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muzzlemouths · 2 years

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Dead Mall Dare [The Golden Years]

The boys get each other made up for the day's events! (With some good ol' fashioned bickering and bonding on the side, of course)

Sun and Moon adjacent // Wordcount: 1200

“Hold still.”

“I’m trying!”

“Well try harder,” Moon tuts, “you’re going to mess me up.” He wields the eyeshadow palette in one hand and a small biba brush in the other, dutifully painting the space over Sun’s eye - a deep, shimmering blue that mirrors the other side.

Smiling, he taps away the excess and sits back to admire his work.

“Let me see let me see!”

“We aren’t done–” He gently bats Sun’s hand away before it can reach the mirror, “–you can see when it’s all finished.”

“But I wanna see now!”

“Hush,” Moon tsks through a persistent smile, “You’re so impatient. Lay down again and let me get back to work.” He reaches for the eyeliner, next, waiting patiently for Sun to do as told before uncapping the bottle. “I’m going to do the liner, now, so you need to hold still. I mean it.”

“I will, I will.”

The brush is wetted, then drawn from its bottle. Moon readjusts his balance to his knees again and leans forward to hover an inch above the other. He smiles and, fondly so, Sun smiles back.

He adjusts their head by a gentle grip on the chin, angling Sun to get a better look at his face beneath the lights, then holds him there as the brush paints smooth lines on either side of his eye.

“You’re really good at this,” Coos Sun, “you should do the customer’s makeup sometime.”

“No talking,” Moon tightens his grip with a whisper, pointedly sharpening the angle with which he holds the other’s face, “don’t distract me or you’ll end up looking like you got dumped on prom night.”

Sun barely stifles a giggle - especially when he sees the beginnings of a violet hue cross Moon’s cheeks, “I mean it, though–”

“Quiet, please.” He sets the bottle to the side in favor of slapping a finger over Sun’s lips, an action that only proves to further rile the giggle in their throat. But he’s got a soft spot for Sun - and that dopey grin on his face, too - so it’s only a matter of seconds before he, too, is drawing the brush a safe distance away, snickering. “You’re a sap.” He says with a roll of his eyes, “Now seriously, shut up before we run out of time.”

“The mall doesn’t open for another hour,” he begins to sit up again, “we have plenty of time. Besides, there’s still your makeup to do after this.”

Moon presses a hand soundly against the other’s chest, forcing him back down against the couch again, and Sun doesn’t fight it beyond a quiet ‘oof’. He keeps the hand there to finish lining the other eye. “At this rate I’ll just do my own makeup,” he says - then he laughs, catching the way Sun pouts beneath him, “What? With how you’re squirming, I’m afraid you’ll poke my eye out with the brush.”

“I’d never!” Sun insists with a scoff, feigning offence, “I’ll have you know I’m a professional when it comes to this stuff. I’ll make you look like you belong on the red carpet, or your money back, guaranteed!”

“A pro, huh?”

“Mhm!”

Moon caps the eyeliner and replaces it on the table, taking a small package beside that and opening it with a hushed click, “Those are some big words coming from the guy who caused the Great Blush Disaster–”

“Oh, one time!” Sun throws his arms into the air, “I drop some Maybelline into the fountain once and nobody ever lets me forget about it.”

“Sun,” A laugh bursts from his throat, “you turned the whole fountain pink, it’s a little hard to forget.”

Crossing his arms, he fits Moon with an eyeroll and a narrow-eyed stare, sticking his tongue out between teeth. This only has Moon laughing harder.

“Put that thing away!” He gawks through fits of giggles, “Come on, if you want to do my makeup before the store opens you have to behave, or I’ll never finish.”

“Fine, fine,” Sun resigns his attitude, the returning smile stretching from ray-to-ray, “but if you bring up the blush disaster even one more time, so help me–”

“Zip it,” he taps Sun on the forehead, quieting him up with little more than a snicker. Satisfied, he goes back to the task at hand and retrieves a pair of luscious eyelashes from their box. Once the seal is removed his hand returns to Sun’s lower ray, keeping him still, and the two lashes are carefully smoothed into place.

“Now?” Sun asks impatiently.

“Almost,” he answers, reaching, now, for the mascara, “honestly, how do you get anything done without losing your head about it? Have some self control.”

“I’m just excited!” He’s careful not to stir too much as Moon closes the distance between them, “I think you’re the weird one for being able to sit so still. Who even does that? I’ll tell you - a mannequin! A mannequin does that!”

“Watch it,” Warns Moon, “this is the last step, if you must know, but if you rush me now I am not fixing whatever becomes of your face,” he clicks his tongue, “Look up for me.”

Another scoff, but he does well to silence himself after this and looks up as asked. Their ceiling is a rather boring scene to focus on, but he forces himself to hold out even after the mascara is capped and set to the side. It isn’t until Moon clears his throat that he moves, his expression asking the question on his lips.

Moon is ready for it and already has a hand-mirror prepared. “Go on,” he sighs, handing the item over with a smile, “I’m all finished.”

He can’t bring the mirror into place fast enough, and when he does it’s with a dramatic gasp, “Oh, wow!” He turns his face this way and that to properly admire every angle, then pauses, lowering at the chin to better see the eyeshadow specifically. He lowers the mirror. “You used colors from your own palette…?”

“I thought you’d look good in deep blue,” Moon answers with a shrug, “I know it goes against the rules, but I’m already in deep with Management after yesterday’s stunt, so I figure one more streak of defiance won’t make a difference.”

Sun nods, slow at first, then quick with delight, a small and innocent tear escaping his eye.

“Whoa, whoa, hey,” Moon grabs for a tissue, “you’re going to ruin all my hard work if you do that–”

But Sun doesn’t let him get any farther, eagerly wrapping his arms around Moon and bringing him in chest-to-chest with a squeal, “It’s perfect, Moon, just perfect,” he sniffles. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

A groan escapes him - mostly in tease - but he doesn’t deny the smile that appears at Sun’s words. “I’m glad you like it,” he says, “even if you did whine the whole time.” He pokes a finger at the center of Sun’s face, then, and smirks down at him. “Maybe I’ll let you use my cologne tomorrow - if you promise to have some patience.”

“You mean it?”

“Mhm,” Moon promises, “Now let me go, you big sap. It’s my turn to feel pretty.”

#DMD: Golden Years #drabbles #a bit on the shorter side! but I fought my writer's block tooth and nail to get this out so who cares #you can thank Ghost (artsyfartsybro) for this btw #their lovely art and constant hyping of this story was the push I needed to write #despite the fact that my head feels like pudding #nothing much happens in this drabble lore wise #just some fun times to be had when the times were still fun #<3

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omarandjohnny · 7 months

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SHIPPY SHIP SHIP!

Tagged by @negrowhat <333333333333333333333333333333

1. What ship were you completely obsessed with when you were a teenager, but now you don't care anymore?

I didn't really have a fixed ship to hang my hat on in those days (aka the before the internet tiemz), but Buffy and Pike (movie BTVS) were the main couple I fixated on back then (still was figuring out why movie Lestat and Louis made me feel funny in my tummy at that time, so Buffy and Pike were the easier option LOL)

2. Which ship would you consider your first one?

Roz and Dan from Night Court; I was 7 and I wanted them married and arguing until the end of time <3

3. Your first fanfic belonged to which couple?

(hops in the wayback machine) Pretty sure I was writing for Greg/Nick (CSI) just a bit before Ennis/Jack (Brokeback). Still so very thankful that those four introduced me to friends I'd still have in my life 20 years later!

4. Do you remember the first couple you saw a fanart over?

I very clearly remember the Spangel fanvids that took more than day to download from our AOL dialup, yes XD

5. Did you ever get into ship discourse?

Attempting to nail jello to a tree would be a far more productive use of my time.

6. Did you used to have any no-otp or have it currently?

Can't say anything comes to mind, really.

7. Who were the couple in the last fanfic you read?

Had to go through my AO3 history, last time I had a clear enough head to attempt to read anything was early autumn last year (oof) and it was a modern AU of Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang that I don't think I finished because I really can't recall any of it. Ah, well.

8. Currently, do you have any OTPs?

Since I can't engage in fic it's hard for me to keep hold of the newer ships, so my brain tends to fall back on old reliables- Loustat/Loumand being at the top at this very moment because the fandom's waking up again for season 2 in May.

9. Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting together?

Another one that I can't think of anything.

10. Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they are kind of interesting?

Not Really, if I hated them then I'm sure I still hate them now. (keeping your answer here, Eboni, because same)

11. Do you have any ship that, in the past, was considered normal but now you would be cancelled over?

I'd be cancelled over any ship at any time for anything, such is the nature of this goofball puritanical mindset that has taken over fandom socmed. (I know the problem reaches so much further than that, but I'm not clearheaded enough to write a dissertation LOL)

12. What was your favorite crack ship?

Can't say I've ever had one.

