#and my ass has not drawn a pic in a while...
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quickmaster · 4 months ago
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Addison spamtonnn
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verstappen-cult · 1 year ago
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OBSESSED, M. VERSTAPPEN.
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✶ SUMMARY. You’ve always been a little bit obsessed with your boyfriend. Especially with his thighs.
Or, 2 times Max catches you looking at his thighs + 1 time you do something about it.
content warnings ✶ disclaimers. fem!reader. max’s thighs. blowjobs. biting. pegging. english is not my first language.
GWEN RAMBLES — this was requested a while ago and just now had the inspo and the time to write it. i’m sorry to the person who asked for this but also big thanks because i’ve also been obsessed with max’s thighs ever since i saw pics of him in those tiny shorts. hopefully we’ll get to see more of that during this summer break. prayer circle, my house at 10pm. 🤞🏼
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#1
It’s a very hot summer day and you’re spending it out at sea on Max’s yacht with some of your friends.
And Max is wearing the shortest shorts ever known to man, while also parading himself around the yacht with a gin and tonic in hand.
He’s drunk. You see it in the way he laughs at Daniel’s joke, overly excited and almost doubling down in a hysterical laugh – Max always laughs at whatever comes out of Daniel’s mouth, but when he’s drunk it’s definitely worse – and how he has to grab onto the railing to keep his balance.
His glass is empty, so he excuses himself to go pour some more of his favorite drink. But then he sees you watching him and a big smile breaks out on his face.
“Hey, baby.” He says plopping down next to you, the couch is so comfy that you’ve find yourself dozing off a few times. But the heat has made it impossible for you to catch your sleep. “What are you doing here all alone, pretty girl?”
Oh, yes. He also likes to call you all the petnames in the world when he’s drunk.
You scoff, brushing a strand of hair out of his sweaty forehead. “Jus’ watching you flirt with Daniel.”
“I was not!” He moves away, crossing his arms over his chest like a scolded child.
It is in that exact moment that your gaze is drawn to his legs. His shorts have gone up a little too much, revealing the pale skin of his thick thighs.
Your mouth waters at the sight.
Images of those thighs wrapped around your waist as you fu—
“What you looking at?” Max’s tone is teasing, a smirk dancing on his lips. He knows exactly what you’re looking at.
Your eyes snap up to his, heat going up your chest all the way to your face.
“Oh, shut up.” You bite back, forcing yourself to look away. You raise your own glass of gin and tonic to your lips just to have something to do.
Max keeps on looking at you, you can feel his blue eyes boring holes in the side of your face.
Eventually, he stands up. Right in front of you, so you have no other option than to look at him.
"See something you like?" He asks, chewing on his bottom lip.
You're about to open your mouth to say something witty when he just simply turns around and goes back to the rest of the group.
If your eyes remained fixed on his ass, nobody needs to know that.
#2
Max is training on the terrace. It's a chilly day in Monaco, so he decided to skip going to the gym and, instead, to do his daily training at home.
On one side it's good because he just got back from Italy and you've missed him. You want to spend as much time as you can with him before he needs to travel to the next country.
But on the other side, it’s torture.
You were enjoying a really good book you picked up last week, an orange juice by your side on the lounge chair when he decided it was a good idea to start training mere feet away from you in those stupid shorts of his.
Now you’re trying to make out the words in the page as he sits at the other side of the terrace, legs spread and feet planted on the floor as he does some lifting. His hair is long, so a few strands of hair fall over his eyes.
Your gaze is set in the way the muscle of his thigh tenses as he lifts the weights, then relaxing again while a groan falls from his lips. He repeats the action again. And again.
By the fourth time, you feel overwhelmed and short of breath.
"You've been reading the same page for a while now. Is it that good?" There's a glint of amusement in his eyes and a smirk gracing his lips.
"Uh?" You ask dumbly, swallowing the lump in your throat.
All the blood in your body flows to your face as thoughts of feeling his thighs tensing under your hands while doing something completely different flood your mind.
"You can at least pretend," He snorts, setting the weights aside.
Max grabs a towel to wipe the sweat off his face, his other hand brushing through his hair.
He's so unfairly hot.
You need to cool down. You need to do something.
+1
You successfully avoided your boyfriend the rest of the morning, deciding instead to go to your room to actually read the book. Being as far away as possible from him is what you needed. It’s not fair he looks so good lifting weights.
That was until Max came into the room announcing he was going to take a shower. You didn’t even raised your head, you just kept reading.
But then he emerged from the bathroom wearing nothing more than his boxers.
If you were having a hard time with his shorts before, it is so much worse now. You don’t even know how he put them on, his thighs are one second away from ripping them into pieces.
“Stop ogling me.” He’s drying his hair with a towel, drops of water falling down his naked chest.
You pout, leaving your book aside. You know you will not be reading any more pages today, not while he’s standing there like a sweet waiting to be devoured. “It’s not my fault you have such huge thighs.”
“Thanks, I guess?”
“Don’t be like that,” You get out of bed, walking to him. “I know you like it when I thirst over you.”
“Yes. Because I love being perceived as nothing more than a sex symbol.” Max takes one of his hundreds Red Bull shirts out of the closet, but before he has time to put it on, you throw it across the room.
Max’s complaint dies in his throat when he sees the hunger in your eyes.
“Admit that you like it.” You plant your hands on his chest, pushing him backwards until his back is against the wall.
The towel falls from his hands and he swallows with a barely perceptible nod of his head.
You shake your head, grabbing a pillow from the bed and throwing it in front of him. “No, I want you to say it.” You maintain eye contact as you fall down on your knees, it’s almost funny the way his eyes widen.
His jaw goes slack when he feels your hands on the waistband of his underwear.
“Yes,” He sighs, closing his eyes tightly. “I like it.”
You coo, placing a hand over your heart. “See?” You feign pitying him. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Max whines when you finally pull his boxers down, his already growing cock springing free.
“I don’t know,” He breathes out, looking down at you. “what you like about my thighs so much.”
You have to laugh, a finger moving up and down his left thigh. “What do you mean? Haven’t you look at how,” You grab his thighs, fingers sinking into the muscled flesh. “thick they are? You have no idea how much I want to bite them.”
“Do it.” The words are out of his mouth before he has time to think about it. Not that he doesn’t want you to do it, it’s that if he thinks too much about it he might lose his mind.
You look into his eyes, so blue and deep as the sea, before looking at what you have right in front of you.
The object of your most recent fantasies.
Max takes a sharp intake of breath as you lean in, but instead of immediately biting into the flesh, you run your tongue from the bottom all the way to the top, stopping right before you reach his pelvis. His cock twitching at having your mouth so close.
"Think of how pretty these would look with my teeth marks." Max groans, fisting his hands by his sides. "You should definitely use those tiny shorts now to show everyone what you let me do."
Max can't say anything, his mind going fuzzy at the edges already. He feels like his whole body is on fire.
You keep running your tongue over his left thigh, occasionally sucking a mark. Only when you're pleased with your work, you move to the other one.
"Plea—" A moan gets ripped from his throat when you sink your teeth into his thigh, your hand brushing against his cock. The second time you do it, Max thrust his hips up at nothing.
"So fucking perfect." You moan seeing the final result. "I can't believe you're letting me mark you."
Max is about to reply when you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.
"Oh, fuck!"
With the help of your hand you start stroking what doesn't fit in your mouth, the taste and how big it feels against your tongue making you moan.
Max tangles his fingers in your hair. His vision going blurry as you twirl your tongue around the tip of his cock and, without warning, taking as much as you can in your mouth until your nose touches his pelvis. You have to stop yourself for a few seconds to breathe through your nose, before pulling back until only the head is in your mouth. Slowly, and lifting your gaze up to his, you start bobbing up and down, hollowing your cheeks.
Max's moans and pants fill the room, mixing with the slurping sounds of your mouth and tongue working on his shaft.
You drag your teeth along the sides of his cock, and Max hisses in response. "Fuck, do it again." And you do it, pulling an obscene sound from him.
When Max looks down, he finds the hand that's not on his thigh, feeling the muscles tensing under it, between your legs, moving in circles against your clit.
Max thrusts his hips up, not being able to hold back, and immediately regrets it when he hears you cough. But then you’re pull off him, a grin on your face as you wipe the saliva with the back of your hand.
"Do it again."
That's the only thing you say before taking him deeper into your throat.
Max pulls lightly on your scalp, and you moan around him. It makes him do it again as he start thrusting his hips into your mouth, the gagging sounds almost enough to send him over the edge.
"Fuck, look at you. So pretty with your mouth full of my cock."
You moan and squeeze his thighs, hearing his breathing get more ragged lets you know how close he is to his release.
So, you pull off him.
Max groans at not feeling the warmth of your mouth around him anymore. He was so close to spilling down you throat.
"On the bed." Your throat is sore and are in need of a glass of water. But it can wait.
It takes him a moment to process your words, but then he's moving and climbing into the bed.
You stand up, your knees hurting despite having the pillow underneath, and open the special drawer you two have in the closet.
Max's gasps makes you chuckle.
You take out Max's favorite harness and one of your favorite dildos. It's a little smaller than Max's huge cock. Just a little bit.
You leave it by Max's side as you climb on top of him. "Spread your legs." He does it, getting comfortable against the pillows. "More." You help him by bending his right knee, feet planted on the mattress.
You take your sweatpants and underwear off, before leaning over to grab some lube from the nightstand.
Max's blue eyes glaze over. You straddle his left thigh, a soft moan falls from your mouth when your cunt makes contact with his skin, and he flexes his thigh.
"You—," He groans, tilting his head back against the pillows. "You're already soaking my thigh." He says in a gasp, his hand finding your hip and helping you move against him. "Got turned on by sucking my cock, uh?" He teases you and all you can do is nod, at a loss of words, your clit dragging against his muscled thigh making you whimper.
You're overwhelmed by the pleasure, only able to moan his name over and over, and over again. Your eyelids fluttering shut when you grind just right against him.
But you have a plan, so without pausing the drag of your pussy, you grab the lube, popping the cap and coating two fingers.
Max looks intently as you warm your fingers before guiding them to where he needs you the most. He instinctively spreads his legs some more, giving you enough space.
Your cling onto Max's arm on your hip to keep moving against his thigh as you slip your index finger into the tight heat of Max's hole.
Max moans loudly. He doesn't know where to look, if at you bouncing on his thigh or at where your finger disappears inside of him.
"More," He grits his teeth on a whimper, closing his eyes for a second. "Please."
And who are you to say no? You slide your finger all the way in, pumping slowly until you have him moaning for more; so you add a second finger, scissoring them to open him up.
Your legs begin to shake, forcing Max to help you by tensing his muscles which makes it easier to grind against him. The angle is a little weird, but neither of you seem to care.
Max's hips thrust up to meet your fingers, which are now hitting his prostate on every stroke. He's out of breath, pre-cum pooling on his lower belly, and throws his head back, clenching around your fingers.
Seeing him so desperate only spurs you on.
Your climax takes you by surprise. White-hot pleasure erupts behind your eyelids with a broken moan. His name, Max, Max, Max echoing in the room. Head thrown back in pure ecstasy.
It takes you a moment to go back to yourself and when you do, Max has a desperate look on his face, jaw slack and eyebrows furrowed.
"You're so unfairly hot." Finally letting him know your thoughts from earlier. "You okay, baby?" You ask, teasingly. Moving your fingers slowly, staring intently down at his face.
"More." He cries out.
