#and i applied effects a bit more messily this time but it still looks good sooo here you go

[mintjeru]

"thank you for being a victim of my shallow emotions" kvthm x alnst bc i love pain

open for better quality | no reposts

[kaijukat-art]

Hello! I was wondering if you could a small tutorial on how you render your pieces?? They’re all super pretty btw!! I love your art :D!!

Ahh thank you sm!! <3 0: i’m not very good at explaining my process, and it changes depending on what I’m drawing as well, but I’ll try my best to explain it!

imma use the choso panel redraw since it’s a pretty simple portrait (done in Procreate, but most of this can be applied to CSP too)

once i’ve got a decently refined sketch, i fill in a basic starting skin colour for the character. i start some shading once i have a basic idea of where i want lighting. colour-wise, i usually go a bit darker & warmer for the first pass. (i use a brush that’s a basic airbrush settings but i replace the shape source with a reuleaux triangle) besides where shadows will fall, ill also focus on making the colour more dense on the ears, fingers, around the eyes, and sometimes the blush area. (also let it be known i use Liquify a lot, and constantly flip my canvas. as you render you’ll often start noticing lil adjustments that need to be done)

ill build up passes of colour, going darker & more saturated as i do. as the colours darken, they’ll be in the more receded/hidden areas of the face (like under brows, under chin, inner ear, unless the lighting calls for otherwise) in this case though, he’s also kinda beat up, so i added more colour under the eyes/on the cheekbones to add to the bruise vibes

for the nose/brow/shoulder highlights, i made a new layer & set it to Add. it’s a handy way to get a highlight colour and brighten your hot spots for lighting. this is usually when ill mess with the sketch/linework, sometimes i switch the layer mode to Multiply if i know i want to fully paint over it. in this case i think i just Alpha Locked the layer and painted in the hair/eyeliner since i wanted them darker. once the linework is thoroughly fukt with, i make a new layer and start painting over. usually involves a lot of colour picking & making some adjustments, playing around with levels of colour. I also swap between the reuleaux and a funky dense rectangle thing for rendering, sometimes little sketch pens for smaller details too.

(technically the blue-tinge reflective lighting wasn’t very accurate for the bg/scene colour i chose, but i got carried away and didn’t wanna change it lol)

hair rendering is fun sometimesssss. i make a new layer, choose a slightly brighter colour, and messily block in where i want the highlights. idk how else to explain it besides like, think about using H-adjacent shapes when you’re erasing/refining the highlights. for the last step, i make a new layer, set it to Add, and paint inside the highlights for the sharper look.

When it’s getting to a place i kinda like, (added some blood/cuts on this one before moving on) ill usually start messing with some overlay effects. this usually involves picking a random colour, filling in a new layer, and seeing how it lays over the piece. depending on the vibe im going for it can change a lot, but i find myself usually liking Exclusion & Subtract a lot. (sometimes ill throw a Noise + Overlay layer on top as well, but didn’t for this piece)

i hope that makes some sense??😭 im sorry if anything isn’t clear, i can try my best to answer specifics if needed.

it’s not my most thoroughly rendered portrait but it’s one i got a decent amount of wip screenshots for.. my style in general is still a wip, and i change it up a bit every time. i encourage experimentation always!!! it’s helped me a lot. i’ll see about making a more thorough tutorial for a properly rendered piece soon too!

[sugurugetofavoritemonkey]

Sleep Well (Toji x Reader)

✵ Pairing : Toji Fushiguro x Female Reader.

✵ Summary : Straight up smut with Toji who likes to give his girl a lot of orgasms.

✵ Word count : 1.3k

✵ Warnings : smut, choking, light face slapping, one pussy slap, overstimulation, spit kink, praising, Toji could be a warning cuz this man is hot as fuck, dumbification, squirting, creampie, aftercare.

✵ Note : Listen I don't know what is this thing, I just wanted to write for him cuz I'm having some writer's block at the moment and not feeling so good mentally but writing is the only thing that help me go through insomnia so here is the smuuuuut, keep in mind that I began to read the manga but I haven't read Toji's part yet so sorry if this is ooc.

and please give me some feedback🤲🏻

(did I mention his scar a lot cuz I find it very cute and maybe hot? yep)

ENJOY <3

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing?”

You two were at it for hours now, you don’t even know how many times he had made you cum with just his fingers, your mind too clouded with pure pleasure. 

Your limp body laid messily under his strong body, his gaze almost predatory when gazing down at you with hunger and maybe an ounce of fascination. 

“Look at the mess you’ve made, such a messy girl I have”, Toji let out a dark chuckle. 

A puddle of your cum had already made its way between your legs, on the sheets, on your thighs, everywhere. Toji knew your body oh too well, better than the back of his own hand, making you squirt with his fingers, round after round was easy for him, too easy you thought. 

When your eyes started to close from tiredness, your thighs falling flat to the bed, you heard his deep voice once again. 

“I want you to squirt on my cock this time, you think you can do it? Be a good girl for me huh?”

When you don’t have the strength to give him a proper answer, only whining at him, his palm drench in your cum comes to give two light slaps at your face, an attempt to bring you back to reality, Toji grabbing your cheeks with this same hand after doing so. 

“Answer me baby, or did I already fingered you so stupid that you forgot how to talk? How cute”, the scar in the corner of his mouth twitching as Toji can’t help but smile at your helpless state. 

“Yes, ‘m your good girl Toji”, you answer with a trembling voice. 

His free hand slaps your sore pussy with a sadistic smile on his face, hitting your swollen clit at the same time, and then rub gently at puffy lips to ease the pain when he feels your thighs clamp shut around his hand. 

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Then keep being a good girl for me and open those pretty legs”. 

You put your thighs back up and spread them a little so that his hand removes itself from your abused cunny. Toji also stops from pressing your cheeks together, on his way to remove his pants and take his dick in his left hand. 

He was so hard that you were asking yourself how a man could keep himself from cumming for that long, only a few drops of his white precum had begun to drip down his length. 

His voice had, again, bring you back from your daydream while you were staring at his own fist jerking himself before your eyes. 

“Wider”, but when you take too much time to his liking to move, Toji takes matters into his own hands, “Or so it seems that I need to help you with that too, my dumb baby”, his strong hands pushed your knees back against your chest until he has full access to your wet pussy, which is already clutching on nothing  just at the feeling of him dragging up and down his tip, collecting all your juices. 