13. Who is the couple you read more fanfics of?

20+ years ago I was slowly killing copious amounts of trees and our at-home printer with Spangel fics that I didn't want to lose (have since lost all of the printouts, and the fics are still online in their respective webrings, yikes) So yeah, Spangel would probably still win. Ennis/Jack, and Wangxian would round out the top three, I'm sure.

14. What most of your ships usually have in common?

Bastard-coated bastards, pastel/goth, grumpy/sunshine.

15. What do you absolutely hate in a ship?

Drawing a blank here. Though, I will have a harder time engaging if the source material is mainly written in 1st person POV, which is why I'd be considered a fake Vampire Chronicles fan XD (forever thankful for my friends that actually read the books and school me on what I don't know)

#memetiemz

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whentherewerebicycles · 7 months

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oof guys some days I feel very competent at my job and some days I feel a little in over my head. today it’s definitely the latter… I think it was just a lot of being in meetings with high-ranking admins who have been here for 10+ years and thus have LOTS of knowledge of context & lots of strong opinions about these big institution-wide issues. I don’t think I ever embarrass myself in these types of meetings (mostly because I try not to talk too much and instead focus on asking questions… maybe that’s embarrassing in its own way but feels better than accidentally saying something stupid/ignorant). but they always make me feel very conscious of how new I am both to the institution and to this type of role!! however I am trying to remind myself that these people didn’t start out knowing everything about our university system or about how to think at this level… they have accumulated that understanding over many years of being involved in lots of different initiatives at different levels. I can learn these skills and the fact that I don’t have them quite yet doesn’t mean I’m ill-suited to the job or doomed to be less effective than my longer-tenured coworkers. but it does means I need to do some thinking about what those skills are and how to build them over time.

(also a lot of these meetings were about using data to inform institutional recommendations and I feel VERY insecure about my ability to draw conclusions from quantitative data. I don’t have the training and I’m not totally sure how to get it at this stage. then I start getting in my own head about being stupid with numbers, which makes it harder to see the ways that I could still contribute usefully to these discussions even if I can’t be much help with number-crunching. I could also think about how to develop these skills but honestly I just find it all SO BORING it’s hard to motivate myself to even want to pay attention. not something you are really allowed to feel at this level though!!)

I think the other problem is that I’m feeling a little bit checked out because of the pregnancy. it’s partly just that I feel pretty tired and physically worn out all the time… so it’s often easier to focus on the concrete small tasks on my plate than to do the big picture conceptual thinking I was doing at the start of this position. it’s also partly that I’m three months away from being out for six months, which makes me feel less motivated to tackle big stuff… it’s easier to wrap up loose ends than to launch new projects that will have to be put on the shelf for a long time. and then idk I feel like I’m allocating a huge chunk of my intellectual and emotional resources to preparing for parenthood, I guess? like the background hum in my brain these days is all about trying to get ready for this huge self-shattering life transition. not that you can ever be ready but I feel like so much of my energy is focused on my personal life right now when in the past it’s been much more skewed towards work. that seems normal under the circumstances! but it’s hard to figure out how to rebalance, or if I even need to rebalance at this point. like is it ok to be consumed by impending parenthood and to not feel quite as invested in or interested in my career for a stretch?? is that ok or do I need to work more actively to correct it?

#let us also not forget: off my meds 🫠 and still feeling it

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godbirdart · 2 years

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first off, i just want to say that i love your art, you are a huge inspiration to me and i love how expressive your characters are! would you have any tips for someone trying to grow a following from their art? specifically within the furry community ideally. im just not sure where to start

i hope youre having a great day!

thank you so much!!

okay i gotta preface this with: i have been doing commissions for over a decade. everything i say here i've been doing since roughly 2014, but my career as an artist didn't really Take Off and become reliable until 2019. success isn't immediate. some artists will grow faster or slower than others, not every tactic is going to apply / work for every artist; and that's okay. just keep pushing yourself and adapting and figuring out what works for You!

i’m putting this under a readmore as it got a bit long. every time someone asks me for advice on professional Anything i always write up a five page essay despite trying to bulletpoint it oof

post on multiple platforms and keep them all updated. i’m putting this one in bold because it is possibly the Most Important thing. we’re all watching twitter sinking over there, and many of my mutuals there were floundering because they hadn’t established themselves on any other social media site. i strongly recommend three or four socials minimum. my main four sites are tumblr, deviantart, twitter and toyhouse. furaffinity is also good. inkblot and artfol are new and i use them frequently as well. if you don’t like posting manually to every site each and every time you post art, Postybirb exists and is what i use to crosspost all my art to most of my socials at once.

avoid venting a lot on main. we all have frustrating days where our art isn’t getting the recognition we hoped, or we’re feeling petty about a controversial topic or the latest drama. it happens! it’s okay! however, many people just don’t like seeing dozens of negative posts on their feed. most people will sympathize, but if your negative vents are constantly clogging their dashboard they’re not gonna stick around.

shamelessly self promote yourself. reblog your own art. retweet it again. repost it. mention your other socials. we live in a world of timezones! when you post art, only a fraction of your audience is going to see it. i recommend reblogging / retweeting one to four individual pieces periodically over the course of a day and change it up each day. you can also repost your own work into photosets and title it “recent commissions” or the something like that.

don’t hide your linktrees and carrds. seriously! the amount of times on twitter i went to try and follow someone on another platform only to find they had no carrd or linktree link,, it is infuriating. put your socials link in your bio or pinned or SOMEWHERE readily at the top of your profile that’s easy to spot.

if you’re offering commissions, make a telegram channel or discord server for your announcements / openings.

post regularly. this one is a lot harder for artists that don’t make a lot of content, but posting even a status update once or twice a day can go a long way - especially if you’re on twitter with that platform’s hideous algorithm. alternatively as i said earlier, just retweet/reblog your work a few times a day and you should be good.

art trends are cool and fun and an easy way to get your work seen by others. see a “draw your sona in this outfit” meme? go, have fun with it. this one’s a bit tricky as timing is everything when it comes to ~trending~ content, so try and draw quick. that said, it’s never outdated to drawover reaction memes with your fursona.

try not to clog your socials with memes and shitposty images. this one is directed at twitter specifically. with twitter moments now gone, your media tab is the last way for people to hope to find your work organically on your profile without having to use the twitter search. they can’t get invested in your work if they can’t find it!

it’s okay to change course if you’re not vibing with where you’re headed. if you want to move onto a new aesthetic - that’s fine! you may lose some followers if they don’t click with your new vibe, but you’ll inevitably gain some new ones.

avoid frequent name changes. so many of the artists i follow have changed their brands / urls over the years that i don’t recognize them anymore.

tag your work properly. on tumblr, the first five tags on the original post are the tags your work will pop up in in the search feature. make those first five tags the Most important ones; example: #furry, #anthro, #art #fursona etc. twitter’s algo seems flip-flop if it likes tags or hates them. if you see a tag trending, repost your art in a photoset with the hashtag in the post [example: if #pokemon is trending, repost some of your pokemon fanart with the hashtag in the post body]. if the tag isn’t trending,,, i’ll be honest it’s a gamble if twitter likes your post or not at that point. i have no advice for that hell algorithm.

hosting raffles or doing a mini art request event [example: “leave a ref and i might draw your oc”] is good for traction while simultaneously giving back to the community + your audience a little!

try and reply to / like comments on your work. it’s not required per se, but it’s good to express gratitude.

engage with other members of the community. comment on other peoples work. like it. retweet it. follow other people. obviously don’t be disingenuous about it, but this is what the professionals call ~networking~

don’t compare yourself to others. this one is one you have got to keep in mind constantly. you’re going to find 17 year olds with huge followings and 30 year olds that are doing professional industry work whose level feels alien and almost out of reach. if you’re not doing as well, don’t let yourself get discouraged. we all gotta start somewhere!

related to the above point: be nice to your followers. venting on main about not having the same audience volume as others can come off as a huge middle finger to the audience you already have.

gaining a following takes time. unless you get a really lucky break, it’s going to take a lot of work and self promotion to build up your brand.

slap your name on everything. i mean it. any art you do - sign it. watermark it. people can and will share art in telegram channels and discord servers, and if the art interests someone they can easily source it back to you if your name is on it.

you can buy adspace. if you’re catering to a furry audience specifically, you can buy adspace on furaffinity pretty easily. inkblot i believe also offers adspace for artists though i haven’t looked too deep into it. this is really a “if you’re okay burning money” situation, as the huge chunkk of internet users have adblockers now and it’s a gamble if people will see or even click on your ad.

just have fun and do your own thing. you can hop on trends and draw art that caters to your audience’s tastes, but don’t forget to draw what YOU want and what YOU’RE about. Draw what makes YOU happy.

hope these help!! ;w;

#long post

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nopeferatu · 1 year

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love❤

OOF...well, since most of my favorite pieces of writing are eternal wips, I guess I'll just post the snippets here, haha. Please bear in mind that nearly all of them are over a year old, and none of them are very good—I do draw more than I write, after all. But I do dabble here and there and so yeah! This is some of that!