"You're doing so good for me, Max." You praise him, fucking your fingers in harder, making him moan louder. You love to make him moan like this.
When Max starts babbling, you know he's getting close. So, you pull your fingers out. He's shivers slightly, feeling desperate at being so close to his orgasm again but not being able to reach for it.
While Max is busy trying to control his breathing, you grab the harness to lube up the toy.
Max groans desperately when he feels you between his spread legs, the head of the dildo sliding easily into his hole.
You stare intently down at him and he grabs your hips to help you slide all the way in until your hips are pressed up against his ass. You place your hands on his thighs, and he immediately wraps them around your waist with enough force to keep you still, not letting you move.
You stare into each other's eyes, and then you're meeting halfway in a hungry and messy kiss. You feel like you can't breathe and need him to survive, and for the way he licks into your mouth you know he feels the same.
When you pull away, he nods at you to continue. You grip his hips, setting a brutal pace that has him groaning and fisting the sheets.
Max whines and squeezes his eyes shut, feeling you so deep it’s almost sucking the air out of him.
"Does it feel good?" You pant, fucking harder. The slapping of your skin against his so obscene it makes your cunt clench around nothing.
It's good, it's incredible even. But he needs more, he needs—
"I want to ride you."
Your brain buzzes, his words echoing in your head. "Yeah?" You slow down, biting your lip when you find his eyes, blue completely swallowed by black.
He helps you pull out and sit against the headboard, and you can't tear your eyes away from his bruised thighs, the love bites and teeth marked a reminder of your obsession with that specific part of him.
Max pushes himself up on his knees and straddles you, hovering over your cock. He maintains eye contact as he wraps his hands around it and slowly lowers himself.
His thighs clench as he feels the tip breaching his ring of muscles. It feels tighter, even though you've been inside of him moments ago. He manages to sink down completely, hissing at feeling so full.
"Just—give me a second." He whispers, one of his hands holding onto your shoulder.
Max lifts himself up, your cock almost slipping out, only the tip still inside, before letting himself fall down. He keeps that rhythm for a few minutes, adjusting to the feeling of you inside of him.
When he starts bouncing on your cock with a little more force, you start to thrust your hips up to meet him, ripping moan after moan from his throat.
"You feel so, shit, so good." He sighs, leaning in to connect your lips.
You moan into each other's mouths, your cock hitting that particular spot inside of him.
Max breaks the kiss and places his hands on your legs behind him, bracing himself as he rolls his hips, the new angle making his mind shut down completely.
"Good boy," You praise him, gaze flicking from his leaking cock to his bruised thighs clenching every time he pushes himself up. "Taking my cock so well. Look at you, so pretty."
You know you hit his prostate when he sobs, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.
His movements become sloppy, his thighs clenching with more force as he gets closer and closer to his orgasm.
A few more thrust with your fingers digging into his hips, and he's shooting a huge load of his cum across his stomach and even chest. He sees stars behind his eyes, his climax so intense he feels like passing out. He keeps on riding you through his orgasm, letting his head fall forward against your forehead. He only stops when starts to feel overstimulated.
Both of you stay silent for a few moments, trying to catch your breath. Only when Max feels like he's not going to pass out, he opens his eyes to see you already looking at him, a soft smile on your lips.
He kisses you softly. "So, what about my thighs? Really, I need to know because it's a little weird."
You huff, rolling your eyes. "It's not weird."
Max laughs, cupping your cheek. "Of course not."
"It is not!" You say indignantly, your thumbs drawing patterns on his hips. "It's like you being obsessed with my tits. I don't tell you it's weird."
"I have teeth marks all over my thighs. I won't be able to wear shorts for weeks."
"I didn't hear you complaining when I was on my knees." You shrug as Max gests comfortable on top of you, the toy still sitting inside of him.
"Shut up, you weirdo." He jokes.
"You love me."
He looks at you, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss. "I do."
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do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. | © verstappen-cult, 2024.
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voidcat · 4 months ago
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kaiser puts his tattooed hand anywhere on you (your neck especially) and takes pics of it to make it his lockscreen so that everyone can see (<- his own way of paying u back for the marks you left on his neck)
um excuseme??? why are u on my ass??? coming to MY HOUSE and ATTACKING me!??!!!?! do i need to get a restraining order against you two huh is that it....... big sigh uhhh whatever notes: michael kaiser x gn! reader. suggestive content, mdni. what rye has said ig.. i elaborated a little
Michael Kaiser is a man who knows best to get under someone's skin. From countless interactions you've observed over the time be it during matches or behind the scenes- that, you're certain.
And from experience too, much to your chagrin.
A pain in the ass and a walking migraine inducing component as he may be, there is something to him that you always find yourself in the same room, drawn to your demise- not like a moth, no, you'd like to hold hope that whatever runs between the two of you isn't somthing as blinding and vulnerable as that- but you cannot deny there is still an attraction none the less.
Analytical and always knowing where to hit where it hurts most, everything he does is with a purpose. Be it the way he he behaves, speaks with people, which name he uses, whether he gives in to their desperation for a physical connection or remain a cold composure. This, of course, ends with an extremely touchy Kaiser on your side that you've learnt to make peace and live with.
It's almost depressing to think about it, really. How your resolve couldnt hold out any longer and you admited defeat on this front. But what's to follow is somewhat nice, you try to comfort himself. Always a hand around your waist, on your thigh, fingers intervining with yours-- a constant reminder that he is right besides you and he'll never leave you.
Other behaviours though, begin to present after a while- a recent development, you write them off as. Now his hands find your shoulders, kneading into your skin like you're dough for him to shape, placed on your abdomen and rubbing gentle circles, a finger at the nape of your neck, playing with the sensitive skin there; the last one he seems to favor more than the rest. You don't really alert to the action until you catch sight of his phone one day.
For someone who likes to show off, it hadn't even fazed you one bit when you saw a photo album dedicated to the two of you that's not quite safe for public eye. This is Kaiser after all, every oddity he seems to display soon become the new default in your mind- ruining your experience of the world.
So when your thumb scrolls down the numerous photos you don't even recall being taken- mostly without either of your faces but his hand and parts of your body as clear as day- you cannot even find it in you to react.
Your finger comes to a stop as you open a photo in particular. His hand wrapped around your neck, thumb pressing right below your carotis artery, from his rough hold parts of your skin already flushed and his index seeming to be lightly trailing your collarbones with his middle finger to keep company. As you stare at the photograph, you can feel his hand on you again, his digits dancing on your neck, moving up and down slowly, making sure to idle and stroke the areas where you strongly react. Chuckling at the sounds and twitches you make whenever he pinches and presses against a sensitive spot. You'd think maybe this is his payback, or just a preliminary to it.
You've got to admit, from an artist viewpoint, the photos do look.. pleasing to the eye. An aesthetic sense to them, the colorful dark lightning only adding to the atmosphere.
With a sudden shake of your hand, you close the app and put down his phone in a rush but his laughter reaches you before. "What were you staring at so intensely, hm? Found something you like?"
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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 11 months ago
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🧠🪱Wiggly Wednesday🪱🧠
(This one ran away with me, whoops)
Batboy_Kas: Um ... dude, what? 🤨
This is the dm that greets Steve when he pulls his phone from his back pocket to check his Instagram. One confused frown, some scrolling, and one near-heart-attack later, he concludes that he forgot to lock his screen when he put the phone away earlier.
Which caused him to somehow end up on this random stranger's profile.
And go to his DMs.
And send him a GIF.
Not just any GIF. One of a grotesquely round and jiggly, animated ass. There's a text beneath the GIF. It reads: 2iggnag lg9gajdgka hfhdgjy.
"Aw, fuck!" Steve swears, neck prickling with heat as he types his reply.
Steve_Hairington: Shit, sorry. My ass typed that 😅
Batboy_Kas: Fitting choice of gif 🍑
Steve_Hairington: Yeah I guess
Batboy_Kas: You could say it's a ... smart ass
Steve snorts a laugh. What a dork! He's still debating if he should reply or leave it at that when Batboy_Kas sends his next message.
Batboy_Kas: So ... not even the tiniest chance you were flirting with me?
Steve_Hairington: Sorry dude. I prefer my men-
(He pauses to squint at the guy's profile pic. A cute little cartoon bat.)
-a little more human-shaped.
Batboy_Kas: Hey! That's just bc you've never had a creature of the night b4 🦇😉
Steve_Hairington: 🤣🤣🤣 Nice try, bat boy!
They end up texting (and flirting) regularly. Kas - named after some vampire dude from that dungeons and dipshits game Dustin enjoys - is a huge fantasy and music nerd, can keep up a string of banter for hours, and his dms quickly become the highlight of Steve’s days.
He knows better than to meet random faceless and nameless strangers from the internet, he really does. But when Kas says he's in town for work some two months later, Steve is a bit embarrassed at how fast he agrees to a date.
Kas doesn't really beat the vampire allegations when he shows up at their meeting point, skittish and nervous, clad in an oversized Metallica hoodie, drawn all the way over his head inspite of the sunny weather, dark shades obscuring his eyes.
He's cute, though. Sweet and almost shy without the distance and a screen between them, but still with that quick wit and edgy sense of humor Steve has come to like so much. A deep, rich voice that makes something inside Steve’s belly tingle, a hint of dark curls spilling out from his hood, and strong, calloused hands covered in rings, the edges of black tattoos disappearing into his sleeves. It makes Steve wanna take the stupid hoodie off him so that he can see all of him.
Which is exactly what he does when they take it to Kas's hotel room later that night. And God, the man is gorgeous. Dark, messy curls framing a pair of insanely dark brown eyes and the poutiest lips Steve has ever had the pleasure of kissing. An intricate web of tattoos that are just begging to be traced with his tongue.
Later, when they're lying together in an exhausted tangle of naked limbs and sweaty sheets, Steve snaps a photo and saves it as his phone background. He doesn't think much of it.
Until a week later, when Dustin opens his phone to read out a message while Steve is driving and starts shrieking so loudly they almost crash into a tree, bc why the fuck does Steve have a selfie of himself and Eddie Munson - frontman of the world famous metal band Corroded Coffin - on his phone and are you both naked, Steve???
Tagging some friends to share a brainworm of their own:
@cuips-not-cute @steddiecameraroll @postmodernau @oh-stars @steddie-island
@wynnyfryd @pennyplainknits @medusapelagia @hotluncheddie @sidekick-hero
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pleasantbread286 · 5 months ago
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I haven't drawn anything for a while. my X,W,D and shift button are broken. I have to plug another keyboard on my laptop to work. I also have to babysit my nephew almost everyday and I'm working on two different game projects but the main reason I didn't post anything for a while is because the flu has beaten my ass so badly I thought I'd never get out of bed.
Anyway thanks for the two person in Dm that checked up on me (well truth be told only one person did, the other dm was some dude who sent an unsolicited pic of his belly but since he looks fine...). I have also two fan art I need to work on. I'm going to put a lot of effort into those (I'm learning how to draw ponytails). If I haven't post anything within a week, just wait longer
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pandora-writes-one-piece · 28 days ago
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The Meet-Cute - Kid's Story - 14
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Source for pic
Imperfect 14
Word Count: 5845
Tags and Summary can be found here.
Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.
Notes: I meant to release this earlier. Gosh, this story has such a hold on me! But my blood pressure has been really low for the past two days, and I'm feeling a tad drained. Anyway! Here's another angsty chapter with a huge revelation. I hope you enjoy it! Tell me all about it, will you? (didn't reach 6k, but it got close!