“Nod for me if you’re ready”, he asks you while taking your chin between his fingers to make you look up at him, a smile still stretching his little scar.  

You barely have finished nodding that he’s already fully sheathed inside you. All the times you've already squirted helping more than enough to prevent you from the usual stretch that you would feel when Toji would fuck you. 

Even with this, you can feel him deep inside you, stretching your walls, hitting all the right spots, and all of this without moving an inch. 

When he finally feels you relaxing around him, Toji starts thrusting in and out of you, not bothering himself with a slow space, instead pushing even more your knees against your trembling chest with one hand in order to get deeper into you.  

His pace is quickening every second, the lewd noises of your pussy sucking him back in are echoing in your room, as well as your high pitched whines that are getting more and more pathetic the more you feel your umpteenth orgasm making its way inside your stomach. 

At this stage you can’t even keep your mouth shut, your tongue lolling out of it with drool coating a little your chin, a pretty opportunity for Toji. 

He lets his head fall down at your level and gather inside his mouth a bit of his saliva and spit some directly into your open mouth, pushing your jaw shut while whispering against your lips. 

“Swallow for me, my sweet girl”, and when he sees your throat gulping when you do, he can’t fight back a proud smile from making its way on his face. 

After that, his hips are moving faster against your own, Toji might have a good self control but he's still human after all, and his orgasm was approaching quickly.

Grunts and groans spilling from his open mouth, both of your faces so close to each other that the sounds he makes are barely out that they are almost immediately swallowed by your pretty parted mouth. 

When Toji feels you clenching impossibly tight around his girth, he knows how to make the knot in your stomach explode. His hand crept its way on your throat applying the good amount of pressure so that your airflow is effectively cut off, making your head dizzy from his tight grip, your loud moans dying in the pit of your throat. 

“Come on give it to me, I know you can, you’re my good girl after all, cum around me, make a mess of yourself one more time”, he whispers through gritting teeth while looking where you are both connected. 

His fingers pressing into your throat and his words have the perfect effect on you as he can see small droplets of your juices beginning to make their way out of you. The vice grip that your inner walls have on Toji’s dick make him also cum, not slowing down his thrust when you’re squirting on his lower body, his white seed mixing itself with your cum.

Toji stays deep inside you as you’re both still processing your powerful orgasms, holding his weight on top of you with one arm near your head while his other hand is brushing against your cheekbones to help you calm down. 

When after a moment he feels you gaining your breathing back to normal, and your eyes are starting to close themselves for good, Toji removes himself from you, not without making you let out a hiss at the unpleasant feeling between your legs. While he puts his pants back up, Toji can’t help but stare longingly at your abused cunt, drench in your own cum, with his white cum joining the mess between your legs. 

When he’s finished with himself, he takes your weak body in his arms, making you sit comfortably on his lap and putting a warm blanket on your shoulders. As a silent thank you, you press a soft kiss on the little scar on his lips, giving it a little kitten lick before putting your head on his warm chest. 

At the sweet gesture, Toji let out a small kind smile and start caressing your back under the thick cover, putting you to sleep, but when he feels your thighs trembling from the overstimulation, he talk to you tenderly. 

“Shh, I’m here, calm down, I’ve got you”, before pressing a last kiss on your temples. 

“Sleep Well Sweetheart”.

[rumblelibrary]

Okay one last one for now, but I offer a mix of age gap and breeding kink with modern Laszlo 👀

Basic Needs (Modern! Laszlo Kreizler x Fem!Reader)

(You know how to keep me happy and horny, thank you for sending this amazing request <3)

Smutty Smut ahead!

Laszlo looked at you as you talked to him, your hands slightly moving as your eyes were drifting every now and then to remember details.

This was supposed to be serious, you were an active collaborator of the institute. Even worse, a volunteer, somebody there for free just to help with the kids. You were young. Too young, amazingly, intoxicatingly young and even too good with the kids.

You were talking about some boy with an aggressive behaviour toward other kids, you were being serious and passionate, yet he was only thinking about what you mean for him.

“I don’t know how to help about him”

You admitted it a bit defeated as you looked down, you come often to talk, to unleash, sometimes hurting too much of yourself in the process.

“You do love kids don’t you?" He couldn’t help by ask.

You looked up and smiled widely

“Yes, I mean, I am applying to study child welfare, I just love to see them grow and express themselves and their little quirks”

He smiled as his eyes fell on your hips, imagining them shift to welcome a baby bump “And what about your own? Are you afraid? Many women are afraid of pregnancies and delivery”

You were surprised but shrugged “no, I mean, a little but it is supposed to be natural, no?”

He smirked “Completely natural”

You looked down as he saw some bitterness in you, some shadow over you.

“What is on your mind?”

“I don’t have the money to pay your fee doctor” you joked and he smirked 

“I will think of some payment, now tell me”

His answer was so well balanced and you giggled softly leaning your head on side as your toyed with a little hole on your jeans, he couldn’t help but notice you looked ravishing in the white shirt with the logo of the institute on it.

“I broke up with my boyfriend” you said it, it was quite dry the way it came out, but only because you couldn’t help it anymore, you probably cried too much about it already, you rolled over the thought over and over.

“I am sorry” he said even though he wasn’t sorry at all “there’s a reason?”

He looked at you as you frowned visibly and let out a sad chuckle while you tried to hide the pain “He said he is not ready for a serous relationship, that he is not ready and he wants to…to enjoy life and not settle down yet”

“He wasn’t for you then, you deserve somebody that would appreciate your gifts”

His answer was easy, like it was clear as sunlight, but you chuckled as it seemed a bit of a common thing to say “And what are my gifts then?”

Laszlo smiled without wincing at that incredulity from you “You’re what somebody would call a serious girl, a safe one, somebody faithful, family oriented, made for a long term relationship, responsibility, commitment. All qualities that I find remarkable, if not attractive”

You blushed as he said so and smiled a bit

“Am I?”

He nodded “Very remarkable”

He pushed his chair back and waited, he stared at you from behind his desk waiting, a soft smile playing over him.

Was he implying that?

