuming and burning with how his mouth claimed yours. His weight pressed you down, fingers squeezing into your flesh to imprint the feel of you into his palms. His hands and lips eager to explore you, uninterested in worldly experiences this evening that did not involve your naked beauty unfurling under his hands.

He broke away, leaving you gasping. Large hands gripped your thighs, yanked you to the edge of the mattress. He watched you as he nudged your entrance, all slippery and puffy, with the tip of his cock. He had worked you up with his mouth and tongue til you dripped and your scent clung to his beard.

You gasped as he pushed in. With agonizing intent, he buried himself as deep as possible into you.

“Fuck. Gonna give it to you…”

His hands dug hard into the meat of your thighs, holding your lower half suspended off the mattress and spread wide for him while he fucked you hard. Loud smacks of his pelvis meeting yours, his tight balls and taut pelvis bouncing against your ass and thighs. Your whimpers and cries answering his growl, “Mine. This’s all mine.”

Your back arched at the pleasure striking your core, arching like a sinful offer that made Ari even more ravenous.

His thick cock filled you without mercy, so much girth invading the sensitive heat in you, rubbing every pleasure spot. Your arms spread wide, grasping at the tangle of sheets with hardly any control over your own body that simply responded to the intense onslaught of desire. Ari never let up, keeping you tilted so his cock could hit that sweetest spot, blazing a fire in you until you were whining with release; your body clenched with electric delight that had you clutching one breast. The holy angles and telltale tightening of your orgasm – Ari’s vision clouded with need, savage need for more.

You milked him so tight, Ari moaned and pounded into you harder and faster. You belonged to him. He would never have enough of you. Would always hunger for the wet heat of your perfect cunt.

You quaked and panted as his relentless pace kept you on edge. The pad of a finger stroking your sensitive clit had you coming in another burst, that glorious and addicting itch scratched so maddeningly by him and only him. He snarled, unable to hold himself back. Slamming deep, his entire body tensed with how good you made him feel, his cum shooting uncontrollably, again and again, flooding you.

He panted, grinded against you, savored the extra heat of his cum gushing inside you. His seed dripped along his cock as it pumped out of you again and again, dribbling into a mess on the sheets.

His eyes drank you in, little mewls escaping your sweating body.

That night, he half-covered you, loosely spooning from behind and weighing you down with one heavy leg and an arm that stretched with yours, fingers threaded between yours – the better to fill you with his cock even as you slept.

Now that you were his in name and the two of you officially on honeymoon, Ari’s only plans involved pleasuring you and coaxing you into accepting his heart.

******

Comments are life💙

(✿◕‿◕✿)

#ari levinson x reader #ari levinson #mob!ari levinson #soft!dark

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