Additional Note: Ughhh, this song is everything Killer is feeling! I'm crying!
Here's a Spotify Playlist I created for this story if you want to check it out!
Masterlist
Shanks dropped him off five minutes ago, but Killer still hasn’t found the courage to knock on his friend’s door. Thunder still echoes in the distance, but it’s so far away its rumble is nearly imperceptible. The rain is nothing more than a drizzle and a bad memory, the scent of damp earth obliterating the stench of pain and regret that Killer can still sense. 
He flexes his hand while a muscle tics in his jaw. His hand doesn’t hurt; he didn’t punch Kid that hard, but it’s like a lingering phantom pain from the accusation Kid sent his way. It was untrue and justified the punch, but it wasn’t completely unfounded.
The feelings were there. He’d just chosen not to act on them. 
Did that make the whole ordeal better?
With a sigh, he shakes his head and knocks twice on the door. No answer. 
“Open up, man. It’s me.” Killer knocks again. Still no answer. “For fuck’s sake.” He jiggles the handle, and it opens. Unlocked. 
Careless.
The place reeks of alcohol, and the stench stings his eyes. The blinds are still drawn, and the dim light from the open door reveals empty bottles and cans scattered across the floor. Either Kid got right back to drinking once he got home, or he hasn’t cleaned up since he came back from the car show.
A bottle clinks against Killer’s boot and rolls away to join its brethren. 
The latter option seems more likely. Kid’s just piling up empty bottles and regrets. 
Killer walks to the window and opens the blinds to let in the meager light from the overcast sky, and Kid groans in response to his actions. 
“You alive, man?” He opens another set of blinds and the windows too, to air out the place, before closing the door and walking towards the couch where Kid is sprawled. 
The couch was always too big for Kid, but in the state he’s in, it’s an especially obvious fact. His friend has one leg propped over the arm and the other on the floor. There’s crusted blood on his lip and a defeated expression on his face. 
“Barely…” Kid replies, swinging his arm over his eyes. Either to shield them from the light or to keep the shame out of Killer’s sight. “Came over to finish the job?” Kid snorts. “My jaw’s still workin’.”
“Should’ve hit you harder then, moron.” Killer looks around the chaos and flexes his hands, his body itching to do something, to clean this all up, to fix it. “I didn’t come here to finish nothing. I came to see if your head was still far up your ass.”
Kid just snorts again, and that’s answer enough. 
Silence stretches, and Killer shuts down another urge. This one tells him to make some coffee and cook some breakfast for his best friend. Not yet, he thinks. He still needs to get his shit together. 
Finally, Kid speaks, his face still buried in the crook of his arm, as if facing Killer could tear him apart. 
“How is she…?” The words sound raspy and pained. Killer stares at Kid with his arms crossed. He wonders whether he should answer this or not, but of course he answers it. Of course he does. 
“Broken, lost, a mess. Just like you. Minus the booze.” Kid stiffens but still doesn’t look at him. Killer can still feel your broken sobs against him, the warmth of your tears, the sound of your heart shattering. “It was fucking overkill, Kid. What the fuck were you thinking?”
“I’m no good for her, man. Ye know that.”
“I think she should be the one to decide that. You just have to do your fucking job and love her back. Be there for her. Be the man I know you are. That’s all.”
Kid stands on the couch abruptly, his prosthetic hand gripping the arm tightly, because everything is surely still spinning. “I ain’t that man! I can never be that man, don’t ya get it? Fuck! I’m wreckage! I’m scraps! She deserves better!”
Killer kicks the nearest bottle, and it slams into the wall, shattering into pieces. “Then fucking change! Not just for her, but for you!” He takes a few steps forward and leans down, blue eyes burning with fury as Kid does nothing but blink back at him, mouth slightly agape. 
“You say you’re no good? Fine! Be better! You convinced yourself you’ll only hurt her, you keep proving that one right. So just fucking learn to stop! Go to therapy! Get clean! Do whatever it takes to be a better man! You don’t run or quit, for fuck’s sake!”
Killer’s heart thunders away in his chest. He was always the one to lay down the tough love to his friend, but it has never been this personal, this gut-wrenching, this painful. 
Kid swallows hard, his throat bobbing up and down as he runs a hand over his face. “It’s not that simple,” he growls. 
“No. It’s not. It never is,” Killer whispers, placing one hand on Kid’s bare shoulder. “But you don’t fucking quit. Not when someone like her loves you the way she does.”
“Did,” Kid scoffs. “She don’t love me anymore. I made fuckin’ sure of that.” Silence. “I saw her face, man. She looked at me like I really am the monster everyone talks about. It fuckin’ haunts me.” He shakes his head, lips curling into a snarl. “She’ll move on! Aye, maybe we’re both in the shite now, but she’ll move on. Eventually.”
Killer takes a step back, taking him in, his throat tight with emotion. “You think what you’re doing is noble? That you’re being a hero and a martyr, letting her go even if it hurts you both? Fuck you, Kid. You’re not being righteous. You’re being an ass. And a fucking coward. You’re just running from yourself.”
Fuck. Fuck. Too harsh, too much. 
But he can’t stop now. “This is not for her! You can paint it that way just to make yourself feel better, but it doesn’t make it true.” Killer gestures around the room, at the mess, at the broken bottles, at the stench and shame ingrained in these walls. “This is you running, just like you’ve been doing since we got sent back home! This is you putting your tail between your fucking legs and avoiding accountability for your own fucking actions!”
Kid stands up, breathing hard, chest heaving with ragged breaths as his eyes wander around the room, still not meeting Killer’s.
“I’m not fuckin’ runnin’.”
“Then why the fuck are you surrounded by your own wreckage instead of crawling out? Why are you beating yourself up instead of fighting back?”
Kid’s hand clenches into a fist, but he doesn’t answer. He can’t. 
“You don’t get to use her as an excuse for your shit, Kid. It’s about time to take a stand. She saw something in you, she fought for you, teeth and nails, even when you kept breaking her heart, little by little. She came back. She got up and tried again. It’s your fucking turn to do it. To fight.”
Killer’s gaze burns into Kid, even if he doesn’t look back. “It’s not easy! Fuck, Kid, it’s everything but. You’re allowed to feel like shit. You’re allowed to feel worthless and guilty. But there comes a time when you just have to stamp your fucking foot down and choose to be a better man. That time is now, brother.”
Kid finally stares at Killer, eyes narrowed with guilt and shame, but still not enough flame to ignite a fight. Not just yet… fuck.
After a few seconds, he sits back down, elbows resting on his knees, eyes facing the floor. “Ye done?”
“Fuck no. Not even close.” But he is. For now, at least. Killer’s sure some of his words got through Kid’s thick skull. Now he needs to let him mull them over, taste them on his tongue, and see if this time his best friend is willing to rise up and fight for himself. “You know where to find me when you decide to stop being an idiot. If not, I’ll be back.”
Kid doesn’t say anything else as Killer exits the room. The last thing Killer sees is Kid’s hand hovering over another bottle.
He doesn’t stick around to witness his choice.
-*-
It still smells like him.
You tossed his jacket into the closet and closed the door, drew the curtains, and crawled into bed to hide beneath the covers, but it’s like the whole room smells like Kid.
The hollow ache in your chest expands, threatening to swallow you whole. He did it. He finally pushed you away for good. Everything you fought for went out the window the moment he chose to bleed you dry instead of fighting too. 
You know that girl was just a pawn. You know for sure he didn’t feel anything for her. Maybe not even attraction. She was just a tool he used to hurt you deeply. A final blow to make sure you stayed away for good.
And fuck… this time, he might’ve succeeded. 
The fact that he did that after you told him you loved him… 
You swallow down a sob and push the covers over your head. Funny, you thought your tears had dried up by now. 
Your phone lies forgotten on your desk, so you don’t have any idea how much time passes. Soon enough, you hear your dad’s truck parking, followed by the door opening and his footfalls on the stairs. 
A soft knock at your door announces his presence, but you stay quiet. He might be ready to talk, but you’re not sure you are. 
“Bug?” Shanks pushes the door open and peeks in. You don’t answer, but he enters the room anyway. “Errands ran late, so I brought you some lunch.” You don’t turn, keeping your face to the wall and head tucked under the covers. The warm scent of greasy food hits you, and you groan, curling into yourself.
“Not hungry?” You groan again, and Shanks sighs. He leaves your room for a moment, and when he returns, he’s not carrying the food. “Sweetheart, let me look at you, please?”
You let that sit for a second. There’s a good chance you’ll break down in tears the moment you look at him. Also, there’s that lingering feeling of shame that hiding beneath the covers helps to mask. Shanks told you this was going to happen, but you thought you knew better. 
With a sigh, you pull the covers down and turn to face him. He tries to smile, but it's a weary grimace that twists his lips. You must look like hell. 
“Hey.” He bends down and gives you a peck on your forehead before grabbing the chair from your desk and turning it around. “How are you doing?” Shanks sits, resting an elbow on the back of the chair, tilting his head. 
You shrug, facing the ceiling. The old paint is still chipped and peeling in places from the fluorescent shooting stars you stuck up there when as a child. 
Shanks stays quiet for a few beats before adding, “You don’t have to tell me what happened. And I’m not going to say I told you so. Trust me. I wish I had been wrong. It wouldn’t hurt as much.”
You fight the prickling in your eyes, but a stubborn tear still slips down unimpeded. 
“It’s just,” he starts. Then he hesitates with a deep sigh. “I saw it coming, baby, I did. And now I’m kicking myself for not protecting you from heartbreak…” He looks down and groans. “Again…”
You shut your eyes tight, forcing more tears to stay in, even though they still find a way to spill over. It’s not your dad’s fault. It wasn’t with Ichiji, and it’s not with Kid. 
Maybe you’re just undeserving of love? 
“I know it hurts, Bug, I do. And I wish I could make it better. But time will make it better…”
Time… fucking time. You thought you had all the time in the world. Time to help Kid build himself up, to help him realise he’s not a monster, not bad, not just broken. But no. He had to ruin that. 
“I told him I loved him.” Your voice is barely a whisper. “I told him that, and in the next moment, he used it against me. Just to make sure I left.” You sniff, a sob clawing its way through your defenses. “And the worst part? He thinks he’s protecting me.”
Shanks presses his lips together before reaching out and taking your hand in his. His thumb draws soothing circles on your skin, but you can feel him holding back his feelings, throat working, and jaw flexing. 
“That sounds like a coward’s way out.” He clears his throat, trying to dispel the anger. “That’s not how you love someone. He doesn’t get to do that. He—” 
Shanks cuts himself off and lets out a deep sigh. 
“I thought I could make it work. That I was enough. That he’d want to fight for me. For us.” 
Your dad grips your hand tighter. “You are enough. This is not your fault,” he snarls. “You’re worth fighting for, and don’t ever think otherwise. Shame’s on him for not seeing it.”
You nod at his words, though you’re not really absorbing them. It’s all still too fresh, too raw. You just want to close your eyes and rest, drift away, pretend it never happened. 
“I’m here, sweetheart. For whatever you need. You want to yell, break stuff, cry… call me, okay?” He squeezes your hand, and you nod numbly. “I brought the food downstairs. Give me a holler if you want to eat.”
You nod again, and Shanks fills your water glass before pausing in the doorway for a beat. 
“Love you, sweetheart.”
You hum in response, too tired to speak the words that damned you the day before.
-*-
Kid relocated to the garage in the middle of the afternoon, just to give his idle hands something to do besides drinking. 
It didn’t work.