You licked your lips slowly standing up, it wan’t a gesture meant to seduce, only due by tension. You always liked him, you couldn’t speak in front of him before because of the amount of emotion it caused you, how his darling attitude with kids moved something inside you that you couldn’t explain.

Innocent.

He just realised that little adjective escaped him when he enlisted those for you, but that was probably for the better.

He watched you moved around the desk standing in front of him, he left you there for a moment, he knew the effect he had on you, he saw you and he took pleasure from being your little fantasy. He got it form the little side looks and soft smirks, the eyeing up, the way you reacted to the smallest mention of sexual topics.

You stood there as his eyes seemed to scan your soul, he stood slowly up not breaking eye contact and he did what predators do best: he waited.

You didn’t last long, your hands not knowing how to behave slowly rested on his chest as you leaned on your toes for a kiss.

He kissed you and pulled back, you seemed disoriented as he lowered himself again kissing you one more time. His hand moved onto your clothing tugging onto the belt that secured your jeans on your waist, his fingers undoing it one handedly showing a skill he had to learn for himself but that felt incredibly hot for you.

“Look at you, you can’t wait”

He smirked as his lips moved onto your neck “You can touch me” he assured as you begun undoing his shirt.

It wasn’t your first time, you had clear in your mind how it worked, but something in him pulled something different inside you, another level of excitement.

Excitement that he didn’t miss when his hand slipped into your open jeans and panties earning a moan faster than he expected.

“You’re so ready for me”

He smirked as the notion pleased him, his fingers started tracing your little bud nicely and you could barely focus onto his shirt so you moved down to his pants. “You don’t have to”

He murmured it as you stopped not understanding and it was really hard to understand anything with his hand playing tricks on you like that.

“I want to please you, it is not a give and take” he assured as he knows how young boys act, like if they have to put the effort to touch you before fucking you then you should at least do the same in some way.

He kissed onto your lips slowly as you parted them finding his tongue, he was so apparently calm but completely overbearing, he could control you without even attempting for it.

“I-I..”

You couldn’t speak, his fingers massaging you so good until his thumb rested over your clit while his index and middle finger buried themselves in your soaked pussy, the jeans still tangled to your ankles making you hate them as you wiggled your hips , the pleasure frantically running behind you, catching up with you and Doctor Kreizler with no intention to let you go unpleased.

You jerked against his touch, you moaned messily as your legs trembled and you his your face against his shoulder, your backbone resting against the desk.

He gave you few moments, he let you go down your height as it washed over you like that, his lips slowly resting on top of your forehead.

“Help me now darling, you want to get naked for me?”

You nodded immediately as you pulled your clothes off, jeans finally off your figure, that tempting white shirt too.

You were soaked and still a bit dizzy, he waited for you expectedly, he stared with an adoring look.

“You want me, Liebing?”

You nodded at him”I do, I do”

He smirked as he finished your job of undoing his pants and setting free his hard on, you raised onto his desk as you parted your legs feeling his tip brush against your entrance teasingly.

“I don’t know about your ex, but this will hurt a little, I will fill you up so good”

In the mouth of anyone else this phrase would be laughable, but not coming from him. You believed him and you whined in pain as his large cock pushed inside you like that. The wetness of your previous orgasm helping but your sensitiveness making everything even better.

A soft curse left your lips, you shivered as he caressed your cheek kissing you again, he gave you a moment, he waited, never you felt like your pleasure and safeness came first like this.

“Now, le me show you”

You blinked at him as he started to thrust inside you, his left hand around your waist while the right one rested onto you thigh, his hips snapping deliciously inside you while his lips grazed onto your neck.

You grabbed onto his shoulders moaning, you were a proper moaning mess, he was feeling safe but also powerful.

You soon realised, among your pleasure, how you could never deny him anything, ever.

His left hand slowly leaving your waist pressing onto your lower abdomen, you whined as it was almost painful but bringing you a weird kind of pleasure.

“Look at you, so young, so flexible” he smirked as you just realised how your legs tangled around his waist brought by pleasure.

“I am going to fill you up, you’ll be so full of me” He murmured at you as a shiver came over you, the times you argued your boyfriend every time he was careless about cumming inside you or you had to do a night trip to a pharmacy.

“Will you knock me up?”

His smirk grew wider “I will my little liebing, I will make you round with my kids, you’ll a young mommy, so good, do not expect me to stop after one, I will give you many many more”

You couldn’t help it but think how this was such an amazing idea.

“Yes, please Laszlo”

“Call my name, what do you want?” “I want to have your children Laszlo”

He never stopped thrusting inside you, he hovered you, his presence overbearing as your pleasure was around the corner once more, your moans erratic as he begun to trust order in you.

You lost yourself into that orgasm once more, you shivered resting against him as another moan escaped you when he came in your body, he filled you up as he promised.

You looked at him blinking softly as your legs fell off his hips.

“You’re so beautiful”

You blushed as you shifted lightly

“Don’t move” he murmured and you blinked at him surprised “Let’s make sure it will work”

His hand on your clit once more, your hands holding tight the desk.

The night was still young.

[seiyasabi]

Baby Fever

(Here’s a Risotto x Female Reader x Melone  fic. I typically don’t write anything besides dark content lol, so sorry @risottosplug if this sucks ｡ﾟ(｡ﾉωヽ｡)ﾟ｡ Anywyas, happy b-day, queen :)) 

CW: Sex (ahaha), creampie!, DP!, Dom Daddy Ris, Papa Melone, light degradation!, breeding kink!, kinda pillow princess reader?, fucked dumb lol!, etc. )

“Can you take me farther down your throat, Princess?” Risotto’s deep voice echoes throughout your master bedroom, an open hand petting your head. Whining, you nod, trying to take more of his fat cock down your throat. Your other lover is currently lapping at you quivering pussy like a dog, making it harder for you to choke him down, because of your moaning and panting. His precum helps slick your throat, luckily only having a mild taste. 

He chuckles down at your attempts, heart warming at your cute expression and actions, “I know you can do it, pretty girl. You’re my pretty, little slut, such a good girl.” 

His words of praise make you work even harder, completely relaxing your throat, trying to ignore your white haired lover and his sinful ministration. 

Melone starts to lick and suck like a madman, trying to draw a reaction from you. 