5. Untitled WIP

This is suuuper old, one of the first things I wrote after watching the movie again in early 2022 and falling deep down the rabbit hole. It's actually not that great and is pretty sad in it's entirety, so I tried to grab the better chunk, haha. Try, if you can, to mind the first person pov—I know better now.

It's been years and I still really miss you, Jack. All I known in life is the feeling a missing you. You think I'd get used to the feeling, what with all them months and miles between us in the before times, but this missing you runs so much deeper than these tired bones have ever known before.

Yanno how you said your Mama believed in the Pentecost? She ever tell you 'bout that Bible story, how God made Adam and Eve? It goes like this—the Lord took a big pile a sand and breathed into it to make Adam, then he took Adam's rib and from it, went on to make Eve.

Was thinking on it the other day and figured, what if that's how God made the two a us? What if he breathed life into a pile a horse shit, then when I came up, took my rib, put it in a rodeo fuck up and sent the two a us out to the world, pair a deuces trying to fnd their way? I always thought maybe this hurt was emptiness, where my heart went missing after you were gone 'cause you'd taken it like you took my shirt. Now I'm thinking, what if the pain's from that ol' rib coming back after you died to settle in where it don't belong no more? Tryna rearrange all my insides that gone without for so long, and my body's rejecting it like a horse rejecting rider 'cause it knows it don't belong to me no more, never did, neither.

Then again, maybe it's just busted up in there. Maybe it has been since the summer a '63, and I just ain't taken notice 'til you went on and met your maker.

Maybe this ol' heart's just broken.

Know I shouldn't be asking shit from you considering all the ways I took and didn't give you nothing but hurts in return, but I’m asking as a man who never asked for nothing from you, neither—you wait for me, Jack Twist, just a little longer. Used to say that I couldn't wait to see you again, but you helped give me a second shot, try and fix up what I didn’t think I could hardly stand no more. Now I know I can bid my time here a while longer, being a daddy and granddaddy, living out some a the life that you didn't get to have.

So you wait for me… even if it's just so I can tell you how God damn sorry I am for it all.

I love ya, little darlin'. Reckon I always have, reckon I always will. You enjoy them whiskey rivers, but make sure to save the last round for me.

4. Want

This snippet is also super old, and once again, forgive me for the first person pov. Ik a lot of ppl don't typically like it in fiction and I've also kind of grown unfond of it. I was young! I was dumb! I've learned I've learned I've learned!!!

As I'm crying and coughing up the blood from my lungs into my mouth, the second thought comes to mind: just how bad I want for Ennis to come find me, come and save me from what I know's coming next. But he weren't there. Never was, never would be. The tears came down harder 'cause a that one.

The very last impossible thing I wanted was something I dreamed of for a long time. Even though most everything I craved was outta reach, I always thought I could get it, somehow, some way if I tried hard enough. But from the very start I'd known this want was impossible, and yet sometimes I wanted it more than I wanted life itself.

Dying alone on the side a that hot Texas highway, all I wanted was to be nineteen again, close enough to touch the Heavens on Brokeback Mountain.

I thought I could hear Ennis hollering for me back at camp, and I smiled. I'm comin', cowboy.

Then I closed my eyes, and would never want for nothing again.

3. Untitled WIP

I really hope to finish this one, someday. I really like playing around with the other potential bad end of BBM, where Jack ditches Ennis for Randall after May 1983 because his hope and patience has run dry.

"Name's Randall. Educated type of fella, went to college, got him a job as foreman of the ranch down a ways from my place." Jack takes a deep breath, sighs it out. "Tells me he loves me more times 'n even Lureen's said it," he stays quiet a moment, kicks at the loose pebbles on the ground. "Tell you what—feels good to hear it, too. Man's gotta know he's loved ever now 'n' again, Ennis."

Ennis thinks of cold mountain nights filled with the bleating of sheep and illegal elk, of dozens of jobs taken and abandoned, of divorce; thinks of four years of missing and bruising kisses, of sixteen years of hands worshiping at the temple of a bull rider's broken body, and of every cold night in between filled with dreams about bright blue eyes and the warmth of a perfect smile. He thinks of the last twenty years he spent dropping everything at the siren call of a postcard, and for the first time in his life Ennis thinks about love; wonders what it might be, if not that.

But Ennis doesn't say so, just clenches his trembling fist even tighter into itself.

2. Five Boys that Jack Twist Had Liked (and One More Whom He Had Loved)

This one is another old one that I reaally hope to finish one day. I have a about 3 1/2 of the 6 part written, I just...need to find the gumption to get through the rest.

4. Andrew Peterson

Andrew had been one of his daddy's ranch hands, a boy who would've been two grades above him if Jack hadn't dropped out of high school his sophomore year. He had just graduated, was one of the lucky few whose parents didn't value his contribution to the family finances over his education, and was hired on for the summer in the hopes of making a little cash before heading out of their dead-end town and into the real world. It was a plan that Jack, at sixteen, had already been well acquainted with.

It wasn't often that the Twist Ranch hired hands around his age to help out around the place, and Jack, always the friendly type and more than just a little lonely, had been eager to make a new acquaintance. Andrew hadn't seemed to mind when Jack started taking his chores alongside him, appearing glad for the company, himself. They shared easy smiles and private jokes, becoming such good friends in such a short time that his Mama would tease about one of them losing their very shadow if the other wasn't around.

Just like with Stephen before him, Jack had been drawn to Andrew like a moth to a flame. He never understood what there was in a boy that drew his eye to them in a way that none of the fillies who flirted around with him ever did, until Andrew, after a tiring day mending the old fence posts that corralled the bulls in and about two months worth of dropping frustrated gestures and signals, had said, "Fuck it," pulled Jack out to his Daddy's feed barn and into a scalding kiss that left Jack weak in the knees.

Andrew hadn't been his first kiss—that honor had gone to lil' Miss Sharon King back in the first grade. Seeing as how Jack was well regarded amongst the ladies as a 'pretty boy', there'd been plenty of kisses after that, too. Andrew had, however, been the first kiss that finally had him understanding what all the fuss was about.

As if to slide it on home, later that summer he even made sure to be Jack's first fuck, rounding out on all the bases that left Jack with a whirlwind of questions about himself and even more feelings bursting inside than his young heart ever thought it could handle.

"Been savin' to go to school in Denver," Andrew started, breaking the silence one night out in the feed barn. They sat passing a cigarette and some of his daddy's stolen whiskey between them, riding out the residual high of a midnight roll in the literal hay. It had been dark out, and with only the full moon and the hot red cherry at the end of the cigarette bathing them in their glow, the two were effectively shielded from the scathing eyes of the light. "'m leavin' in a few months, splittin' before fall comes." His gaze was fixed somewhere on the black horizon, watching something that went unseen to Jack.

Jack felt his stomach sink like the stones he used to skip in the creek way out past his house.

"Denver? Ain't that a might bit far for some schoolin'?" He tried to laugh, but it came out sounding choked and strange. Instead, he looked down into the whiskey bottle in his hand and took a swig from it, willing its sweet burn to help him maintain an air of indifference. "What they got down there, anyway?"

Truth be told he didn't blame Andrew for wanting to go—he had been itching to leave Lightning Flat in the rearview, himself. Still, he was unsure that he wanted the conversation to continue. He didn't want to think about his new companion leaving so soon after this something between them had begun. Nevertheless, curiosity—slightly embittered—took hold and ultimately won out.

Andrew took a long drag out of the cigarette. Its hot cherry burned a bright, fiery red before dulling once more to an ashy gleam. "A chance for fellas like us," he finally breathed. The smoky tendrils made their escape past his lips, taking his words with them.

"Oh," Jack muttered after a beat of silence. He wasn't quite sure he understood, nor wanted to understand, what Andrew was getting at, but tried hard not to let his disappointment seep out into his tone regardless.

It hadn't worked. In a moment, Andrew smashed the lit butt out against the wall, leaving them cloaked in darkness once more before leaning over to kiss him sweetly. It had knocked the breath out of Jack, just like their kisses were wont to do.

"Maybe someday you can come pay me a visit. I dunno, it might just be a sweet life down there, yanno?" Andrew's smile, only barely visible under the glow of the full moon above, was easy and inviting.

For once all motormouth Jack could do was smile back before eager hands, warm like the end of the cigarette and the whiskey settled deep in his belly, were on him again, ready to reignite the fire that set Jack aglow.

That summer, Andrew had pressed red-hot marks into his flesh that would soon fade on the outside but sear into Jack's soul for a lifetime, forever branding him as the different sort of boy he had been both warned about and accused of being in the entirety of his short life.

Looking back, he realized he'd known what Andrew had meant all along. At sixteen years old Jack knew what queer was, and finally understood, with no room for doubt in his mind, that it was him. He reckoned that weren't nobody's business but his own, though.

After that summer, Jack never did see Andrew again.