So now, instead of being slumped on the couch upstairs, he’s slumped on the couch in the corner of the garage, his ghosts keeping him company again. Ever since the party, they’ve refused to go away, no matter how much he drinks.
They’re just… there. Judging, taunting, punishing. And there’s nothing he can do about it. 
Part of him wants to consider Killer’s words, that he’s worth something underneath all that garbage; that if he works a little harder on himself, he might be someone worth loving. But every time his mind starts to consider the possibilities, to imagine a life without ghosts, without misery, and… with you… he’s interrupted by the sneers and taunts of his dead friends, reminded once more why he’s undeserving. 
When he hears the garage door opening, he knows it’s not Killer. It’s not his friend’s easy gait approaching. Kid straightens, and as soon as his eyes meet the visitor’s, he stiffens, the grip on the bottle tightening. 
“Aye, let’s get this over with.” Kid angles his jaw, offering up the part of his face that’s not completely busted up. “Killer fucked up my left, so if ye’d take my right, I’d appreciate the kindness.”
Shanks takes two more steps and then stops. His eyes narrow as he takes in Kid’s sorry state, then wander around the garage, taking in more empty bottles and cans that litter the place. He presses his lips together, and Kid can feel hot waves of anger rolling off him. 
“I’m not going to hit you, Eustass. Though I’m glad Killer did.” Shanks runs his hand through his hair, tightening his lips once more to keep from snarling. “I wasn’t going to come. I really wasn’t. You see, I’m trying this thing where I become a better parent.” He snorts. “And that comes with respecting her boundaries, but… shit, Eustass…”
Kid sets the bottle down and leans back, feigning indifference, but he fails. Shanks’ rage isn’t loud, it’s so much worse: controlled. Calculated. Intimidating all on its own. It simmers under the surface, controlled and contained, even though Kid knows that if he let it explode, it would be devastating. 
“My baby girl is back home, breaking because she poured her heart out to you and you trampled it. Just like I fucking warned you not to.”
Even though he’s cursing and pacing the space in front of Kid, Shanks’ voice never rises. Barely even wavers. 
“You think you’re protecting her? That by pushing her away, you’re being a hero, keeping her unharmed?” Shanks shakes his head, and his voice drops further. “It takes a special kind of coward to do that, you know? Because if you cared for her even a fraction as much as she feels for you, you would’ve fought.”
Heat snickers to his right, Wire sighs and shakes his head, and Bubblegum pounds the workbench, trying to contain his laughter. Kid’s heart constricts, and he growls, baring his teeth. And then he lowers his head and takes it. Because Shanks is right. And this is the wrong battle to fight. If he were going to fight, it would have been for you.
“I despise what you did to her, but I’m fucking glad that the action might finally make her realise what a useless shit you are.” Shanks kicks an empty bottle and takes another step closer to Kid. 
He faces your father, raising his chin instead of cowering away. Enough of being a coward, enough of that. Fuck.
“You wanna destroy yourself? Drink yourself to death? Wallow in your own self-loathing? Fine.” Shanks’ voice drops lower, eyes narrowing like a predator. “Become the wreckage you think you are.”
Kid holds his breath, stands by the accusations because they hit too close to home. But he does not look away.
“But you do not get to drag my daughter down with you.” Shanks points a finger at him in warning. “You stay the fuck away from her. You do not get to try and fix this. You do not get to be a selfish bastard and pull her back into your fucking misery just to stamp on her heart again!”
The fire in Shanks’ eyes rivals the color of his hair. Kid grits his teeth. His first instinct is to fight back. He doesn’t take shit from anyone. But Shanks is just protecting you, and that is exactly what Kid is trying to do, too. 
Even though he’s failing miserably. 
So he clenches his fists and swallows down all his rage, taking in every word, every warning, every threat in silence. And then, with a herculean effort, he dips his chin in understanding.
“You made your fucking choice. Now live with it. Just know that if she spills more tears over your sorry ass, I won���t be as forgiving.”
They stare at each other, and Kid keeps fighting back his instinct to rage or to mock. He grinds his teeth, clenches his fist, and evens his breath before opening his mouth, “I wouldn’t expect ye to.”
Shanks holds his stare for another beat before he turns his back on him and walks away. 
-*-
“It’s been three days, Killer. She’s not eating anything.” Shanks sighs, pacing the kitchen. “She’s surviving on water alone. I don’t know what to do! I’m taking her to the clinic. I—”
Killer places one hand on Shanks’ shoulder, trying to calm him down. 
Three days. Three fucking days of hell. Killer’s been drifting from your house to Kid’s, trying to pick up all the pieces you two keep leaving behind, trying to patch you up as best he can, so you’re both whole when this all blows through. 
But it’s been hell on earth. 
You refuse to eat and spend your days curled up in bed, only getting up to use the bathroom and drink water. Killer spends hours by your side, trying to get you to talk, laugh, be you, but the best he gets is hums. You’re in a depressive state, and Shanks is not overreacting. Perhaps he should take you to the clinic. 
Kid, on the other hand, just keeps spiraling further and further. Killer thought his initial conversation had gotten something out of him, that his friend might actually consider getting help. But he’s only gotten worse. If Killer thought Kid was at rock bottom before, he was wrong. He’s found a way to dig himself even deeper, and it’s getting harder to help him climb out.
He keeps saying his ghosts don’t leave him. He drinks and he fights. Killer forced him to stay inside last night, claiming to need his help with something he made up last minute, but he’s not sure if the same trick will work today. Kid’s running out of time. He’s about to hit the destruct button for good. 
So before he does that, Killer plans to step in. 
But you first… you first. 
Killer removes a container from a bag and opens a cabinet, searching for a bowl. “I made her a hearty soup. Gonna try and get her to eat it, okay?” Killer hates that his voice already sounds defeated, like he knows he’s going to fail. “If she doesn’t eat it, I’ll help you take her to the clinic.”
Shanks slumps into the kitchen chair and nods, his hand running through the scruff of beard he hasn’t shaved in two days, his eyes restless. The soup is still hot. Killer made enough for you and Kid. In his opinion, comfort food is halfway to a healthy recovery. In both your cases, he’s hoping it’s the first step towards finally getting you out of your spiral. 
He ladles two scoops into a bowl and grabs a spoon and a napkin. Each step up the stairs to your room is a broken plea to whichever deity might be listening. He needs you to eat. 
Killer knocks, but he knows better than to expect a reply, so after a few minutes, he pushes the door open, sighing when he notices no difference from yesterday. The curtains are drawn, the blanket pulled up to your ears, and despair clings to the walls. 
“Hey, love. How are you?” The chair is there for him. You don’t move it, and he stopped doing it, trying to purposely leave it in the middle of the room to see if you’d get up and put it away. 
You don’t. 
So he places the bowl on your nightstand, pulls the curtains to let in some light, and sits, leaning in to observe you. You lie in bed all day, but you don’t rest. There are heavy bags under your eyes, and your face looks pale and withdrawn. 
You’re withering away. 
“I made soup. I know you’re gonna love it. I don’t wanna brag, but I’m the best cook in this town.” Your lip twitches like you’re about to smile but quickly falls back, your eyes boring a hole in the wall. “Can you just try it? A few bites? Please…”
Nothing. 
Killer’s chest tightens, and his jaw clenches. He stares at the steam curling slowly from the bowl, then back at your unmoving form, then closes his eyes, his breath shuddering with a heavy exhale. 
“I’ll show you my face,” he states. You stop breathing for a moment, then slowly turn your head to stare at him, blinking softly, trying to process whether he’s speaking the truth. Killer swallows hard. “I’ll make you a deal. You eat that soup and you get up. You go about your day, and you start living again. And I’ll show you.”
A fleeting memory of a drunken you asking him to show you his face floats by his mind’s eye. How you made him claim that he’d show you his face if you ever needed cheering up. 
Well… this is it. 
You hold your breath, your weary eyes holding his ransom. He nods again, assuring you it’s true, he’ll do it. So you let out that breath and sit up slowly. Without breaking eye contact, you reach for the bowl with trembling hands. It takes you a while, but you eat more than half the portion before your stomach starts to complain. 
Killer has to bite his lip to contain his excitement. You fucking ate. You chose to take that step. Finally. Fucking finally. 
“I ate…” Your voice sounds raspy and affected from days of disuse, but it’s the most beautiful thing he’s heard recently. 
“Yeah…” Killer nods, reaching to take the bowl from your hands, buying himself some time before he has to compose himself. “You did. And you will get up? Get out of bed?”
You nod slowly, and he raises his brow at you, expecting something else. 
“I promise, Kill.”
Killer’s heart swells. It’s a beginning. It’s a win. It’s a fucking celebration. He has to close his eyes for another moment because, for a hot minute there, he thought that what Kid had done was irreparable. 
“Alright.” He sighs, reaching for the knot in his bandana and untying it with precise movements. After the accident, he never let anyone see his face besides Kid. No one. So he won’t pretend he’s not terrified of showing it to you, to the one person that matters most. 
But he’s not a coward. And he made a deal. 
The knot breaks, and he closes his eyes for a second before letting the fabric slip. The air is warm and stale, but the skin on his jaw and cheek is extra sensitive, so he sucks in his breath to adjust as he follows your reaction closely. 
Your eyes widen, lips parting slightly. Your gaze falls on his permanently curved lips, scarred from the burning kiss of flames. Then they follow the remaining scar tissue across his cheek, down his jaw, and around his nape, where the flames licked and lapped on that fateful day. 
Your hand twitches, and then you raise it, meaning to touch him. He flinches briefly, and you catch your breath. You both adjust to the novelty before he nods, and your fingers caress him gently. You use a feather-light touch, but everything feels heightened. 
Killer can’t remove his eyes from yours as you’re standing so close to his face. He sees the curve of your lips, the rise and fall of your chest; he feels the warmth of your breath and the curiosity in your eyes. 
A slight dip. Just a tiny movement, and he would be able to kiss you. 
Fuck.
“I’m—”
“Beautiful,” you finish for him. He was going to say hideous. Because that’s what he is. Who in their right mind would take one look at his scars and call them beautiful? Call him beautiful? 
“You don’t have to lie for my sake…” The words barely find their way out of his lips. You’re still too close.
“I’m not lying, Kill,” you whisper, your eyes catching his now, making a mess out of the once steady beat of his heart. “How did this happen?” you ask softly, your gaze mercifully retreating back to his face. 
Killer clenches his jaw. He can’t share the full story, he doesn’t know what Kid wants to share or if he’ll ever want to share it all. 
A tiny, selfish part of him tells him that this is also his story, and he could tell you if he wanted, but Killer shuts that beast down before it has a chance to transform and overtake him. 
“Our last mission… the one that… fell to shit,” he murmurs. “This was from a close-range explosion… I… Kid didn’t get out of the way in time, so I… forced him.”
I shielded him. It’s what Killer did, really. But he won’t say it like that. He doesn’t resent Kid for it, since he also lost an arm in that explosion. And they both lost so much more than that. 
You still have your fingers pressed against his ugly face. You’re still too close to him. So he sees the way your nose scrunches, eyebrows shooting up. 
“But… I saw the army picture in Kid’s garage. You had the bandana on there. Was it taken after? Because Kid had both arms in it…”
Killer swallows hard, his eyes turning to the side as he scrunches the black fabric of his bandana. He’s itching to cover his face again, he feels too exposed, like he’s baring his heart out to you. 