Your red eyed lover ‘tuts’ at his action, “Don't be a brat, Melone. Keep acting like that, and the only thing our Princess will call you is ‘Pig,’ Not ‘Papa.’” 

He detaches his mouth from your drooling pussy, a pleading look on his face, “Don’t be like that, Daddy. I want to breed her pussy, too!” 

Risotto laughs at him, before dragging him up by his hair, and claiming his lips with his own. They messily make out over your form, tongues practically shoved down each other’s throats. Ris uses his hand on your head to force you up and down his length, causing you to choke and drool around him messily. 

Moving away from Melone with a smirk, he licks his lips tantalisingly, your teary eyes looking up at him in wonder, before he speaks, “Just wanted to taste our pretty girl on our pretty boy’s lips. You both taste wonderful.” 

Releasing his grip from your head, he allows you to remove yourself from his cock. Strings of drool connect you to his thick prick, as you take in deep breaths you were previously deprived of. 

“You did so Good, (First Name),” He kisses you tenderly on your puffy lips, “Are you ready for us to reward you?” 

You nod, a bright smile appearing on your face, “Yes please, Daddy! I want you and Papa to give me a baby!” 

At your words, his grip on the purple boxer clad man tightens, making him cry out in pleasure, “Your wish is our command, Princess,” He slams his lips onto yours once more, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth-which you submissively begin to suck. 

Risotto releases Melone in an instant, allowing him to come up behind you, and grope your ass and tits. The purple haired man leaves open mouthed kisses up and down your throat, sucking love bites onto your most sensitive spots, triggering keens to echo through your chest. 

One of the white haired man’s hands slide down to your pussy, ghosting over your clit, before stuffing three fingers into your tight, wet walls. You disconnect your lips to throw your head back in pleasure, effectively pushing yourself against Melone’s muscular chest. 

The purple haired man pinches and twists your nipples, relishing the way you gasp at both men’s ministrations, “You’re so precious, (First Name). Always so good for us,” Ris’ thumb rubs circles on your puffy clit, drawing especially loud moans from your mouth. 

“Daddy, Papa! I need you inside of me,” Risotto lightly pinches your clit, reminding you of your manners, “Please!” 

Both men shoot each other a pleased grin, before nodding in agreement, “If that’s what you want-” Melone begins. 

“-Then you shall receive,” Ris finishes, before the banged man pushes your body onto your more dominant counterpart. You hover over his hard cock, his one hand still playing with your dripping pussy, “Are you sure you don’t want Daddy to prepare you more?” He asks, suddenly serious. 

You shake your head, “No, Daddy, I like the stretch!” He nods, kissing you on your glossy lips, before removing his fingers from inside of you, and spreading your pussy lips with slick fingers. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” He nudges his cockhead into your hole, slowly forcing his fat dick into your gummy pussy. Your mouth falls open at the feeling, although you knew it was coming. 

It takes a few moments for him to bottom out, but when he does, the head of his cock nudges your cervix. A small bulge is seen through your tummy, causing Melone to push down on it. Moaning, you place your own hand on top of his. 

“Look what you’re doing to our sweet angel,” He coos gently, smirking up at the red-eyed man, “It’s a shame we’re going to ruin your pretty cunny, I’ve always loved how tiny it was.” 

At his words, you feel the slick head of his cock at your stretched opening, lightly pushing against Risotto’s. Melone’s cock is a bit skinnier, but a little longer than his counterpart. A flurry of light kisses are placed on your right shoulder, as the purple haired man hooks his arms under your thighs, “Is it okay if I come in, too? It wouldn’t be fair if Ris went first- the baby would only truly have the odds of being his,” You can practically hear him pout. 

Looking up at your more reserved lover, you see his serious look. Smiling up at him gently, You nod your head yes, “Yes, Papa, I’d like that very much.” 

There’s a moment of silence, as your more perverted lover starts to push his way inside of your already stuffed pussy. Mouth falling open at the feeling, a high pitched whine escapes your throat. Your white haired lover starts to circle your clit with his middle finger, trying to make it easier for you to take Melone’s long cock. 

You can hear your purple haired lover moan into your shoulder, relishing the feeling of your tight, wet cunny, along with the veins of Ris’ cock rubbing against the underside of his own. His prick slides in with a little resistance, before bumping into your cervix; he’s not fully inside of you, but your hot juices dripping down onto him is enough to sate him. 

Your chest heaves with deep breaths, as you try to stop yourself from clamping down as hard as you can. Both Stand users have a hard time not cumming there and then. 

“Fuck- you’re so tight,” Risoto muses, still playing with your puffy clit, “Are you ready, Pretty Girl? Want your Daddy and Papa to breed you full?” You fully lean back against Melone, a bleary eyed look on your pretty face. 

“Yes, please! I need you to give me a baby!” Hearing this, both men set to work. With the same fast pace, both men start to fuck up into your crammed cunny. 

Melone’s own hand finds its way to your clit, rubbing it with three slender fingers. He applies more pressure than your other lover, trying to milk you of an orgasm before he cums, “Come on, Precious, milk our cocks of our milk,” Your eyes roll back, as your tongue lolling out of your mouth in pleasure. 

“Please, please!” Your hips roll, trying to meet their brutal thrusts. Melone’s cock helps Risotto’s rub harshly against your g-spot, causing your spread thighs to shake. More moans and whines escape your throat, as you clamp down on them, and cum. 

Your walls knead them for everything they have, causing Ris to grunt with his entire chest, and Melone to practically scream. Both men simultaneously release, adding their own milk to your gushing release. Rivulets of all three of your cum drip down their cocks and down your thighs, splattering onto your black silk sheets. 

Both men watch in awe as you continue to gush, Melone having not stopped his fingers from rubbing your sensitive clit. Shameless noises escape your gaping mouth, as you try to grab the purple haired man’s wrist, “Pa-Papa, ‘m too sensitive!” 

Your words cause them both to grow hard almost immediately, a sinister smirk on both of their faces, “That’s alright, My Love. By the end of tonight, your stupid mind will be mush with pleasure! Doesn’t that sound nice?” Melone’s voice is light, yet lustful, as he starts to pinch at your clit, causing your hips to jolt and your pussy to spasm. More pitiful whines and keens come from your open mouth, which Risotto fills with two of his fingers. He holds your tongue in between the phalanges, loving how you drool and such them. 