Twenty-four years later, tucked cozy warm into his Colorado bed, Andrew would awake from a dream about blue eyes and wonder, not for the first time, what had ever happened to the kid who'd been his that one short summer before making the move that forever changed his life. Looking beside himself, into the handsome face that had laid dreaming beside him every night the past fifteen years, Andrew would smile and hope that, wherever Jack Twist was in the world, he had gotten out of Wyoming and been lucky enough to make his own bit of bliss out of the hard hand he'd been dealt.

1. Clipped

Summary: Tomorrow may tell another story, but for tonight, this man—with his baby blue eyes, sleepy, self-conscious grumbles, and beautiful clipped dick—was his, all his, and that was enough. It had to be enough.

Aaand here's a fic I've actually posted! Lol! Fun fact: this was actually the very first fic I wrote following watching bbm again in January 2022, and it remains like. The only thing I'm actually super duper proud of. It isn't even that good, but I'm just proud that I actually finished something for once lol.

Thanks for the ask, @alifeasvivid! :D

#brokeback mountain #ennis del mar #jack twist #still brokeback posting #my writing

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sensitiveheartless · 2 years

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Where do you get all your ideas for these drawings and how do you actually find the strength to do them? Also what happens if you finish a piece and aren't satisfied with it?

Oof, oh man let's see...where I get my ideas from is a tough one, because I get bits of ideas from a lot of different places, and then they just ping around in the circus of my brain until they combine into something I want to make. And with soukoku specifically, there's something about them that appeals very strongly to my sense of humor (not just my sense of humor of course, but it was that aspect which drew me to skk initially), and that makes it easier for me to go "oooh, I want to draw them doing this", or "wouldn't it be funny if they—", etc.

Basically, because I think about them a lot, that leads to things like, say, me listening to the Little Mermaid soundtrack one day while cooking and thinking "Hey, wouldn't it be funny if Chuuya was Sebastian and Dazai was the french Chef" and then running with it and writing a very very weird oneshot. Or, me taking a walk in the snow and thinking "hey what if soukoku were walking in the snow and then Dazai flopped over and started being dramatic about being Snow White" and then my Snow Day comic happened.

As for how I find the strength to do them (and unfortunately I feel like this isn't going to be a very inspirational answer): for me, drawing is a way that I process, calm myself down, and just...express myself. Ah, for example, that recent "Operation Quiet Heart" comic I made recently! I binge-drew that in about two days, because several things had happened to make me Very Stressed and Upset, and so I drew something silly but also comforting because I knew it would make me feel better. And it did! By the time I had sketched it out I had gone from a state of "I am about to either start biting people, or burst into tears" to "Okay I can manage this actually, it's not that big of a deal".

At this point, honestly, it's worse for me when I don't draw. A while ago I hurt my drawing hand while gardening and had to rest it, and in less than a day I started trying to teach myself how to draw with my non dominant hand, just so that I could make something. That's how feral I was going, not being able to draw anything. (I'm actually slowly getting better at left-hand drawing! Can't really do lineart very well yet, but I've occasionally used it for very loose coloring/non-precision stuff when my right hand needs a break.)

It's probably not the healthiest, but...I figure there are worse things I could rely on. Drawing daily has helped me get through some of the worst parts of my life so far—even at times when I couldn't express what I was feeling in words, I could still draw. I think that's just how my brain is wired, sometimes visuals are easier than words. (I like writing a lot, but it's definitely harder for me.)

Aaaand as for what I do when I don't feel satisfied with a piece—I'm gonna put the art ramblings under the cut, since this is already getting long—but the tl:dr is that it depends on how stubborn I'm feeling at the time :D

For example! Sometimes I finish a piece and go "eh", and then I just leave it!

Like this one! I don't hate it or anything, but after a while of messing around with it, it still wasn't quite what I wanted. Close, but not quite. Didn't quite like how Chuuya's hair turned out and such—so, I decided it was a learning experience and left it at that. Maybe I'll come back to the idea at a later point, but honestly I had no plan when I started this one and was just vibing, so I didn't take it as much of a loss.

And then sometimes I get really, really stubborn about a piece, and keep working at it until I get it to look how I want. For example, this one!

This one took me a WHILE, even just to figure out how I wanted the poses to work. I kept drawing sketches, turning off the layer and then trying again on a new layer. So first we had this:

But I felt like adding Dazai to this pose would be awkward, because he would be so eclipsed by Chuuya, so I tried again.

And nope, still didn't like it. having the profiles like this felt too stiff somehow, even though I liked how Dazai was holding on to him. (Also here's an example of me coming back to an idea later, because I recently made a side-profile-facing-corruption-piece that I ended up actually vibing with)

So, I tried again.

I don't have the full undersketch for this one, because I mangled it while drawing, but here—you can vaguely see what I was going for, mostly with where Dazai's arms are positioned. So I had the pose, but then of course there was the process of actually coloring it, and that was a whole other thing. Oh also Chuuya's face took a WHILE for me to get to a place where I didn't hate it.

Here I was mostly just trying to figure out base colors(and the background), and I ended up redoing almost all of it because I was being really sloppy—especially with Dazai's bandages and the curse marks on Chuuya's arms. Also Chuuya's head was a bit too large in proportion to his body, so I ended up selecting all those layers and shrinking it.

Getting closer, I fixed the curse marks and messed around with Chuuya's expression more (but I still didn't like it). Only now I felt like Dazai and Chuuya's heads were too zoomed out and small in this composition (also I tipped them too far back and now it looked like they were falling in a weird way), and also I wanted to add something else because I felt like Chuuya's hands were drawing a bit too much attention (plus it was a messy hand and I didn't feel like fixing it), so I decided to add a graviton to cover the hand and make that lower corner dark. I really wanted the focus to be Dazai's arms holding on to Chuuya.

So I changed Chuuya's expression again, adjusted the angle, zoomed it in, added the graviton, and then messed around with filters to get the colors more how I wanted them to look. And THEN I decided I was done, because I didn't want to overwork it, but yeah! That was one of the times where me being very persistent with a piece actually wound up with something I really liked.

Long answer short: sometimes when I don't like a piece I keep trying until I do, and sometimes I just let it be a learning experience, and try a different approach the next time.

#ask box #these were really interesting questions #thank you anon!#I hope this wasn't too much information aksdfjskdfjks #so much of me doing art is just throwing stuff at the page/canvas until something sticks #ESPECIALLY when it comes to painting #I'm getting better at doing quick and simple comics in my style but paintings take a lot more effort and time for me #*draws back curtain on my process* behold: a parade of clowns #...side note but #honestly I have really lucked out by finding people who appreciate me being weird #like #I was not expecting people on here to enjoy my stuff when I first started posting #but then people were really nice!#if i can make literally anyone laugh with my comics I'm absurdly happy #I really appreciate how kind people have been about the shenanigans I draw

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ellavi-a03 · 2 years

Note

5, 13, 18, 22, 26, 29, 32, 33

5. Do you have any writing superstitions? What

are they and why are they 100% true?

Oof…basically, I feel that if I don’t write at LEAST once a week, I’ll lose my ability to do so forever lol.

13. What is a subject matter that is incredibly

difficult for you write about? What is easy?

Alright so, I have to admit, somehow writing all the dubcon and noncon was…easier than expected? Like it was still hard, but not as hard as I thought it would be. What was harder though, was expressing and showing fear. A lot of readers were confused why Nora didn’t run away when she had so many chances, and I feel I didn’t communicate how scared she was that well. So I would say communicating emotions is harder for me.

18. Choose a passage from your writing. Tell me about the backstory of this moment. How you came up with it, how it changed from start to end.

Ooh…Nora’s final escape changed a lot. Isaak wasn’t as violent towards her at first, but I realized he sort of needed to be to get that adrenaline rush for her to stab him and finally escape. At first he was mostly trying to sweet talk her and manipulate her, but I realized I kind of wanted to show this as the moment he officially lost it even more.

22. How organized are you with your writing?

Describe to me your organization method, if it

exists. What tools do you use? Notebooks?

Binders? Apps? The Cloud?

Not very 😅 much of my organization method is quickly jotting down ideas in my notes app. It’s a total mess right now.

26. How do you get into your character's head?

How do you get out? Do you ever regret going in

there in the first place?

Hmm. I just kinda…envision it, I guess? It’s hard to explain. I don’t have a specific method. It’s why I explored both Nora and Isaak’s POVs so much; I wanted to see how I did that.

And yeah, let’s just say writing from Isaak’s pov wasn’t always the most pleasant experience haha.

29. Where do you draw your inspiration? What do

you do when the inspiration well runs dry?

Inspiration really just strikes me. Sometimes I desperately want to write, other days…I just don’t. On days like that I tend to relax, watch a show I like, read something, and try not to force myself to write.

32. What is a line from a poem/novel/fanfic etc

that you return to from time and time again? How

did you find it? What does it mean to you?