“It was taken before. I never liked my smile. I used to wear the bandana for photos or videos, mostly. After… after, it just became permanent. It’s part of who I am now. I don’t want to bear the pity stares or see the disgust on other people’s faces.”
You shift slightly, pulling yourself even closer to him as you cup his cheek with both hands. It’s too much. Too close. Too overwhelming.
“You’re not disgusting, Kill. I’ll say it as many times as it takes: you’re beautiful.”
His throat works as he swallows down the emotions, and he nods because he can’t trust himself enough to speak. You let your hands fall to your lap but don’t retreat back into bed. 
“Can I see it?” you ask.
“See what?”
“Your smile…”
No. 
Killer shakes his head slowly, but when your eyes narrow, pleading, he falters. He’s always hated his smile. But, shit, if there’s someone he’d willingly show it to, it’s you…
“Maybe some other time, love, okay?”
He must sound really weary, because you nod softly and finally fall back, leaning against the headboard with a deep exhale, like you’ve been holding the weight of the world on your chest and he just helped relieve it. 
“I’ll hold you to it, too, you know?” you joke, a ghost of a smile twitching your lips upwards, and Killer’s heart skips a beat. You’re smiling again. Fuck yes. 
“Wouldn’t expect it otherwise, City Girl.”
A comfortable silence envelops the room while he fastens the bandana back into place, tying the knots easily like he’s done a thousand times. Except the fabric feels tighter this time, abrasive against his soft skin, begging him to stop hiding, perhaps. 
No one has touched his face in years. No one but himself and doctors has even touched his scars. It’s fitting that you’re the first one to do it. For a fleeting moment, he wonders what would’ve happened if he let you see his smile.  
He sighs and pushes that thought away, because it stings just thinking about it. Instead, he finishes the knot and watches you. You’re looking out the window, with that slight pull of your lips still present. There’s a small light behind your eyes now, something he thought was missing. 
God, he could stare at you for hours. 
“You’re gonna finish that soup later?” he asks instead, feeling gutted by reality. 
You nod softly, training your gaze back on his. “It was very tasty, Kill. I’ll finish it.”
“Good,” he states, getting up and picking up the bowl. “I’ll toss it in the fridge, then. Don’t forget to get some fresh air, okay? You promised.”
You nod again, mock-saluting him in a way that crumbles some of the heaviness in his chest. You’re getting back to normal. You’ll get there. 
He opens the door, ready to head downstairs before you stop him.
“Killer?” He pauses. He will never grow tired of the way you say his name. Soft, sweet, asking for nothing else but his attention. “Thank you. For… everything.”
He grits his teeth hard and nods once, just before closing the door as fast as he can. Just before words he can’t say spill out of his goddamned mouth. You’re recovering, and that’s all that matters. 
As soon as Killer enters the kitchen, Shanks springs up from the chair, his eyes immediately landing on the half-empty bowl of soup. 
“Oh, thank God!” he blurts, slumping back down, a heavy sigh of relief parting his lips. 
“She says she’ll eat the rest later. I’ll store it in the fridge.” Killer feels exhausted, the weight of holding your and Kid’s recovery dragging him down. But he can’t give in to exhaustion yet. Not yet.
One down, one to go.
“You even got her to talk?” Shanks gets up and paces the kitchen as Killer busies himself with the soup. 
“She promised to get up and get some air, so hold her to that promise, will you, Shanks?”
“She did?” Shanks huffs out a laugh. “God, that’s— God! Thank you, Killer.”
Killer nods, placing the container in the fridge and closing the door, then washing the spoon and cleaning up the little mess he made. All in contemplative silence. He can feel Shanks’ gaze boring into his back, but he doesn’t dare meet the older man’s eyes.
Until Shanks speaks. 
“You love her.” Just three words, said with a finality that brooks no argument. Shanks speaks with the confidence of someone who’s lived through life, who knows things, who sees what people try to hide. 
Killer wipes his hands on the kitchen towel, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “She’s not mine to love,” he says after a moment of silence. 
“Doesn’t change the truth…” Silence. “Are you planning on telling her?”
“No.” Never. He won’t do that. Not to Kid, not to you, not even to himself. Because there’s no way anything good would come out of it. 
“You’re the better man,” Shanks deadpans, contempt weighing his words down. 
“He’s my brother, Shanks.” Killer turns to face him, his lips set in a fine line behind the bandana. “Not by blood, but… in every way that matters.”
“He’s not here. He’s not trying.” 
“You told him not to!” Killer argues, using the words he knows Shanks said to Kid because his friend told him, after much persuasion. 
“And would that stop you?” Killer hesitates. And that’s all Shanks needs to know his answer. “That’s what I thought.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Killer says, nipping the conversation in the bud. “He’ll get his shit together, and whatever has to happen, happens. It’ll be out of our hands. I’m just looking out for their happiness.”
Shanks holds his gaze, and Killer feels himself shrink. He’s looking at him like a father would. With care and worry, like someone who holds all the answers, but is waiting for him to figure them out. 
“And who looks out for yours?”
He doesn’t have an answer to that. 
So he grabs his stuff, mutters a quick goodbye, and flees to the porch, gulping in the fresh air with rapid breaths, trying to steady the harsh beating of his heart. Killer doesn’t care about himself. He can’t right now. Not when you and Kid need him. Not until he gathers all the broken pieces. 
Not until he fixes it. 
And even then… maybe you and Kid’s happiness is all he’ll ever allow himself to want.
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|Chapter 15|
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blazinbeautywrites · 4 months ago
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Behind the Scenes
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A/N: Whew I'm a lil rusty and this is my first time writing for Aaron so please bare with me.
Summary: Aaron has fallen for his co-star and has a feeling she wants him to. A night out with his favorite girl reveals just how much tension has been built up between them.
Length: 2,498 words
Genre: Fluff (kinda), smut
Aaron was irritated. His car was late, a bird shit on him, and to top it all off, he had to drop out of a role he really wanted due to a scheduling conflict. But all these little inconveniences dissipated once he heard her laughter. Kiki Davis. His beautiful and talented co-star whom he had a little crush on. When they first met she was so warm and welcoming and he immediately felt comfortable in her presence. He was drawn to her like a moth to a flame. Her energy was quite the contrast to the dark, gory horror film they were starring in together. He began making his way to hair and makeup when he heard her sweet voice.
“Okay I see you buff daddy all big and shit in ya lil suit.” Kiki said, smiling big trying to hold back her laughter.
“Girl you play too much but you look good your damn self, spin around for me real quick.” Aaron said, staring down at her shorter frame. Kiki raised her eyebrow at his boldness. Usually he would give her a cute laugh and blush a bit but she enjoyed this more confident version of him. Doing as he asked, she began spinning, showing off her beautiful figure in her cute little dress. He couldn't help staring at her ass and the way it sat up so nice. All he wanted to do was lift her dress up and spank her. Kiki noticed the way he was looking at her and gave him a wide smile. She moved closer to him and as she felt her nipples slightly graze his chest she scaled her eyes from his wide chest, neck, lips, and finally his beautiful eyes.
“You know, if you wanted to see my ass, all you had to do was ask.” And with a wink and a smile she was gone, whisked back to hair and makeup. Aaron was stuck. His own assistant ushered him to his waiting room. He had no idea how the hell he was going to make it through this press junket.
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“It was the craziest thing I'd ever seen. The way they just kept slipping and sliding, it was never ending.” Kiki laughed as she recounted watching the stunt people coordinate a chase scene on set while having to run on a bloody floor. Aaron was so enamored with her he completely missed the interviewer asking him the same question.
“Aaron? You okay my man?” The interviewer laughed, causing the audience to giggle.
“Yeah, you okay Aaron?” Kiki teased. Aaron had to recover fast so he said the first thing that came to mind.
“Ummmm, I actually loved Kiki's fight scene. I feel like she gave it her all and it was nice watching how she mixed her karate and boxing training. It was really cool to watch her in her element.” Aaron said as he looked at Kiki and smiled. Kiki winked at him and that sent a shiver down his back.
“Of course you'd pick one of my scenes as your favorite. I expect nothing less from the man who's madly in love with me.” Kiki joked. The whole audience “ooooohed” and laughed at that. Aaron looked Kiki dead in the eyes, not backing down.
“And so what if I am? What then?” Aaron challenged. Kiki's smile dropped, expecting him to go shy or laugh off her flirting like he always does. She was not prepared for him to flirt back. Oh the stakes have definitely been raised.
“Oh Aaron. Trust me baby, you don’t want this smoke.” Kiki said. Aaron still wasn’t backing down.
“Kiki, Kiki, Kiki………..I want all the smoke.” He replied. The audience erupted in chaos after he said that. Aaron and Kiki stared each other down with a pure, intense lust.
“Is it me or is it getting hot in here?” The interviewer asks, earning some laughs from the audience. The interview continues with a little more light flirting and more on set anecdotes from Aaron and Kiki.  Once the interview was done, their assistants came to bring them backstage. Before Kiki can enter her dressing room, she turns to Aaron, stopping him in his tracks. 
“Sooooo some of us are going to the Moonlight Lounge. You wanna come?” Kiki asks.
“I’d love to. I have to stop home first but I’ll meet you all there.” Aaron said. Kiki watched him walk away and she knew she was in trouble. She also knew that she would definitely have a piece or at least a taste of that fine ass man, tonight.
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The Moonlight Lounge 9:02 pm
Some of the cast and crew were already a bit tipsy by the time Aaron arrived. He was amused seeing them all let their guard down. He saw Kiki and their other costar, Vanessa Leon, sitting by themselves talking and laughing. Vanessa saw Aaron before Kiki did and smirked whole making eye contact with him.
“And looked what the cat dragged in. Hey handsome.” Vanessa flirted, making Aaron smile.
“Hey V, see you've had a few drinks already.” Aaron chuckled. 
“Boy I've only had like 3 of these weak ass cocktails.” Vanessa said. Judging by her hiccups, he could tell that they were getting to her. After damn near falling over she excused herself to the restroom.
Aaron took a look at Kiki and almost lost his cool when they made eye contact. He appreciated the way her dress accentuated her curves and breasts. He could just imagine sucking on them while she rode him. 
“There you go staring off into space again. What's on your mind, pretty eyes?” Kiki asked.
“Nothing. Just thinking about how much I enjoyed working with you this past summer.” Aaron spoke. Kiki’s eyebrow rose and she gave him a wide smile.
"Awww I really enjoyed working with you too. You wanna get out of here? I’m kind of over this and I’m ready to take this dress off.” Kiki said. Aaron gave her a devilish smile and helped her to her feet. Just as they were about to walk out of the door, they saw Vanessa coming from the bathroom.
“Leaving so soon yall?” She asked.
“Yeah and maybe you should be heading out soon too V?” Kiki said.
“Oh girl I already called my man to come take my ass home.  I don’t know why I thought I could hang. I am not in my 20s anymore. But yall get home safe.” Vanessa replied.
After saying their goodbyes, Aaron led Kiki to his car. He opened his passenger door and helped her secure her seatbelt before getting in himself. He let her put her address in his navigation system and they headed to her house. After a 20 minute drive filled with sexual tension and light conversation, they’d arrived at her beautiful, secluded Los Angeles home. Aaron parked and quickly got out to open her car door. Kiki thanked him and began walking towards her gate, punching in the code. After opening her front door, Kiki let out a sigh of relief and took off her heels. Aaron followed suit, taking off his own shoes. He watched as she sashayed to her kitchen to grab them something to drink. He was so entranced by her ass that he didn’t hear her ask what he wanted to drink. 