“You want a baby, don’t you, Princess?” You nod your head dumbly, eyes unfocused, “Well, we have to fuck your stretched pussy until you’re round with our seed,” He moves his face right in front of yours, relishing your cute, fucked out look, “Tonight is going to be a long night.” 

They start to move their hips once more, bouncing your pliant form up and down, your conjoined juices flying onto everything around you. Your loud voice bounces off of your pristine walls, yet neither of them stop their breakneck pace. 

They doubt that you’ll be able to walk for the next week. 

[doingitforbokuto]

-> BOKUTO KOUTAROU X SUCCUBUS READER

-> part 3 of my succubus series

summary: Bokuto Koutarou was a very unique person - and just who you were looking for.

words: 1,435

warnings: unprotected sex, tiny bit of dirty talk, lowkey dom reader and sub Bokuto, overstimulation, handjob, ruined orgasm (?)

Bokuto Koutarou was a person with boundless energy. Some people may find him annoying because of it but to you, he was almost ideal. When you spotted him on his morning run he looked as big and strong as ever. The morning sun shone onto him, his sweat glistening, chest heaving with heavy breaths.

“Looks like you love cardio,“ you chimed from here you were sitting atop a wall surrounding his neighbour‘s lawn.

His eyes shot up at you, stopping in his tracks once he realised who he as dealing with - almost tripping over his own feet. His mouth opened slowly, no sound escaping him as he stared at you, eyes tracing over your wings, your horns, your face. You could tell that he was already hooked.

“I know something else that could get you to break a sweat.“

Leaning foward you gave him a better view not only of your horns but of your chest as well, his eyes trying not to focus on them too much. Butyou knew the effect your appearance had on people. First, the looked at your head, then your wings and finally, the rest of your barely clothed body. That was the whole point - and it was working.

“Do you want me to show you?“

As his eyes found yours, all he could say was: “... I have volleyball practice at nine.“

Maybe he was not right for you.

“But I‘m free tonight.“

Or maybe he was.

-

Bokuto knew how to make others happy. He had always been someone who was funny and caring, someone who knew how to give someone what they wanted and you made it very clear what you wanted. There was no way in hell that he would not deliver.

He whimpered into your ear as he pushed himself deeper inside of you, your warmth and your wetness almost pushing him over the edge right away. Pressing you further into the mattress he inhaled your scent. you were right, this as a good way to break a sweat. Distincly he could hear his mind wondering if you just smelled good or if your magic was messing with his mind the way he had hear succubi do but the second he heard the way your walls clenched around him, the wettness ever so evident, all other noise was cancelled out.

Both of you were a mess. Your legs were tangled with his arms, your own arms trying to find a way to hold him, grab him, nails digging into his back. He had your legs draped over his broad shoulders, his hands almost desperately roaming your body, squeezing your thighs, your butt, your sides, anywhere he could reach. The lines beteen your body and his began to blur. Your moans mixed, sweat dripped from his forehead onto your shoulder and neck, he moaned into your mouth hen he kissed you, his breath filling up your lungs.

“You feel so good,“ he moaned into your mouth, stuffing his tongue in before you could even think of a response.

His cock was dragging against your walls, making you feel the unbelievable stretch, your pussy barely able to accomodate his thickness. Making sure to hit your g-spot every time he continued fucking you, his pace unfaltering and unforgiving, the sound of his bed creaking underneath you audible even over your moans and whines, your horns banging into the heardboard, surely leaving their marks there. At least that way he would definitely remember you.

You could feel how close he was to cumming, his thrusts becoming more erratic and desperate, trying to grind his hips into you to still make sure you came with him. But you knew that he could give you even more.

Bokuto did not see your arms coming, hands pushing against his chest. Barely a second later he was on his back, chest heaving and shivering at the cold air hitting his now exposed crotch. Your juices mixed with messily applied lube was splattered across his abdomen, his messy thrusts sure had left their mark on him.

Bringing up your hand you started stroking him, making sure to twist your hand over his tip everytime you passed over it. All he needed to tip over the edge was your other hand coming up to ever so softly fondle his balls, laying hot and heavy in your palm. The overwhelming peasure was not something Bokuto had been expecting - his own hands shot up, grabbing your shoulders, his whole body curling in on itself, the exploding heat in his abdomen too much to handle for the poor man.

He moaned an whimpered, his hips bucking up helplessly into the air. But nothing changed, nothing helped him feel less overwhelmed. Your hand wrapped firmly around the base of his shaft - paired with some well timed magic - kept him from actually coming. Finally, you allowed him to calm down, his muscles relaxing but his cock still standing hard and proud between his legs, slapping against his abdomen with heavy twitches.

His chest heaved again. The air was buzzing around you, his energy basically streaming out of him with every breath. He was exhausted but you were excited. And he was far from finished, pleading eyes looking up at you, silently begging for you to do something about the painful erection between his legs.

Being a succubus came with its perks: the way your cunt sucks in almost any dick. The way your moans entrance people. The way you could use your tail to pin their hands down.

With them being held in place above his head all he could do now was keep looking up at you as you, mesmerized by the way your skin looking in his bedroom light, the way your chest looked as you fucked yourself onto his dick. All that he wanted to do was wrap his lips hardened nipples but just as he tried to move your hands pushed him down again, firmly planted on his pecks.

You were getting close to cumming yourself, rubbing your clit against him just right, bouncing on his cock just the way you liked it. Bokuto was close too - if his moans and his scrunched up face were anything to go by. His mouth was open, letting all kinds of pleasured sounds spill out shamelessly, his eyebrows were drawn together and his hair was sweaty and messy, no longer held in place by his hair gel. All that he needed was a little push and he would fall over the edge.

You decided to let your thumbs run over his hardened nipples. The reaction you got out of him was exactly what you had anticipated: first a moan, then his hips bucking up into you, fucking all of his cum as deep inside of you as possible.

After what felt like forever he calmed down, his poor, abused bed creaking under the weight of his hips falling bak down and settling into the soft mattress. The energy was still filling up the room, allowing you to take it all in. But you weren’t finished. This time, you were going to take ververything that you wanted, everything that he had to offer.

Tigthening the hold on his wrists you started grinding down onto his still hard dick even more. It felt like heaven. You were so full, filled up to the brim with his cock and his cum, kept securely in place, your wet hole sliding up and down his shaft was like music to you.