Okay so, there’s this webcomic that I sincerely think changed my life called Dr. Frost. There’s so many lines in it about mental health that really resonated with me as a teen who “masked” a lot of her symptoms. This is one that hit me hard.

33. Do you practice any other art besides writing?

Does that art ever tie into your writing, or is it

entirely separate?

I wish. I like doing character designs, but other drawing doesn’t appeal to me. I love the arts and being creative, but other than writing, I don’t do a lot haha.

#asks #personal

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azamonvoid · 6 months

Text

Y'all think if I were to reread Stormbringer it would smh make me obsessed w bsd again?

Like, I not leaving the fandom but ever since the end of s5 was released months before the manga caught up, I haven't been as excited abt bsd. Still get excited abt new chapters and definitely excited to know more abt Bram, but I don't even draw Chuuya anymore, even tho I used to draw him A LOT ;_;

I gotta find smth abt bsd to get me hooked again oof-

Literally only missing like 3 light novels (dead apple, dark era & the day I picked up Dazai) I've been postponing to get so I could get new cosplays and get the Yukito Ayatsuji vs Natsuhiko Kyougoku manga volumes (only got the 1st one)

Also doesn't help I smh always manage to remember the content of what I read, so it's actually harder for me to decide to reread smth cuz ik my brain it's gonna be like "oh yeah, then x things happens cuz of y thing" yadda yadda 💀

#talking hatrack #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd stormbringer

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prettyboyeddiemunson · 2 years

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oh sweet jesus 😍 i cannot wait for this

okay wait; but also, imagine vampire eddie just FUCKING the daylights out of you, all day and all night because well, he’s a vampire, he can’t make you do wtv tf he wants. and tbh if he okay with it 🤷🏻‍♀️

but anyway, and then you say something like “oh my god” and he’s just like “not even god can save you now” 😍😍😻🦇🦇🦇😻😻🦇

OH HE TOTALLY WOULD TOO

sex with eddie was always incredible and just mindblowing as hell when he was human, but now???? goddamn, that man is a fucking machine. super speed? yep. stamina out the ass? you bet! the ability to make you cum so much harder than before? oh yes!

like let’s go back to the “eddie develops telepathy as part of his new vampire abilities” thing for a second, because i feel it would serve so well here. you’re fooling around, right? your thoughts are just a jumbled mess of lust, desire, the most filthy things imaginable—and eddie is seeing all of it and just eating that shit up. the smell of your arousal, the vulgar film in your head in which you both are the stars, the scent of your blood getting sweeter & thicker the more turned on you get? fucking god. he is going to rail the everloving shit out of you, exactly as he’s seeing it in your mind. he’s going to hold you tightly against him, maybe choke you carefully, cover your skin in bites wherever he can reach from whatever position you’re in, he’s going to say the most disgusting, toe curling, hottest shit to you, and you’re both going to love every goddamn minute of it. this goes on for hours, with few breaks in between for you to rest, hydrate, nap, whatever you have to do. then you’re going right back at it, immediately upon your consent. good luck walking for the next two fucking weeks after all of that.

and the god thing, oof. imagine that he’s got his fingers in your mouth as he’s absolutely destroying your cunt, standing at the edge of the bed as you lie on it, your legs thrown on his shoulders as he fucks you deeply. that big, throbbing cock, hitting all the perfect places as you claw at him, at the bed, anything in reach. he leans down at one point to put the fingers in your mouth, mimicking his cock with them, and when he grabs your throat with that same hand, that’s when the “oh my god” slips from your lips.

and i see this fucker just stopping, hand still around your throat and dick still stretching your sopping pussy. the room seems quieter now, without the obscene sounds of sex echoing off the walls. you’re whining, trying to get him to thrust again, but he’s smirking with a look of arrogance in those lust-blown eyes. you know that he can tell what you’re thinking, that he can see the neediness and sheer desperation in your head, and you hate it so much in that moment. he leans down, running his fangs along your pulse point before licking his way to your lips.

“there is no god,” he whispers, kissing you hotly and drawing some blood from your lips with his fangs. he licks it up seductively, grinning smugly as he looks down at you. “there’s only me. i’m your god, y/n. i want to hear you say it.”

he nearly pulls out, and you just whine the words out. you want him to move, fuck, you need him to pound you again like before. you cling to him, practically sobbing the words in desperation when he withdraws completely. goddamn him. and he just grins smugly, holding your throat as he kisses you deeply. he drinks up your filthy moans as he slams inside again, and begins railing into you at his usual fast, otherworldly pace.

“that’s better,” he murmurs against your lips, drawing back to sink his teeth into your neck. you cry out in pure ecstasy, and he is chuckling as he begins sucking the blood from your neck. “besides, even if god did exist, there’s no way in hell he’s going to save you now.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #vampire eddie munson #eddie munson smut

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fangirltothefullest · 3 years

Text

Undiagnosed adhd causes problems people don't don't talk about enough.... Oh yeah they talk about how it affects productivity and sometimes they talk about emotionally how it affects people but they don't really talk about how it can cause problems with memory, how it can get you labeled as things you're not. How it can harm you from the time you're little because people just don't understand. How it can make lazy and selfish trigger words for anxiety that people just will not understand.

Undiagnosed adhd as a kid for me sucked so much. I was told "you have a race car brain in a beetle body" and that? Actually fuck that. My engine is super smart but I'm incapable of showing or using it. That's what they were telling me.

Essentially I'm just lazy.

An acknowledgement that I'm not stupid but a reminder than I'm too lazy to use my brain.

You can get diagnosed with "lazy" really quickly if you're not hyperactive (though it happens to hyperactive people too) when you have adhd.

"if only she applied herself more"

"if only she was motivated"

"she's not a trouble maker but she's just so unmotivated and distracted".

"She's not failing but she's not gifted because she's just not motivated to do all her work."

No, I was unfocused in a hyper-distracting room with a shit ton of kids making noise in a fast-paced day to day of exceptionally boring work. I lived in my head because outside stimuli was so overwhelming and noises were always so loud how could I hear people?

The only reason I got work done in school was because I could draw on my papers and that eased the frustrated lack of dopamine when completing tasks. It was the only motivator my brain found acceptible.

And that kind of talk really carries with you until it morphs into mingling with rejection sensitivity and turning also into a sense of "I'm never doing enough" anxiety so even on your freetime you have flashes of "shit what am I forgetting what did I do wrong what am I not doing fast enough" and since you are incapable of being this mystical superhuman everyone around you somehow seems to think you should be you just... stew in it.

"Why can't you be like so and so?" Oof that one happened a lot from every adult around me.

And the rejection sensitivity? Pretty sure that comes from adults around you constantly telling you that you've let them down, that you're just not up to par, that you're capable but willingly not doing it. That you're selfish and therefore asking for anything just proves that point. A desperation to be accepted even though you're always told if you just "apply yourself more" if you just "try harder" you'll be enough. You'll be accepted. You'll be loved without conditions.

And having memory problems on top of that? Talk about an unintentional gaslight dartboard. "Selfish" becomes a dirty word and a label entirely out of your control. If you can't remember then you must be lying.

"You didn't remember this because you don't care" I do care, I can't help it- "Maybe if you listened better!" I do listen, I can't recall it, it's not my fault- "Everyone else remembers, why can't you?"

Everyone else listened but nobody seemed to hear me.

"You did a, b and c on purpose." But I didn't remember doing it- I wouldn't do it on purpose but what if I did? I can't remember.

A sibling lies and says I did something naughty, but I can't remember if I did it so my excuses fall flat. What was I doing at this specific time? I don't know. Where was I when it happened? I don't know. So obviously I get blamed. That happened so much I used to just take the blame for my siblings even if i knew they did it.

You get known as the "naughty one" so it tracks that I'd get punished for it even if I didn't do it.

I STILL have a knee-jerk apology on my tongue I have to stifle when people call me lazy. I know I'm not lazy and its still ingrained to apologize for it. I still have to forcefully stop myself from being emotinally devastated when I let someone down. ~Selfish~ plays in my head like a stupid mantra.

You can spend so long crafting your personality to being less intrusive, less needy, more helpful, more accepting, more kind, more affectionate because how else will you be accepted, that you forget how to have needs. But you've finally proved you're worth it because all you you now is give. Nobody can call you selfish if you're only ever giving to other people. And it's nice to help! It feels good! But if you can't help are you really trying?

People think I'm not the smartest. I'm often mistaken as stupid because I'm bubbly and they're so shocked when I say something smart. But that's kind of what I get isn't it?

I'm kind because I know what hurt feels like. Im openly loving because I know what rejection feels like. I'm gentle when people mess up because I know it's what I wish I had had. I listen attentively as I can manage because if I'm not super focused qnd trying at 115% then I'm not listening. I write it down so i don't forget halfway through conversations.

They don't talk about lazy and selfish enough when talking about undiagnosed adhd.

No amount of relief from getting diagnosed as an adult can lessen the deep and vulnerable hurt of the realization that all this time there was something actually wrong and instead of even for a moment wondering if that was the case, everyone around you decided that lazy and selfish were easier because they only saw how it was affecting them.