“Aaron?” Kiki called out confused. He snapped out of it at the sound of her voice and made his way into the kitchen. He looked in her fridge and saw she had a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon. He grabbed it and let her direct him to her glass cabinet and he poured them each a glass. They stood in a comfortable silence and just stared each other down. Kiki had some wild ass thoughts floating in her head that made her giggle. She took a sip and relished in the sweet taste of the cool wine. Aaron raised a brown, intrigued by her little outburst. He moved closer to her, stopping just short of her smaller stature.
“And what’s so funny Ms. Davis? He teased. He invaded her personal space, once again admiring her dress and how it clung to her gorgeous figure. He moved a piece of her hair out of her face with his finger then slowly trailed his finger down her arm. 
Kiki was stuck. All she could do was stare at him wordlessly. She got lost in his eyes and before she realized what she was doing, she’d kissed him. She pulled back quickly, embarrassed she’d let herself lose control like that.
“Shit I’m so sor-.” She couldn’t even finish her sentence as Aaron pulled her against him and kissed her back. Kiki gasped out of shock and Aaron used that opportunity to introduce his tongue to hers. Kiki was tonguing him down and he loved how sloppy it was. He tested the waters and slid his hand down to her ass, giving it a light squeeze. Kiki moaned into the kiss, spurring him on. He now had both hands on her ass and was rubbing and squeezing her to his heart's content.
“See this ass right here....it's gon get you in trouble.” Aaron spoke against her lips. Without warning he slapped both of her cheeks so hard, she just knew that he’d leave marks.
“Hmmm do it again.” Kiki purred. Aaron was happy to oblige. He gave her what she wanted and Kiki almost collapsed into his arms. She was in a state of euphoria. Aaron realized he’d accidentally unveiled one of her kinks. He would definitely be using it to his advantage. “So you like to be spanked? Hmmmm.” Aaron playfully taunted. He was in heaven. He’d finally got to see what Ms. Kiki Davis was about and he was more than ready to show her what the fuck he was about. He picked her up and sat her on her kitchen island, careful not to knock over their forgotten glasses of wine. Kiki’s was burning up on the inside. This man had her feral as hell and she couldn’t wait to rip his clothes off. Aaron was just as needy and wasted no time in pulling down the front of her dress.
“Mmmm, imma enjoy these.” He said as he latched onto her left nipple. He played with her right as he flicked his tongue against her warm flesh. Her moans were music to his ears and he loved knowing it was him that had her feeling this way.
“Yeessssss fuck babyyyyyy.” Kiki moaned. She’d never had an orgasm from nipple stimulation but there’s a first time for everything. Aaron switched sides and gave her right nipple the same treatment as the left. Once he’d had his feel, he pulled back and gave her a once over.
“You really are fucking beautiful. I’m glad I finally got you alone.” He said as he dragged his hands down to her ankles and brought them up onto the counter. He held one leg in his hand and admired her pretty lavender painted toes. She felt like he was staring into her soul as he picked up her foot and planted soft kisses on her ankle. Without warning, Kiki felt a warm, wet sensation and watch as Aaron’s tongue swirled around her big toe. He moaned and she almost came right then and there. She was enjoying the feeling of his mouth on her so much that she hadn’t noticed that he’d raised her dress up a bit and was slipping his pointer finger in her underwear.
“Oh my fucking god.” Kiki whined as Aaron’s finger circled her clit. His movements were slow and calculated as he continued to suck on her toe. The dueling sensations had Kiki feeling like she was floating on a cloud. He added his middle finger to the mix and she began grinding up against him.
“Fuck you’re so damn wet. I can hear that pussy talking to me. I bet she tastes even better than she feels.” He praised. He pulled his fingers from her underwear and put them in his mouth. He closed his eyes and savored her taste. He dipped his fingers into her entrance and collected some of her juices. He brought his fingers to her mouth and watched as she licked her own essence from her fingers. He kissed her once more and as they kissed, Kiki could taste herself on his tongue. Aaron took his spit and cum covered fingers and circled them around her nippled. He sucked her nipple back into his mouth and cleaned up his mess. He gently nudged her backwards so she could lay down on the counter. She spread her legs and felt a cool breeze on her soaked underwear. Aaron effortlessly lifted her up and slid off her underwear. He wasted no time diving into her pussy. He licked a long stripe up her center and began eating her out like a starved neanderthal.
Kiki grabbed his head and grinded against his lips, chasing her orgasm. He was breaking her down in the best way and she couldn’t get enough.
“Right there right there right there-OH FUUUUCK.” Kiki screamed. Aaron moved back and watched as she squirted. He leaned down and caught some of her juices, drinking from her as if she was his personal water fountain. He watched as she made a mess all over her kitchen, smiling smugly at his handiwork. He rubbed her thighs, helping her come down from her high. Kiki was shook. That was one of her most powerful orgasms ever and it was all because of her fine ass co-star. 
“You good Ms. Davis?” Aaron asked her, still smiling at her.
“Nigga wipe that smug ass smile off you face and help me down.” Kiki said, amused that he was so impressed with himself. After being placed on the floor, she walked to her hall closet, grabbing a big towel to clean up her mess off of her island. She knew she’d have to deep clean but tonight was not the night for that. While she cleaned up the floor, Aaron grabbed her from behind, and held her against his body.
“You know I’m not done with you right?” He whispered into her ear. She smiled and turned around in his arms. She gave him a quick kiss then pulled him towards her living room.
“Oh I know. Now go sit down so I can eat that dick up.” Kiki commanded. Aaron obeyed her and sat down on her sofa and watched as she crawled to him, stopping just short of his legs. He could just tell that she’d devour him and he was prepared to go all night with her.
He finally got his leading lady.
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wonubby · 5 months ago
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fell in luv - itoshi rin
CHAPTER 01: OTOYA GOT HIS ASS BEAT
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SYPNOSIS Rin Itoshi thought life was all about football—until Y/N L/N and their chaotic group of friends proved otherwise. Now, he’s stuck navigating late-night hangouts, dumb arguments, and way too much teasing—all while somehow being hopelessly in love. It’s a story of laughter, love, and Rin just trying (and failing) to keep his cool.
a/n: first part of the series!!! i hope you all enjoy and thank you so much to those who liked/reblogged the first post
written part after all the pics!
< prev masterlist next >
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the sound of laughter blended with the breeze as the group of teens lounged together, soaking in their thursday afternoon. rin’s gaze kept drifting to the girl across from him, drawn to her warm smile and sleepy eyes as she spoke. when her eyes met his, she gave him that same soft smile. caught in the act, rin’s face burned with embarrassment, and before he could think, he shot to his feet.
"i… i uh, i'm gonna head home. i need to get up early for training," rin stammered, his cheeks tinged with a faint pink as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
a small frown dented y/n's face at his sudden change in demeanour. with a sigh, she stood up, facing him with a playful pout. "come on, rinnie, you can't leave so soon," she whined, her voice laced with disappointment.
rin hesitated, his fingers still lingering at the nape of his neck as he avoided her gaze. “i really should go…” he mumbled, though his voice lacked conviction. the warmth in her eyes made it harder to leave, and the way she said his name sent an unfamiliar flutter through his chest.
y/n huffed, stepping closer. “just a little longer?” she pressed, tilting her head. “the night’s still young, and besides…” she tugged gently at his sleeve, a teasing smile playing on her lips. “you still owe me from when you left my house early last time.”
rin’s lips parted slightly, caught between the urge to stay and the instinct to retreat. he could feel the expectant stares of the others, waiting to see if he’d cave. after a beat of silence, he exhaled in defeat, dropping his hand from his neck.
“…fine. but just for a little while,” he muttered, refusing to meet her eyes.
y/n beamed, grabbing his wrist and pulling him back down beside her. “that’s the spirit! now, where were we?” she grinned, settling in close, her shoulder just barely brushing against his.
rin swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the space—or lack thereof—between them. training could wait just a little longer.
"ah, there he goes again, giving in so easily," otoya teased, leaning back on his hands with a smirk. "rin, you're getting soft."
"shut up," rin muttered, crossing his arms as he looked away, his ears burning.
yukimiya chuckled, adjusting his glasses. "you say that, but we all saw how fast you sat back down."
naomi nudged riya with her elbow, giggling. "he acts all serious, but y/n has him wrapped around her finger."
"obviously," riya agreed, grinning. "it's kind of cute, though."
rin groaned, rubbing his temples. "can we talk about something else?"
"alright, alright, leave the poor guy alone," yukimiya said with an amused chuckle, watching rin sink further into himself. "he’s already regretting staying."
"as he should," otoya grinned, leaning forward. "but, hey, since we're all here, might as well keep the fun going. someone tell a story or something."
"oh! i have one!" naomi piped up, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "but it's kind of embarrassing..."
"even better," riya laughed, nudging her. "spill."
naomi hesitated for a moment before groaning. "fine. so, last week, i was rushing to practice, right? and i tripped—like full-on face-planted—right in front of coach. but instead of helping me up, he just looked at me and went, 'get up, naomi. this is why we work on balance training.'"
the group burst into laughter, even rin couldn’t help the small chuckle that slipped past his lips.
"damn, no sympathy at all," otoya wheezed. "brutal."
"right?" naomi groaned, hiding her face in her hands. "it was so bad."
y/n giggled, leaning against rin’s shoulder slightly without even realizing it. "at least you can laugh about it now," she said, smiling at her friend.
rin stiffened at the sudden contact, his heart stuttering in his chest. he glanced down at y/n, but she was too busy laughing with the others to notice. his gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before he exhaled and looked away, his fingers curling slightly against his knee.
maybe staying a little longer wasn’t so bad after all.
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taglist: @levihanmyotp
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fellominaarcher · 5 days ago
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I WANNA RANT/VENT (probably will delete ts)
Sooooo I had to entertain a stupid fucking patient—another episode of weird, weird patient I have to deal with during my clinical. This patient came in and complained about his curved PP, it looked small because of it and it kinda hurts, he tried to jack it off but it stayed the same.
Unfortunately, I was available and the ER was busy, packed with patients. I was kinda clueless on how to deal with genital related situation bcs I'm training to be a surgeon, not an urologist.
Suddenly, this dude pulled off his pants in front of me (the curtains were drawn dw) and I was stunned tbh bcs in my times of doing clinical NOBODY has ever done that to me or in front of me! I couldn't control my reaction and gave him an immediate look to his little curved buddy down there and to himself, of course!
It was busy and noisy—I told him I'm not the right person to deal with his little situation and I'll leave to get the right doctor for this but he told me he won't be able to wait for a long time and before I decided to leave the crime scene, I told him: “If you can't wait and were about to leave, when you're home, it'd be the best for you to soak yourself in the warm water for 15 or 20.”
“Your blood vessel is probably engorged, that's why it happened.”
After saying that, I immediately left to find the available doc bcs I wasn't in the mood to deal with a stupid patient and wasn't in the mood to see a penis—be it curved, soft or hard.
It turns out that as soon as I left, he apparently went to the restroom/bathroom/toilet and tried doing what I told him, he washed his little buddy with hot/warm water in the restroom and stupid me, I actually forget to find an available doctor because I got carried away and hid somewhere to scroll on my phone (I probably didn't care that much about him)
After that, he came back and searched for me around the ER and unfortunately, he found me and he told me that my suggested method worked. His PP was no longer curved, hurt and it looked bigger.
Congrats, ig? I said to myself.
“Yepp. Okay.” that's how I replied to him.