“Oh, Bo-“ you moaned, throwing your head back as you used his dick to get off. “I‘m so close.“

He could only whine in response. There was no way he was letting you go without making you cum first but the way your tight walls gripped his dick had him seeing stars. Every attempt to move his arms to help you move were futile as his wrists were still firmly held in place by your tail. All that he coulddo was buck up his hips desperately, trying to make you feel better.

It didn’t take long for you to tip over the edge as well, digging your hands into his sides, pressing down hard to get every inch of his fat cock inside of you.

All that was left after were two exhausted figures, panting and breathing, cum oozing out of you, down over his balls; cum, slick and sweat all mixing together, yet leaving both of you unbothered in your exhausted state.

If your experiences so far were anything to go by, you should definitely fuck volleyball players more often.

[liquorisce]

don't stop, said she

rating: E (nsfw, 18+ only)

pairing: eren x mikasa, snk

summary: ... He likes seeing her like this, spread out on the table in front of him, naked and breathless. (pwp)

a/n: this is written for eremikasmutweek2021 (on twitter), and really, its an excuse to a) indulge in horny EM and b)practice writing smut - this was the result of a 1h writing sprint

(ao3) / pt 2 / pt 3

He likes seeing her like this, spread out on the table in front of him, naked and breathless.

What he likes even more is her squirming, squirming under the restraints of the rope that ties her ankles to the legs of the table, pulling against the ties that restrain her wrists above her head.

She isn't used to being unable to do anything physically, and it wracks her nerves. She shows her discomfort (with her lack of control) by the way she struggles, hands pulling, breasts thrusting in the air, as her gray eyes watch him in anticipation and helplessness.

He's spent so many nights with her (with her body), lost in their passion, but he appreciates this new dynamic, this powerplay... likes watching the lines and curves that make up Mikasa Ackerman.

He watches the pretty flush rise on her neck as she attempts to raise herself and make eye contact. "This is a bit tighter than I imagined, Eren," -

There’s really no point to anything she might say, that she can't move, or that she’s frustrated, he can see it, and he enjoys it, so instead he cuts her off and says, “... Did I ask you to get up?”

“... I, I can’t see you from over here,” and it's true, she can't, because she's spread on her back on the wooden table, legs and arms firmly restrained, and even straining to look at him where he stands is a task.

“But I can see just fine.” He pauses, his eyes darkening as he traces a finger across the inside of her thighs (she shivers) “... and that’s all that matters, right?”

His fingers move almost carelessly, flitting across her folds. He's barely touched her, but he can feel her heat, her wetness, dripping down her legs. “... You’re leaking on to the table, Mikasa,” he smirks, green eyes clearly enjoying the embarrassment on her features. “... I’m gonna have to make you clean this up, later.”

He thrusts two fingers into her without warning. The honest, surprised, and ashamed cry that escapes her lips, makes his mouth water. He is torn between finishing this play, between enjoying the torment of the woman in front of him, completely at his mercy, and just giving in to the desire to consume those little pleas with his mouth.

He moves leisurely as she gasps, little broken cries of his name, setting a pace that was deep, but maddeningly slow. “... Open your mouth,” he murmurs, and he traces the two fingers that were inside her on her lips, and watches as her tongue peeks out of her own volition. She licks them shamelessly, and without deliberate sensuality (because Mikasa never needs to try) and he feels his breathing quicken.

He leans over and kisses her messily, despite himself, because he can’t help himself after the show that he’s witnessed, and he can taste the tang of her juices along with her passion. She kisses him desperately, because this is the most contact she’s had with him, and she wants more than just his fingers, she wants all of him, and she tries to tell him, with her mouth and her body. “Eren,” she gasps, attempting to press her bare breasts against him, “... take off your pants, please,” - and he squeezes, hard, “... I want to feel you.”

“... So greedy,” he murmurs, as he steps back from her and resumes his position at the end of the table. “But we agreed, didn’t we?” He spreads her legs further, appreciating the sight between her legs, “... it isn’t about what you want. And me... I just want to taste you.”

Her complaining settles down into a soft gasp, as Eren touches her with his tongue. First on the outer folds of her lips, and then inside, probing, tasting and licking. When he comes up for her air, she’s panting and the rope around her wrists have begun to mark her struggles.

(Despite her outward struggle, there's something about her own obedience, about pleasing eren, that pleases her)

He licks his lips, wiping away the mess she’s made on his face. “... Please,” she whines, and he takes a finger to press on her sensitive spot, applying the pressure he knows she likes.

“Please”, he mocks, “... What are you pleading for, Mikasa?” He doesn’t get an answer from her apart from incoherent panting, eyes shut, and head tilted back in pleasure.

Cruelly, he withdraws his fingers, knowing fully well the tell tale quiver of her thighs, the needy rasps of her voice were only signalling how close she was.

“... Eren,” she gasps, involuntary tears brimming at the corners of her eyes, at the loss of pressure (pleasure) from his fingers. “... Why did you s-stop,” -

“You didn’t answer me, Mikasa.”

Squirming, trying desperately to rub her thighs against each other for some friction (she forgets her restraints) she can barely recollect what he asked of her.

“I asked what you were pleading for,” he says, sounding completely displeased. “... I guess I shouldn’t take you seriously after all.”

“I’m sorry, Eren,” she whimpers, “please, come back.” because she’s losing her mind, she can’t see him, where he stands, but all she knows is that he’s impossibly far away.

“... Come back, where?”

He watches her hesitate, test her words carefully, “... where you were before… please.”

“... Hmm?.”

“... Where you were touching me, Eren… You know what I want…”

He's supposed to be the one in control, but it’s insane the effect a breathless, whimpering Mikasa has on him. He’s been straining within his pants for a while now, and on any other day, he would have shucked his pants off, and sheathed himself within her tight wetness hours ago.

And even though he does know what she wants, he knows it really well, he wants to test her limits, wants to test his own control, so he says firmly, “... You’ll have to spell it out for me, Mikasa.”

“... Touch me, Eren,” she sobs, gray eyes hazy and unfocused, “Touch my pussy, please.”