Who were the selfish ones?

Who were too lazy to think that a child wasn't doing this on purpose to make their lives harder?

What a bitter irony.

Don't comment if all you have to say is how much a person with adhd burdens you as a nautorypical. I don't fucking care.

You don't get to go through life mentally fine and decide my suffering is a burden for you.

I'm so tired of hearing how hard it is having to deal with my adhd. How it's so mentally taxing to do all the thinking for me. How it's it's hard to deal with.

Fuck you and the ableist horse you ride in on.

I'm not here to make your life easier. I already don't ask for much from anyone. So neurotypicals can reblog but please don't comment unless it's for support. I'm tired of apologizing for existing.

#adhd #tashi vents #im going to have a period in a week and im already upset #i am in no mood to argue

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harley-sunday · 2 years

Text

August Rush [06]

Summary: You’ve known Carlos for almost as long as you have been working in Formula One but you never expected it would take you seven years and a concussion to realise that maybe you like him as more than just a friend.

Pairing: Carlos Sainz jr x reader (OFC nicknamed Pip) | Max Verstappen x reader (best friends)

Warnings: Language. NSFW. 18+ Smut. But like. It’s filthy. You have been warned.

Word count: 5.6k

AN: Woo boy. This one is for my 💫 anon. You know what you did… Also this chapter is- It’s- Oof. Go forth and enjoy. ♥

Masterlist

It’s still hot when you wake up for the second time today but unlike this morning it’s not just because of the weather. There are other factors at play. Like Carlos’ face buried in your neck, his warm breath hitting your skin at steady intervals, and the way your back is pressed up against his chest, both of you a tangle of sweaty limbs you’re not sure you ever want to unravel yourself from.

You try not to move, try to keep as still as possible so as to not wake Carlos, perfectly content to spend the remainder of the day and all of the night in his arms, prolonging that pure bliss you felt when you finally gave in to seven years of- A loud bark coming from inside the house startles you then and you can feel Carlos stir against you in response.

“He’s probably hungry,” Carlos mutters as he presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Hmm,” you agree quietly and you’re about to offer to get up and feed Piñon when Carlos pulls you into him. A quiet whimper escapes you when you feel his semi-hard cock press against your ass and without thinking you push against him even more. You can feel yourself growing wet and let out a whispered, “Carlos,” that almost sounds as desperate as you feel.

He smiles against your skin and hooks his leg over and then in between yours so he can grind against you, his voice low and full of promises when he says, “I guess he can wait a little longer.”

Taking this as your cue you grab his wrist and bring his hand up to your mouth, letting your tongue swirl around his middle and ring finger before you take them into your mouth and suck on both, not missing the way Carlos grows harder almost instantly. When you’ve got his fingers wet enough you pull back and with your palm flat against the back of his hand you guide him down to in between your legs, where you press him against your mound.

He catches on quickly and runs his fingers through your folds once, gathering some of your slick before he pushes both of them inside in one go, his teeth scraping on the sensitive skin just below your ear at the same time, drawing a moan from you. “Still so tight, mami,” he marvels, slowly scissoring his fingers to open you up more. “You gonna be a good girl and make yourself come on my fingers?”

“Yes,” you breathe, your hand pushing his against you even more as you circle your hips, your orgasm already starting to build somewhere deep inside of you.

He stills his fingers inside of you and you don’t miss the way his voice darkens when he asks, “Yes, who?”

“Yes, Carlos,” you whimper, grinding against him, desperate for him to start moving again.

“Mami,” he warns, starting to pull out, “intenta de nuevo.”

Try again? Oh.

“Sé que lo entiendes.”

Oh. You bite your lip because, fuck. Of course you understand. You let out a ragged breath and push against his fingers when you say, “Yes, papi.”

“Good girl,” he says, his voice thick and barely above a whisper. He moves his fingers then and starts pumping in and out of you slowly, his mouth sucking on the pulse point of your neck.

You meet his thrusts with your hips, trying to edge him on with a quiet, “Más rapido,” the Spanish phrase rolling off your tongue with ease after hearing it so many times during his time at Toro Rosso.

Carlos groans at your words but does as he’s told, the pace he’s setting now almost relentless, making your orgasm approach at lightning speed. When you let out a moan he lets his teeth scrape over the skin he’s been sucking at up until now and then- Then he curls his fingers just right, hitting that spot inside of you so perfectly.

“Please,” you beg, desperately chasing the high you know is just within reach now. A gasp escapes you when he puts his thumb on your clit and starts drawing circles while pressing down, “Fuck-”

“Be a good girl,” Carlos whispers before he licks the shell of your ear.

“Almost,” you pant, clenching your walls and pushing your thighs together so you can trap his fingers inside, grinding against his hand in earnest now.

“Come for me, mami.”

Fuck. You are a good girl, you decide right then and there, and so you do as you're told.

***

Carlos places small, open-mouthed kisses all over your stomach, slowly making his way up to where one of his hands is already cupping your breast, his thumb rubbing over your hard nub, and you want to tell him this does nothing to help you come down from your high, that, if anything he's only prolonging the state of pure bliss you're currently in, but you also don't want him to stop and so you keep quiet and enjoy the way he's making you feel.

He has just reached the underside of your boob, licking and nipping at the skin there, when you hear Piñon bark from somewhere in the house again. Carlos groans against your skin but swirls his tongue around your hard nipple anyway before he pushes himself up and presses a kiss to your mouth, "I'll go."

"Hmm," you agree quietly, your fingers dancing over his face.

"I'm gonna take a shower-" he says and kisses the tip of your nose. "Feed the dog-" another kiss, but this time it's the corner of your mouth. "And then I'll make us something to eat?"

"Perfect," you breathe against his lips with a smile. "I'll be right there, I just-"

He captures your mouth with his and kisses you gently before he pulls back and gets out of bed, "Take your time, cariño. No rush."

You don't say anything, too distracted by him towering over you, only letting out a content sigh, admiring the view Carlos offers when he turns around and walks to the bathroom, which makes him chuckle.

***

You're outside, enjoying the last of the sun in one of the lounge sets after a light dinner earlier, you with your toes tucked away under Carlos’ thigh, his fingers running up and down your lower leg slowly, and him with his head tilted back, eyes closed and oddly quiet for once. Except for some bird chatter and Carlos' steady breaths there is a comforting silence surrounding you and you can’t help but think that this is a perfect way to end a perfect Sunday.

You wish you could stop time, wish you could stay in this moment forever, or save it for a rainy day, but Carlos' phone rings then and pulls both of you back to reality.

Carlos curses quietly but when he pulls up his phone and sees who's calling he gets up anyway, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he says, "It's my mom. I should probably take it."

"Of course," you tell him with a smile. "Say hi to her from me?"

He looks at you with his eyebrows knitted together, as if he can't quite figure out if that's how he wants his family to find out about you two, but then he relaxes into a smile, no doubt remembering you know his family from before. He nods and slides his thumb across the screen to answer the call and greet his mother.

***

"They're coming on Friday," you echo, eyes wide when you realise what this entails.

"Yes," Carlos confirms with a nod as he holds out his hands and pulls you to your feet. "They really want to see you before you leave. It's been what- Three years? Four?"

"I saw them at Barcelona this year-" you counter even though you're not sure why. "And wasn't your dad at Silverstone?"

"You saw them in the paddock, yes," Carlos agrees easily enough, "but the last time you spent time off track with us was Abu Dhabi, no?"

"Hmm," you nod, remembering the restaurant his parents had taken you to. "It must have been."

"Exactly," he lets go of your hands and wraps his arms around your shoulders loosely. "So it's about time."

"Did you-" Your voice catches, betraying just how much of a big deal this is to you. You've always gotten along with both Reyes and Carlos senior really well because even in those first few months at Toro Rosso when you and Carlos were at odds with each other, his mother kept reassuring you time and time again that he'd come around eventually. When Carlos moved to Renault you'd still see his parents around the track sometimes of course but it would always be for a quick chat in between practice or after quali. The last time you spent more than just a few minutes with them was in Abu Dhabi three years ago, where the Sainz family invited you over for dinner and it felt as if no time had passed at all. But back then you and Carlos weren’t a thing and now- You look at Carlos and try again, "Did you tell them about-"

"Us?"

You nod and look up at him, "Yeah?"

"No." Carlos grins that wicked grin you love so much and kisses the tip of your nose, "I'm not telling them I have a girlfriend over the phone, cariño,"

He sounds so- Confident. Like this is a given. Like there's no doubt in his mind that this is what you are now.

That you are his and he is yours.

He is yours. The realisation echoes through your mind over and over again. He is yours. He’s made himself yours, because to all intents and purposes it was Carlos who decided that what happened today was a turning point. A shift from friendship to something more.

He is yours and he’s not just saying it because you know he doesn’t take things like this lightly. If anything he’s in it for the long haul, only speaking into existence what he feels deserves it. He’s always been like this and it’s one of the reasons you like him so much you realise now.