This dude gave me a smile, his teeth showed and he told me, “you're the best doc, my hot doctor,”
“Can I see your ass?” he said stuff like that and I'm ngl that his intentions were foreseeable to me but stupid me I helped him regardless EVEN WHEN I KNEW IT'D TURNED OUT LIKE THAT!
So I gave him a look and my lips were tight bcs why the hell would I entertain him?
He also added that while he was in the restroom, he took a massive dump and asked me if I wanna see his poops and also took a pic of his little buddy. Guess what? He fished out his phone out of the pocket and showed me those devastating photos. I didn't speak a single word after that
Luckily, my friend called out my name and was asking for my help to draw another patient's blood. I still didn't speak a single word after seeing those emotionally hurtful photos. With my friend calling me, I immediately made my leave.
Thank you for reading this if you are.
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zankydraws · 10 months ago
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do you have an oc or persona of any kind?
also, do you have any of your own oc’s w/ lore and stuff?
only asking cus i really wanted to make fanart for you at some point and realised i couldn’t T-T
have a nice day!
I do have a sona but she needs a little redesign. I've been planning on drawing her but I'm not really in the mood for that now.. But idk, maybe I'll get motivated 😔
tbh, most of my OCs need redesigns or at least some new art (I haven't drawn one of my faves since like.. 2018). a lot of the stuff I have is very rusty lol
buuuut, I guess I could share one guy... my biggest fave. I've wanted to share art of him for a long while but for some reason I was never ready to do that lol, ngl I'd love to get fanart of him
(pics and some details about him under read more) ⬇️
this is Dave and he is very stupid 💖 if you're interested in making art of him, here's what he looks like
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(shitty ass meme edit lmao)
His actual name is Dawid Szulecki 🇵🇱
He's some sort of a faceless ghost and wears a mask at all times. He can create clones of himself which are emotion based and each has a different mask (there are 7 different masks but I plan on adding one more in the future and maybe improving a few of them lol so you're only gonna see two of them for now). His favorite activities are playing baseball with his clones, slapping his clones on their stupid bald heads and touching nice tiddies. He also enjoys being a nuisance to his friends and pulling pranks on them (his buddies are faceless ghosts too). Generally he's a shitlord
his skin is pitch black and feels cold and slightly velvetty to the touch
he's a pretty big boi, 198cm tall
he loves dinosaurs and has a little collection of dino figurines and also owns dinosaur themed hoodies and onesies (which is a lil fact that I keep forgetting about lol)
+ some older stuff I made 2-3 years ago:
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he wears dumb shirts like these unironically
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he's my idiot. my dumbass 💜
I need to make more art of him and his friends fr
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batsu4eva · 1 day ago
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SESSION DOODLE TIME! We almost killed someone until we didn’t lol
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Session notes below as alwayssss PLUS A NEW COTERIE MASCOT
So, to start off the session we ended up talking about lapupus and lafufus for 2 hours bc Tee ended up playing on a dacha machine for a WHILE lollll. Carmen was handed two and was advised to give one to Cassidy later :3 And she got a kind of naked one and one that was DRIPPED OUT so she's gonna give the gucci one to Cassidy because she's the Toreador of courseeeeeeee :3
As for the naked one, she designed a BUNCH of tattoos and other features on him (including boobies and a weenis bc she has something of an immature sense of humor lol) I'll show pics below before I continue!
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Front: Drawn tuft of hair, nose ring, teardrop tattoo, ear piercings, cross on neck, stitches tattoo, heart on chest that reads "MOM", flower, painted nails, kitty, satanic circle, "I <3 U" on the knuckles, boobies, weenis, a shark, a pinup, and a double rainbow
Back: Eye on the back of the head, piercings and stitches again, angel wings, sword that reads "TAKE NO SHIT" on the blade, yakuza tattoo sleeve, stamp on the butt that reads "KISS MY ASS" with a heart underneath, and a barely readable "MISTAKES INTO MIRACLES" with a pregnant Greg Heffley and Sonic the Hedgehog
Okay, so onto our plan- we're deciding what to do for the night. We're thinking of contacting other Anarchs so that we can have more eyes on the streets to get even more evidence for our Keeper killer. We get a bunch of options luckily, and obvs we'll have to do boons in exchange but that's how ya play the game ofc.
But we also have a second plan to break into ol' Danny's house since he's the main murder suspect. However, we don't know where he lives, sooooo... We decided to break into his sire's (Liliana's) place first! And as a reminder. She is THE TOREADOR PRIMOGEN. The Ventrue Primogen (and Vanya's partner now, name is Pietro) says he'll help us by distracting her while we sneak in... but she is almost definitely going to flirt with him and make him uncomfortable so we have to hurry.
Literally only Carmen and Rorie end up taking the elevator up, as you may have seen in the post I reblogged haha. Tee ends up literally turning into snake and climbing through the vents and Vanya soaring leaps up the stairs. FOURTY FLOORS on this building btw lmaoooo.
Okay so we get there. Pietro is laughing uncomfortably laughing while Liliana comes onto him. She's distracted. We snoop.
And see we WERE just looking for evidence that Danny murdered the keeper, where his address is etc. But like. NOT ONLY do we find out that she almost definitely covered his ass after he murdered people but SHE’S FUCKING OBSESSED WITH SAID PLAYER’S BOYFRIEND.
Btw when I say OBSESSED she lives in the apartment directly across from him, her password is his name, she has a million fucking photos of him in her bedroom, her diary is literally SO MUCH about him, HOLY SHIT. Girl stand up you are failing the Bechdel test
So at this point we’re like “Oh FUCK this lady she’s got to go” right
So while we’re almost on our way out we’re texting Pietro who atp has her on the balcony and the ENTIRE GROUP is like “PUSH HER!!!!!!! KILL HER ASS IT’LL LOOK LIKE AN ACCIDENT!!!!!!!!”
ST: You don’t know if it’s gonna look suspicious!!! Us: People can’t just… fall? On accident? :3
And the thing is. He REALLY wanted to. But he is Ventrue. So that goddamn fucking HIERARCHY BANE said no so not this time 😔 a shame!!!!
So we leave anyways since we got what we needed, and... Vanya now has four dots in the enemy flaw from her bc she fucked her bf on his balcony. Just to send a message that HE CHOSE HER!!!!! HE DOESN'T WANT LILIANA'S JEALOUS ASS!!!!!! :) she doesn’t even fucking know her ass is LUCKY this is the least bad thing we could’ve done that night
Like BITCH you almost flew 40 floors to meet concrete!!!!!!
That’s all tho, we still got a win bc we got more evidence and now we’re going to bully Daniel for info >:3 and now Carmen has four dots in Obfuscate and fucking VANISH. That's all for now!!! Hope you all enjoyed!!! this was a very enjoyable session for me everyone say thank u Akira :33333
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ya-killin-me-smalls · 19 days ago
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OH YEAH AND I READ YOUR DAVE AND BERT HCS hroiygrhrhrh wowooaowowooww u make so much lore for them its so impressive and i love it so much aaaaahahhhhh do you have any ocs??? INCLUDING PUPPY... i wanna know more sbout them actually i need to tear your brain open snd suvk out your humunculous juices🐱
I won't lie Bert is my favorite. someday I'm gonna turn that lore dump into an actual fic but not anytime soon unfortunately
I've got. four ocs I think unless you wanna include bad guys I've made up for plots. in that case it's six but the two bad guys are getting fed into a woodchipper. the others are Puppy who I've yapped about and drawn extensively
my ugly:
lore: https://www.tumblr.com/ya-killin-me-smalls/783213595620212736/more-of-that-ugly-guy-i-keep-talking-about?source=share
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(credit to @killing-machine for this one)
then there's my oldest oc Presley (pronounced like wesley not leslie) whose backstory is being reworked fully, but long story short he's a small faction leader and one of Doc's assets although he doesn't work for him directly. he isn't a soldat or clone at all but he did use one of their eyepieces he scrounged to replace a missing eye. also he's british for cool and sexy reasons but unfortunately he's also kinda pathetic. I call him Pres
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(first pic was a comm by skeptiql, I genuinely have no clue anymore who gifted me the second one, third is mine but OLD SO OLD)
Arthelais is my only actual soldat oc and she's still very much loyal to the Agency. same batch as Puppy, vaguely remembers him and frankly wants to kick his ass for abandoning his purpose. haven't drawn her yet because artblock has been a bitch for a while now but I'm gonna get around to it eventually
and then there's Atlas who's a regular ass agent that I haven't done too much with. drew him once a few years ago and he gets mentioned in To Be Redeemed but that's about it
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I supposed Tarrare could count as an oc as well but. eh
more ugly guy:
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imaginedreamwrite · 4 months ago
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Text pic 1 screams alpha mob boss price and rivals daughter l
Bourbon and whiskey rolled from the neck of the bottle down the deep amber coloured glass. The beads of fine alcohol had almost drawn his eyes away from the phone in his hand, almost.
Instead of giving in to the desire to wipe the beads of alcohol away, John had lifted his cigar to his lips and puckered—inhaling the favoured combination of poison. It was a well balanced flavour between the alcohol and the cigar, and one that was so suitable to this occasion.
I will not even hesitate to strangle you on Monday the threat that blistered itself through messages flashing on his phone was tantalizing at best, the omega on the other side was stewing. You were promising violence and vengeance for some act that you thought crossed the line—and you’d made it known.
Can you even reach my neck John’s lips twitched with the threat of an amused smile, the corners of his lips rising with the induction of your ire. You were pissed, royally pissed off, that John had thrown your fine ass on a plane and shipped you off.
He has good reasons for it, he was a miserable bastard who kept dangerous company, and his little omega was stressed. John couldn’t have his darling hanging around with these kinds of men while stressed—you needed a vacation. And John didn’t need to entertain the idea of some alpha who didn’t know any better sniffing around John’s mate.
I’ll kill you, you were pissed. You were pissed off and you didn’t spare his feelings about it. You were going to let him know damn well that you weren’t happy with his decision to send you off. But John was the boss, he was the alpha in charge and despite what you thought was best, John made the final decision.
Having his omega pacing back and forth while John was doing business, having his gorgeous young little mate flaunting herself around stirred his envy—John knew you were his, he knew that he’d all but claimed you, but that didn’t mean he appreciated other alpha’s looking at his girl.
I’ll be waiting on Monday, John had set his phone down and took another deep inhale of that cigar, enjoying the taste as it filled his mouth, and then he stood. He moved toward the target waiting for him, bloodied and bound to a chair. Once John stepped in front of the man, he stopped low and grabbed the front of his neck to bring him to attention.
Maybe if he dealt with this now, John could surprise you on your vacation—and maybe that attitude could be handled sooner rather than later.
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top10bigchungus · 4 months ago
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found some older (2-4 years old) art that for once i dont feel like throwing up when seeing. havent drawn in a while and ive defo kinda forgotton how 2 draw like i tried doing some simple sketches but all of them were uhm shit.