“Good girl,” he breathes harshly, “... You’ll get what you want.” and he does what she wants, what she likes, the circular motions on her clit that always manages to get her off… but only for the briefest moment. He thrusts his fingers into her again, because he cant help himself.

She cries out, desperately, his name or a meaningless plea to some god, he isn't sure, because he’s way too focused on just how easy it is to slip inside her by this point, how there isn't even any pretense anymore, because that’s how wet and dripping she is. For him.

He quickens the pace, setting a punishing rhythm this time, because he wants her to open completely for him, wants her to let go and feel nothing else but his fingers deep inside of her.

She doesn't take too long to cum on his fingers, noisily but prettily, her whole body shaking on the wooden dining table. He watches her quietly, enjoying the sight of her juices glistening down her pussy and her thighs.

When her panting settles into a more consistent rhythm of heavy breathing, he asks, dryly, “... enjoyed that, huh?” He’s still hard and wanting, but she’s probably sore, so fucking her would have to wait.

“... Mmm, untie me,” she murmurs, and as an afterthought, she adds, “... please.”

He chuckles, walking over to untie her wrists first, and then her ankles. She slips off the table awkwardly, and because she can barely find her balance, she stumbles into Eren’s arms, naked and sensitive. “... That was nice,” she mumbles, pulling him down for a kiss. She presses herself against him, against his chest, and running a hand against the length of his hardness.

Eren stills, catching her hand in his path. “... Distracted already? I was serious about you cleaning up the mess you made on the table.”

She colours immediately, “... I will, but don’t you want to…,” -

And oh boy, he wants to, but he keeps his firm expression and says, “... what I want, is for you to clean the table, Mikasa.” He leans down and brushes his lips against her sweetly.

“... with your tongue.”

a/n: welp, not my best, but im practicing. feel free to give me feedback!! i am having complicated emotions to my writing nowadays, it feels lacking, so i promise to take all comments constructively!

[ameliterature]

hey bestie no rush or anything but could you possibly write a chameron oneshot where they're doing each other's makeup and then simping for each other in makeup :)

Sure~! Here's a really quick One-shot of Chameron~!

"Charlie..." Cameron looks up at his roommate hesitantly. "I don't think I should do this... I mean, you a-and the others look better than me, I--"

"Cam, come on, I told Gloria ALL of us are doing this photoshoot. Loosen up a little, you look cute." Charlie tilts Cameron's chin to the side, adding a bit of eyeliner on his left eye.

Cameron's face turned warm, matching the hue of a rose despite not having any blush on him yet.

Charlie agreed to do this fun photoshoot where the women dressed up as men and the guys would wear make up. It was all pretty risque for Cameron, the concept of just wearing women's make up was foreign to him. Unlike Welton, Tina and Gloria's school allowed very experimental projects to be made for the sake of art.

Neil and Todd looked great, Cameron thought, he found it surprising that their features actually got enhanced by the make up.

Meeks and Pitts decided to do something more avant garde, painting their faces like a picasso painting or a van gogh to give it a more costume-y effect. Knox got help from Chris and Ginny, whoever did the best side of Knox's face got to borrow his tux for the photoshoot.

Then there was Charlie and Cameron. Cameron was very defiant about joining, worried his family would find out, worried the school would kick him out, or worse, that he'd be a laughing stock amongst his friends. Cameron only agreed if one person saw him in make up, if only one person saw him that way, that-- maybe, if that one person thought he looked good enough, then the rest would follow.

Charlie looked beautiful in his own makeup. It was messily done, obviously, since he didn't get help from any of the girls, but it was odd that he still looked pretty. Or at least, he did to Cameron.

"There. Done." Charlie held up a mirror to show Cameron his finished work. Surprisingly, it looked better than his own face, Cameron had a proper lined eye, his eye shadow matched him well and the blush was seamless.

"The only thing missing is the lipstick." Charlie rose his eyebrows at Cameron.

For certain, Cameron didn't want Charlie to add the lipstick on for him, so he offered to put it on himself.

"Here, after you put it on, I'll put it on me." Charlie hands Cameron a nice shade of rogue.

With shaky hands, Cameron held up the mirror and to messily add the lipstick. He couldn't focus because Charlie was looking right at him. With enough revision and tissue wipes, Cameron was able to make a simple cupid's bow for the top part of his lip, and an even curve for the bottom.

"H-how is it?" Cameron looks over the mirror to see Charlie just standing there. "W-what? Does it look bad??"

Charlie says nothing, he smirks, but he doesn't say anything.

"It-- It's stupid, I knew it, I'll just take it--" Before Cameron could finish his rant, Charlie grabs him by the sides of his face and gives him a peck on the lips. Their lips pressed against each other so perfectly, that when Charlie pulled away, Cameron's lipstick had transferred on to his lips.

"Ch-Charlie--"

"What? I told you I'd put it on me after you." Charlie takes the mirror to check his lips again. "See? It applied pretty well on me, dontcha' think?"

Cameron was too pressed for words, he wasn't angry, he wasn't annoyed that Charlie did that, he was just in shock.

"Come on, gorgeous, the others are outside. We have to take our photos before the sun sets!" Charlie held Cameron by his wrist, and it allowed him to pull him closer.

Cameron and Charlie exited the dressing room and joined the others. They excitedly rushed and complimented their make up skills.

"Oh my gosh, Charlie your lips look so cute!" Tina comments.

"Yeah, thanks. Cameron helped me with it." He smiled Cameron's way, making him turn away in embarrassment.

Cameron didn't need make up to be told he was pretty, but he liked that Charlie thought he was. It was also eventually evident that Charlie didn't need lipstick the next time he stole a kiss from Cameron that same night.

(Hope I did your prompt justice alkdjlkasjd I didn't know what context they'd have make up on so I thought it'd be cute if they broke the cistem lkasjdlkasjd)

[got-to-love-a-badboy]

Special Guest

Previous chapter ^^^

Chapter 8 - too much temptation

Jack Grealish x female character

After a cozy afternoon watching movies and eating snacks on the sofa Ellie decided it was time to get ready for their night out with Jacks friends.

She sat up on the couch, taking her weight off Jacks chest, looking back down at him he seemed disappointed that she had moved but she didn't say anything incase it was all in her head, "I think I'm going to head upstairs and get ready if that's ok?", she asked Jack, seen as it was his house she felt she needed perdition, "yeah, yeah sure, your right we need to make a move, we're meeting the lads in two hours, come on il get you a towel and show you how to work the shower".