Your mind is still racing, still trying to come to terms with what just happened and- All of a sudden there are tears in your eyes and a lump in your throat that proves hard to swallow, the quiet enormity of it all not lost on you.

Carlos takes your silence for something else, pulling back a little as if he's not sure you want him this close, and when he looks at you his eyes are dark, a hint of something- worry, fear, love- clouding them. "Should I have-"

"No," you quickly reassure him, your hand on his cheek, not missing the way he leans into your touch. "No, I'd much rather tell them in person too. It's just-" You look up at him and smile, "I'm your girlfriend?"

"Yes?" He says in such a matter of fact kind of way that you lose whatever inhibitions you may have had.

It took you seven years to arrive here, at this point, together, but now that you have you don’t ever want to go anywhere else without him and so you smile up at Carlos and stroke his cheek with your thumb, “Yes."

You nod, "Yes, I am, mi novio."

***

It's different- After.

Different, but good. There's a quiet calm between the two of you, as if something has settled and this is how it always was meant to be. There are still lingering touches and longing looks but they're no longer hidden and it's- It's good.

It’s good and so you're in his bathroom that night, after you’ve gone over to yours to grab your toiletries and pyjamas just before, brushing your teeth side by side, with him pulling silly faces at you in the mirror and you trying not to laugh and choke on your toothpaste.

You find yourself snuggling up to him in bed not much later, your head on his chest and his arm around your shoulders to keep you close. A yawn escapes and you can feel your eyes growing heavy but there has been something on your mind all evening and so you look up at him, “Carlos?”

“Hmm,” he hums, his fingers stroking your upper arm lazily.

Taking a deep breath you allow yourself some time to find the right words, knowing this might come out wrong if you just blurt it out. Still, you struggle, “How would you like to- I mean, what- When do we-”

Somehow he understands, “Tell everyone?”

“Yeah.” You pull back a little so you can look at him properly, “I’m ok telling your parents later this week but-” Scrunching your nose you admit, “I’d really like to keep you to myself a little longer.”

He presses a kiss to your hairline, “It’s your call, cariño. I can’t wait to show you off as mine to the rest of the world but-” He smiles at you, “If you want to wait a little longer, we’ll wait.”

“Thank you.”

He chuckles then, “It might be fun to sneak around the paddock for a while.”

You can’t help but smile then, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he echoes, letting his fingers travel further down your back, cupping your ass and giving it a squeeze. “I know a few places we could-”

***

Once Monday morning rolls around you settle back into the rhythm of last week and so here you are, at the breakfast bar, catching up on emails and checking in with Pierre and Yuki to make sure they've gotten the latest content calendar update for their socials so they can start promoting the second half of the season from Friday onwards. Spa isn't for another ten days but you've always prefered to be ahead of the game rather than to trail behind everyone else.

You’re too caught up in work to hear Carlos come in and so you all but jump out of your seat when he suddenly comes up behind you and pinches your sides before he rests his chin on your shoulder, “What are you up to?”

“Looking at flights back to Faenza,” you tell him as you pull up the tab you had open earlier. “We leave for Spa Wednesday morning but I’d like to go into the office on Tuesday so I figured I could fly Monday afternoon? That way I have at least some time with your parents before-”

“They’d really like that,” Carlos says, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. “And so would I.”

“Me too,” you answer truthfully because even though you’re a little nervous to see his parents again now that you’re his girlfriend, you do look forward to spending some time with them and being able to properly catch up.

“Do you still need to be cleared to fly or-”

“Not sure.” You shrug, “I’d like to go see a doctor anyway. I don’t know if there’s any tests they can do but it would be nice to see where I’m at, you know?”

“I’ll ask my Dad,” Carlos offers. “I think he has a friend here who has a practice close by.” He kisses your temple then, “Let me take a shower first.”

“Yep,” you push yourself back and step off the bar stool, “I’ll make us some lunch.”

***

Later that afternoon you find yourself outside again, Carlos with his head in your lap, playing a game of online chess against Charles, and you in the corner of the lounge set with your feet propped up on the table, reading a book and absentmindedly carting your fingers through Carlos’ hair, Piñon snoring somewhere close by.

When the sun starts to disappear behind the large pine trees on the west side of the garden, Carlos puts his phone down and offers to get dinner started as he looks up from where he's lying in your lap.

You let your fingers ghost over the bridge of his nose before you boop it, "Why don't I make dinner today?"

He takes your wrist and brings your hand to his mouth, pressing a kiss against your palm, "Nope."

"Nope?" You shake your head, "You don’t trust my cooking, Sainz?"

"I trust your cooking just fine," he counters with a grin, "but I like to take care of you, cariño. Next time, when we are in your place, you can do the cooking."

"Next time, huh," you tease with an eyebrow raised.

He doesn't take the bait, "Yes. Next time." Carlos presses another kiss to the inside of your wrist and pushes himself up then, "You can set the table if you want?"

"Hmm,” you tease, “I’ll think about it.” You let out a laugh when Carlos throws you a look but then you get up as well and follow him to the kitchen, Piñon trailing after you. Dangling your hand you stretch your fingers and, as always, the dog pushes his head against your hand, knowing he’ll get some scratches out of this.

Your phone rings then and when you look at the screen you’re not surprised to see it’s seven o’clock sharp and it’s Max who’s calling you. He promised he would, after all. You take the call as you lean against the door frame of the french doors that lead to the patio, “Hi Maxy.”

“Hey,” he replies and you can almost hear the smile coming through. “How are you feeling?”

“Good,” you answer with a smile. “No more headaches, no more nausea or dizziness so-”

“That’s good,” Max agrees easily enough. “Do you think you can fly back or?”

“Me personally? No. I mean I could try, but-” you let out a laugh when you hear Max sigh at your lame joke. “Yeah, ok, that was bad-”

“Awful.”

“-but I think I’m ok to take a flight,” you continue, effectively ignoring Max. “I’m seeing a doctor tomorrow just to be sure. I’m flying directly back to Faenza though.”

“When?”

“Monday.”

The silence on the other end of the line lasts a little too long and you can just about hear the gears in Max’ head turning as he tries to figure out why you’re flying back that late.

You decide to help him out, “Carlos’ parents are coming in on Friday and I haven’t seen them for so long so I thought it’d be nice to catch up.”

“Oh. Ok,” Max draws out slowly. You make a face, trying to figure out if you’ve given anything away.

You feel Carlos arms wrap around your waist then, his chin resting on your shoulder, “Let me say hi.”

“Max, Carlos wants to say hi, I’ll put you on speaker, ok?” You turn around in Carlos’ arms and hold the phone up between you.

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

Carlos grins widely even though Max can’t see him, “Hey.”

“Hi mate, how’s it going?”

“Good,” Carlos answers. “How’s Brazil?”

“Yeah, it’s good. Nice to get away for a bit.” Max clears his throat then, “How are things over there? She’s not giving you too much trouble?”

Carlos looks at you then, one eyebrow raised and a mischievous grin on his lips that has you worried, “She is a very good girl.”

Oh. Shit. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks and so you desperately try to regain control of the conversation, “She is right here.”

Max laughs but Carlos doesn’t say anything, his eyes still on yours as he lets his tongue run across his lower lip and grips onto your hips a little tighter. Fuck. This means trouble.

Like always, Max comes to your rescue although it is very much unintentionally this time, “I have to go, but I’ll call you on Thursday before we board ok?”

“Yep” You take the phone off speaker and put it back to your ear, your breath hitching in your throat when Carlos dips his head and starts kissing his way from your collar bone up to your throat and- “I’ll let you know what the doctor says, ok?”

“Ok.”

You have to bite your lip to keep from moaning when Carlos starts sucking on your skin, “Love you, Maxy.”

“Ik ook van jou.”

***

“You ready?” Carlos holds out his hand for you to take and when you step outside and grab onto him he laces his fingers in between yours. He won’t tell you where he’s taking you but he gave you a list of things to pack earlier and so there’s a large bag swung over your shoulder, filled with beach towels, some warm clothes, and a bottle of red wine. Carlos is wearing a backpack that looks like it’s stuffed to the brim with, what you’re not sure, leading you through the garden to a gate on the far end.

When you came back from your doctor’s appointment, happy because you are cleared to fly and because it seems like any side effects from the concussion have disappeared, Carlos was waiting for you in the kitchen, saying he wanted to do something fun but wouldn’t tell you what it is. And so here you are, not even thirty minutes later, walking down a narrow path in between some large pine trees. You wonder if he’s taking you to a private beach you think you heard him mention earlier, because it would explain the beach towels at least, but he still won’t tell.

The path dips down at some points, your quads getting a much needed workout after almost two weeks of not doing much of anything, except for some extracurricular activities that aren’t Carlos’ training schedule...

You have to watch where you’re going, loose rocks and tree roots making for natural obstacles that could easily break an ankle if you’re not careful, and so you don’t really see where you’re going until Carlos says, “We’re here,” and you look up again.