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starting off with some honkai (impact) drawings (sorry for being a gachaslop fan, childhood and autism were not kind to me) idk what order theyre showing up so i maybe will add like a description or whatevs if u wanna know like some thought processes type shit
BRO there was one cute but wonky sakura that DIDNT SEND (wifi so bad here i couldnt upload from mobile i had to email these to myself and then download to upload cuz idfk what happened) but oh well sorry my goat sakura
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anyways we move onto the masa works design shit (god was not kind), im posting these more seperate because i was actually somewhat creative that summer a few years ago. heres uguisu baita (slapper of a song), i really liked the concept of being able to pick up the drawing to move it around kinda in the style of the pv so i went through actual effort for this ( and the next peice). i dyed the back piece of paper using tea bags (im a tea drinker britain has influenced me), and then drew the drawings on a paper which i then cut out to their sillhoette. even if its not much and the drawings are kinda ass i LOVE the concept i really did have joy seeing these so fuck yeah i defo would do shit like this again
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and here mentalism maria, done in the same style as above. i once again REALLY REALLY REALLY love this one like these were so fun to make, didnt finish the concept unfortunately (as seen in pic 2) but putting all the chains n shit on the paper was super fun. process was the same but i tried to draw the background (its dogshit), idk what the random pieces of paper wouldve been for but theyre there ig
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last of the masa shit, any comments on individual drawings r made on them, aside from the ban nen one. this was going to be the third fanwork in the style of the prev 2 but with the shards seen in the image of the pv standing out (now that i think about it the random extra papers on mentalism maria were probably for that) but i never finished it past the drawing. really like the face of it though
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and finally, miscallenous. i think the first one was enstars i drew for my friend but i lowkey dunno thats my guess, second im guessing was an oc/persona kinda deal (i dont look like that i look worse) and im fr not sure what was going on i cannot tell you tf its actually meant to be
n e ways you could probably find a lot of my older shit floating around since i was severely terminally online a few years ago (i wouldnt be surprised if the 5 year anni of me quitting being terminally online spontaneously is this year but i actually erased a lot of that shit from my mind) it was not a good time for me though and ive grown a lot since those times so please never really bring that shit up please and thank you and good bye i know all of it looks ass but what can i say im just an ass artist
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possumsinpeoplesuits · 8 months ago
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Holy shit I was working on this since late October, and I'm the most proud I've ever been of a picture I've drawn?
Details and graffiti transcriptions below the cut! 'Cause I worked on that shit for like three entire days, and I'll be damned if I don't show off some environmental storytelling word crimes.
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So, first we have a couple closer looks of Sasha! Their outfit was pretty fun. I haven't done modern outfits in... probably ever, and it was nice having a lot more references to work off of.
Their sefirot necklace was fun to draw because I have one almost exactly like it. The flannel was the first time trying to do plaid by hand with a new little technique (Base colors+Multiply layer for dark stripes+Overlay layer for light stripes) but it went way faster than the god damn quilt?
All in all, my favorite detail was doing cosmetics, because I got to do little chips missing in the nail polish, and that's probably the first time I've drawn eyeshadow and willingly shown the result! : D
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Next we have the little rat family in the background, with the wall-dwelling Rat King peeking through the wall, which is where I did dipped into tracing a couple photos instead of just looking at references.
Generally my process has been doing anatomy lines over a reference, then working off of those for about... three to four layers for body->clothes->hair->Full sketch, then another with whatever brush I wanna do the lineart with (usually a watercolor detail brush from one of two sets on Krita), but I'll note where I skipped that process and committed some art crimes.
The two background rats (Pestis and Mortar) are from a pair of stock photos from Getty, while the one in the foreground (Yersinia) is a mix of a pic that pops up in meme dumps from time to time of a smoking rat and a few bits that weren't in the original image. (Jewelry, the legs that were covered by an ash tray in the original pics, the "Buns and Roses" lighter she clearly stole from Sasha.)
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Time for some graffiti transcriptions! Most of the variation in the graffiti came from switching the size of my brush and trying to mix up my handwriting, but there's a few segments where I use a font, then outlined the font with a 2px across brush to make it fit more into the art. Mostly, this was through screenshotting google docs, but some of the fancier fonts are from cooltext.com.
Top:
This is really high
No it's not?
Top Right:
A drawing of a clown that clearly used to be titties
"What's wrong with Bipo's eyes?" (Referring to the tape over the nipples)
"Their titties, bro"
"What about them?"
Top Left going down:
"Hail Satin" written next to a six pointed star
"Rong star, dumass"
A sticker reading "Apologize to your English teacher"
"Yeah, get a brian, morans!"
"You're just as bad as the other two!"
<The URL for the Wikipedia page on sarcasm>
Bottom Left:
Gazebos ate my ass
Bottom center:
"My sister turned into a bird but no one believes me."
"That's rough, buddy."
Bottom right:
A sticker of a possum with "Live Weird" written on it.
A sticker of a more poorly drawn character wrapped in blankets with "Seep eeps" written on it.
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...So I made up a fake BDSM club for this one and named the majority of the bands dirty jokes, but I will die on the hill that there should be an all-trans metal band called "The Book of Dead Names."
CHOKE POINT
PRESENTS
LIVE MUSIC
THIS SUNDAY
CUNT MUNCHIES
THE BOOK OF DEAD NAMES
SOME GUY NAMED STEVE
FIST FUCK DUMP TRUCK
WOLFGANGBANG
THE PENIS MIGHTIER
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A sticker with a set of vampire fangs that says "Got Blood?"
"Parasitic fucks"
"U got beef w/ Count Chocula?"
"Bro, vamps suck."
"Duh"
"So does your mum.
A sticker of a cross made out of a bunch of interlocking parts with some mirrored Hebrew in the middle. (I'm really proud of making this shape up on the spot. I had an idea for a religious monster hunter group named after the Watchers from Enoch, but I've got no idea if this story will ever happen.)
"Your Hebrew is backwards, you twatwaffle"
A sticker reading "Deus Vult"
"I fucking love Powerwolf"
"VULT DEUS NUTS, GOTTEM!
A cut off poster telling people to vote for, I presume, their favorite chainsmoking rat, clearly.
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A sticker of the Autism Creature
"Rizz 'em w' the Tism" with the last S being the one everyone draws in school, but also backwards.
"It's like if Kirby was a centaur"
"I will never unsee that."
"It looks nothing like my vaccuum"
A paper with "Missing Printer" and a cut off phone number written in sharpie.
A meme of a bear in a suit (Partially a trace of the actual meme template) with "You have seasonal affective disorder because you need Vitamin D. I have seasonal affective disorder because one of my ancestors fucked a bear. We are not the same"
"Is that how it happens?"
"Oh, sure, this dude's ancestor fucks a bear, he gets a meme, BUT WHEN I-"
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"Going insane by yourself, handsome?"
Three pieces of paper with "Yes" "Yup" and "Yass" written on them, two stuck on with tape, while the third is stuck to a wad of chewing gum.
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"You guys seriously pay to print out memes just to vandalize shit?"
"No, I stole the printer, too."
"YOU"
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"Paulie never died"
A sticker of the Mothman
"TAX FRAUD"
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A large printout with a dramatic portrait of Mitch McConnell with "ARE YA BREEDING YET?" written below it. Several tear off strips are missing, but the remainder all say different variations of "Yes"
A cut off sticker of a smiley face
A sticker of a machete
"BURGLE TURTS"
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A sticker of a crying laughing emoji.
A sticker of a pot leaf
A sticker with a picture of bigfoot with pasties on her boobs walking up to a stripper pole with "I want to believe" written in the X-Files font
"Whoever gave Bigfoot tits will never enter the Kingdom of God"
Three notes pointing to the previous message with "Noticed the tits first" "Weirdo" and "Your preoccupation with cryptid mammaries betrays your discomfort with your own sexuality. Consider meditation, therapy, or possibly fucking yourself!"
"Weirdo" pointing to the previous paragraph before being crossed out and replaced with "BASED"
"K, but y tho?"
"No one insults the Bigfoot big naturals on my watch"
(She has them in the Patterson-Gimli footage, too)
"BIGFOOT BIG NATURALS" "NOW LORE ACCURATE"
A swastika being covered up by a peace sign
"Degenerates should be purged" "AMEN" "U FIRST."
A drawing of a penis that's been turned into a weasel in a familiar pose with "Dick weasel" and "Had to do it to 'em" written next to it
A sticker of a stalk of corn labeled "CORN"
"See? Iowa is with us!"
And, finally, "Does reading this hurt your back, too?" which was the last thing I added because I literally spent two days just doing graffiti for this shit.
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So, the map behind Sasha is made up on the spot, with some inspiration from a map of the Seattle Bay. Kinda proud of just how dirty this fucking place is, but the final, and greatest achievment in making this picture look grimy...
THE RUST
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I didn't exactly nail the perspective on some of these (The sketchy layer for the floor grating was done once, then dragged into place and warped with the perspective... and then completely fucked that up) but god DAMN do I love texturing the fuck out of things!
There's like six Multiply layers scattered about because it turned out it's a phenomenal way to make the shading of multiple textures make sense without losing that texture, and I feel so god damn powerful!
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Oh, right, the posters.
Not much to say about them. The righthand one was 95% traced from a mafia stock photo, while the hands in the left came from another stock photo.
Honestly, I drew the frames, then had no idea what to put in them. There was briefly gonna be a pic referencing a cosplay photo I have of myself, but eh...
The rats and the guy in the wall were originally referencing a Vampire the Masquerade character I had named Pretty Paulie, who was a mafioso turned nosferatu who dubbed his crew the Rat Pack. I figured if there was some kind of dramatic, Scarface-esque movie about him, he'd definitely find a way to keep the poster nearby, and I wanted to slap in one of those "Give blood!" posters from the Red Cross except... not from the red cross.
I don't really feel like I put in much effort into these (compared to the Graffiti-a-thon with several subplots), but hey... they covered the tile, which before shading was boring and very flat, so they did their job.
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I'll leave you with some zoomed in textures, because I do feel proud about those! I make them via a combo of oil paint and watercolor brushes, usually with a whole lot of different coats of varying opacity until it looks like the thing it's supposed to be. :)
I've only just started drawing again this year (I've been editing a looooot longer) so there's a lot of spaces where I have hiccups, but I'm figuring out the areas I do well in.
...Also sweet Jesus this started as me trying to figure out what a character looked like. It says 3 full days worth of editing was done in Krita on this file, and I don't think it's counting the idle time.
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zonerz · 5 months ago
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for the ask game - first oc ever? 👀
OOOOO YES !!! Elle Fontaine was my first oc ever! Tho she used to go by Lily Smith and was 10 year old me's ninjago oc in 2011 😭🫶💖
She has come a LONG way since 2011 (happy 14th bday to her btw thats CRAZY) and was actually the reason I started getting more into drawing—little me wanted to do her proud!! I still have most of the stuff I made back then, both traditional progress and the old classic pics made with MSPaint, deviantart anime bases, and a dream LMAO
While I dip in and out of bouts with keeping up with Ninjago I still use her pretty actively! I've pulled her along through most fandoms I've been in in some form! She's kinda my ol' reliable if I need a pc and don't have any strong ideas and I'm glad for that! It's fun to consider how she'd fare in different settings and such!
it's a crime that I haven't drawn her recently, but I DO have some pics of her sim and the version of her I used when playing FO4 recently LMAO
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(Don't mind the ass quality of FO4 i was fighting for my life 😭😭)
One thing that's stayed pretty consistent with her character for years however is that she's always been very independent, a little stoic, and a mechanic/handyman type whose main modality are rollerskates and a motorbike! (This is a common trait she shares with two other of my top ocs LMFAO can u tell im a STEM major at heart 😭) Even as a Ninjago oc, despite being an elemental (Wind since 2011 shoutout to Morro bc little me felt so scammed seeing bro show up LMFAO) she always remained a more fringe elemental who owned her own garage and made due through odd jobs :]
I still love her very dearly and she will likely continue popping up all over my projects and gameplay if I can so help it <3
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