It’s beautiful.

There’s no beach, only rocks leading into the water, the small cove you find yourself in surrounded by pine trees and feeling very recluse. There’s a small wooden dock built onto the rocks and into the water, two boats tied to it and a third one anchored further away.

You don’t realise you’ve stopped walking to admire the view until Carlos gently tugs on your hand and makes you follow him to the boat on the right side of the dock. Letting him help you on board you keep your hand in his as the other settles on his chest to help you regain your balance, the waves crashing against the boat making it sway side to side a little.

“I figured we could go out to sea for a bit,” Carlos says with a grin before he dips his head and gives you a kiss. “Maybe do a bit of snorkelling?”

You brush your lips against his, “I’d like that.”

***

Feeling a little rosy, your cheeks burning from an afternoon out at sea, swimming, and snorkelling, and making out both in the water and on the boat, you watch Carlos as he sits on the edge of the deck. He’s got his cap on backwards, his arms resting on his pulled up knees, the low-hanging sun casting a golden glow over him while he’s enjoying a cold beer, and so you grab your phone and take a picture of him, wanting something to remember today by. He looks at you from over his shoulder and so you snap another picture.

Carlos gets up then and makes his way over to where you’re sitting, “You ready to head back, cariño?”

“Hmm,” you agree, tilting your head back so you can look at him. When he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead you close your eyes, enjoying these small tokens of affection. You watch him then as he makes his way to the side of the boat to pull up the anchor before you get up as well and follow him to the helm. You sit down on what you’ve dubbed the passenger’s seat but you’re sure has some sort of official name you don’t know, the boating terminology still a little lost on you.

The sea is quite calm, much calmer than it was earlier this afternoon, and it’s smooth sailing all around Cap d’es Pinar. You’re not sure if it’s because Carlos makes it look so easy or if you’re just looking for some fun but you really want to try your hand at steering the boat and so you turn to Carlos, “Will you teach me how to drive it?”

If he’s surprised at your question he doesn’t show it, “Of course.” He holds out one arm so you can step in between him and the steering wheel before he boxes you in, both hands on the wheel, “Put your hands on mine.”

“Ay ay, captain,” you tease, but still you do as you’re told.

He steps closer then, pressing against you as he puts his mouth to your ear, “You see that lighthouse straight ahead?” He waits until you nod before he continues, “That is where we are headed for now, ok? Try to keep that lined up with the middle of the bow.”

You nod again, swallowing hard because you can feel him press against your ass, the flimsy material of his swim shorts doing nothing to hide his growing erection, and so all of a sudden you’re a little distracted and a lot turned on.

Carlos acts as if he’s not already semi-hard and slides his hands from underneath yours so he can put them on top and correct you where necessary, “Do you feel what I’m doing?”

“Oh, I feel you alright,” you mutter quietly, not missing the way he freezes behind you, his fingers now hovering over yours. There’s a wicked grin tugging on the corner of your mouth when an idea starts to take shape and you pull your hands from under his and turn around in his arms.

“What-”

“You focus on taking us home, baby” you purr in his ear, letting the tip of your tongue run from his earlobe to the base of his neck before you suck on the skin there. When you pull back you look up at him and throw him a wink, “And I’ll take you here.”

“Oh Jesus,” Carlos breathes, his pupils blown wide now.

“Jesus can’t help you now,” you tell him with a wicked smile as you put your hands on his hips and push him backwards so you can sink to your knees and put your mouth on his shorts, letting your teeth scrape over the fabric as you run your mouth across the outline of his cock.

You take him cursing in Spanish as your cue to continue and start placing open-mouthed kisses just below his belly button as you let your hands run over his thighs and into his shorts before you pull them out again and hook your fingers under the elastic waistband, “Ready?”

He lets his lower lip run between his teeth but doesn’t say anything.

You stop what you’re doing and try again, your voice barely above a whisper when you ask, “You ready?”

He groans and whispers a quiet, “Mi perdición,” before he looks down and nods.

“Use your words,” you warn him, enjoying the way you’re in control this time. You blow against the wet spot your mouth has left on his shorts and feel yourself getting more and more turned on when he shivers in response.

“Yes, mami,” he breathes, biting his lip.

“Atta boy.” Sliding his shorts down in one swift motion you can feel your eyes grow wide when his cock springs free, a bead of precum already glistening at the tip. Licking your lips you spit into your hand before you wrap it around the base of his cock and slowly pump him a few times to get him all the way hard before you lean forward and run your tongue from the base to the tip, cleaning up the precum. You take him into your mouth slowly, enjoying the weight of him as he rests on your tongue and marvelling at how good he tastes.

You pull back a little then, only the tip of him inside your mouth, and put your hands on his hips, slowly, slowly taking in more of him as you slide down his cock until he hits the back of your throat and you have to try your hardest not to gag. It’s been a while since you- Reminding yourself to keep breathing through your nose, you try to relax your jaw some more, taking him in a little deeper when you do.

He combs the fingers of one hand through your hair then, keeping your head in place but never pushing you down, instead letting you set the pace.

You can tell he’s getting close from the way his breathing picks up and so you add your hands to the mix even more, one hand cupping his balls while the other follows your mouth up and down his shaft. You deep-throat him once, twice, squeezing your eyes shut when he fills you up, tears running down your cheeks because God- It’s almost too much, heat pooling between your legs now and so you clench your walls, trying to relieve some of the built-up tension but it does nothing, making you moan around his cock.

“Fuck, mami,” Carlos groans, adding a little pressure to the back of your head. “Taking me so well.”

Shit. This was about you taking charge but now it feels as if you’re slowly surrendering to him and so you pop off him without a warning and shake your head as you throw him a look, “No.” You can tell he’s at a loss for words and so you keep going, not wanting to lose the upper hand you seem to have regained, “You’re not calling the shots today, Sainz. I don’t want to hear another word out of you until I’ve made you come. Understood?”

Carlos starts to open his mouth to say something but then seems to think better of it and nods instead.

“Perfect,” you tell him before you purse your lips together again and press them against his tip, the head now red and angry-looking and when you push your mouth over it you have to suppress a moan. He’s close, the thick vein even thicker than before, and so you flatten your tongue and pick up the pace, knowing your own orgasm is not far away either.

He does as he’s told, keeps quiet and doesn’t push you down on him, but then you feel his fingers curl into your hair and feel him swell inside of you and-

You hollow your cheeks, take him almost all the way in and then keep him there, clenching your throat to help him chase his high. There’s a shiver running through him and he comes inside your mouth almost instantly, hot spurts shooting down your throat. It’s a lot and you can’t swallow all of it, collecting it on your tongue instead as he starts to pull back.

Carlos looks at you through hooded eyes when he pulls all the way out, his dick now limp and glistening in the sun, hanging heavy between his legs. He lets out a ragged breath and takes his hand out of your hair, cupping your cheek instead. You open your mouth almost automatically and show him the cum you’ve gathered there before you throw him a wink and swallow it all, making him groan.

You stand up then and kiss him, letting him taste himself as you lick into his mouth. When you pull back you grin up at him, “So good-” before you duck underneath his arm and sit down on the passenger’s seat again, ready to chase your own high. You’re still far away from shore enough for no one to see what you’re doing and so you put your feet up against the instrument panel and sneak your hand in between your legs and into your bikini bottoms, letting out a relieved sigh.

“Let me help you with that,” Carlos offers, his voice barely above a whisper and a little rough around the edges.

“No,” you shake your head. “You can put your shorts back on.”

He lets out a groan in protest but then lets go of the steering wheel anyway and tugs on his shorts, tucking his now soft dick inside.

“Oh fuck,” you curse quietly when you feel how wet you are, two fingers sliding inside with ease. You let out a ragged breath when you push your thumb against your clit, your eyes never leaving Carlos when you say, “I want you to watch me.”

He nods.

Grinding against your hand you arch your back a little, your fingers hitting the spot just right as you rub your clit in a way you know will get you there quickly.

And it does.

“Oh God,” you moan, feeling your walls clench around your fingers as your orgasm starts to hit. Letting your head fall backwards you start to pump in and out faster, your breathing picking up as you curl your fingers just right, thinking back on how Carlos felt on your tongue, his hot cum coating your throat, and-

“Oh, fuck,” you yell as your orgasm hits. You keep your fingers inside and ride it out with your eyes closed as you try to catch your breath. When you finally pull out you feel Carlos’ hand wrap around your wrist, bringing your hand to his mouth so he can lick your fingers clean.

You smile at him through hooded eyes, “Good boy.”

=====

Notes Intenta de nuevo = try again Sé que lo entiendes = I know you understand Más rapido = Go faster Mi novio = my boyfriend Mi perdición = My downfall

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#Carlos Sainz fanfic #Carlos Sainz x reader #F1 Fanfic #CS55 #Carlos Sainz jr #Harley Sunday x Carlos Sainz jr

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