The two made their way back upstairs and into Ellie's room, "so the towels are in the bottom drawer over there" Jack pointed to the large dresser at the bottom of the bed. Next he walked into the en-suite and into the shower, "just press this middle button twice to turn it on and twice again to turn it off, I won't do it now because I don't want to get wet", Jack laughed, "ah shame" Ellie answered back as she turned around to sit on the chair and take off her socks, Jack smiled at her and licked his lips, he couldn't help but think about how beautiful she was and how she made him feel like a silly teenager again.

After Jack left Ellie's room she hopped in shower, using her favourite Kilian shower gel that Jessica had bought her for her birthday, she used her good stuff so she smelled amazing for the special night out, she wanted to impress Jacks friends but most of all she wanted to be irresistible to Jack, she thought back to what Jessica had said and how her and Jack had agreed to take it slow but the tension around the two of them was getting too much for her to resist, she definitely would wait for Jack to make the first move so she knew it was what he wanted but a bit of harmless flirting and the odd kiss never hurt anyone, right?.

An hour later and Ellie was sat at the dresser applying her makeup, she decided on a very natural look, lots of nude and pale orange tones, making her eyes pop by applying mascara to her already flawless lashes and a bronze tone under her bottom lashes.

She went with a simple curled pony tail with curled bangs at the front of her face.

After putting on her dress and struggling with the zip for a good 10 minutes she finally decided to go ask Jack to zip it, she planned on making a big entrance and Jack been amazed by how beautiful she looked, but that wasn't to be.

Ellie headed to Jacks room to ask for his help, as she approached his door she felt herself getting really nervous even though she had been cuddling with him all day on the sofa, this was the effect he had on her.

Slowly she knocked on his door, it felt like an eternity before he opened it, Ellie's jaw dropped when he opened the door and she saw him stood in front of her in just his jeans, his bare chest screaming out to Ellie, his hair was flowing messily in front of his face as it dripped water down his chest, she must have been stood staring for a while because as soon as Jack spoke he snapped her out of her daze, "wow Ellie, you look gorgeous", Jack began looking Ellie up and down, she smiled looking up at him, before realising the reasons she came to his room, "thank you.....so I feel like a child, but.... Could you could zip me up please", Jack licked his lips before telling her "of course", Ellie turned around, she felt Jacks hand move her hair, his finger tips traced her neck as he gathered her hair, it send a shiver through her body, causing her to take a deep breath, then Jack gently placed one of his hands on her hip and the other did up the zip.

Once he had finished he placed her hair back and spun her around, "you really do look amazing Ellie, I'm not sure I want to share you with my friends now", Ellie blushed at Jack's flirtatious side, "but then you wouldn't see me dancing after a few drinks", Elle said back as she tilted her head to the side and leant her hand against Jacks door, "ok now that is something I need to see, you coming in while I finish getting ready?", Jack moved aside for Ellie to come in, "yeah sure".

Ellie walked in and sat on the edge of Jacks bed as he paced around the room, putting the finishing touches to his outfit, a crisp white T-shirt, combing and styling his hair and applying aftershave, Ellie watched the man in front of her in amazement, she still couldn't believe she was here, with him, but god was she grateful, she didn't see him as Jack Grealish the footballer anymore, he was so much more than that and she secretly hoped what ever this was, continued to blossom, but with the on and off distance that Jack was putting in place she had no clue.

Finlay Jack came and sat next to Ellie on the bed to put his shoes on, as he leaned forward to reach his feet his head came closer to Ellie's legs, he was so tempted to run his hand down her leg but he knew they would never make it to the restaurant, he had to try keep some distance, the feelings he was feeling would take over if he didn't try keep them at bay, if it was up to him he would spend every waking minute with her, he would do all the wicked things he wanted to do but they would never leave the bedroom.

He managed to restrain himself and just put his shoes on, he then stood up, "well Grealish I think I know what I want for dinner" Ellie said as she stood up directly in front of him, he put his hands on her hips and hers automatically went around his neck, "oh yea, what's that?", Ellie smirked at him, she needed a smart comeback. "Is England's number 7 on the menu?", Jack laughed as he pulled her closer, placing a soft kiss to her lips, "if you play your cards right".

They finally made their way down the stairs when Ellie pulled her phone out, "selfie first",  she placed her phone on the table and set the timer, "smile for me Grealish", he stood behind her and the pair posed until the phone clicked.

"Let me see." Jack called eagerly, causing Ellie to laugh, "aww it's cute!, nearly as cute as the wedding one", Jack put his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder, "any picture with you in it is cute princess", she loved it when he called her princess, "I won't post it though, the press will go crazy for you" Ellie said, Jack just gave her an appreciative kiss to the temple.

"Come on the cars probably waiting outside" Jack told Ellie as he grabbed her hand and lead her down the stairs.

(The picture)

[ducktales-wco-oo]

[SteelBush] "Memories of Sorrow"  - ✩ { @aflockoffeathers​​ } ✩

✩ { Meme​ } ✩

{ ☆ } He can’t help but feel... bad. About what happened to Steel- Chanticleer’s chickens, about fading away before he could console the distraught child, about going into that memory in the first place— maybe it would have been better for Steelbeak to discover the chickens alone, not having to endure the loss of his dear friends AND a brand new one within mere minutes of each other —and for not being able to offer much aside from soft kisses against the top of Steel’s head and vine-arms wrapping tightly around him in return.

Some time passes like this, Reggie wracking his brain for something that might lift his boyfriend’s mood. Might help take Steel away from the horrible memory he’d accidentally caused the rooster to relive, spirit him from the terrible thunderstorm that relentlessly rages on... and then it hits him. Lightbulb practically appearing above his head, he nervously smiles down at Steel and tentatively asks, “Hey... Uh, Steely?” Or can he call him Chanticleer now? ... Chanti? That’s a question best left ‘til later. "Do you... still want to see li’l Bushie?”

… 

It takes a bit of reassuring that he’s perfectly fine with Steelbeak going into his memories, more or less. Reggie waving his hand dismissively and barking out an awkward laugh at the thought that he WOULDN’T want Steel to... observe his past... at a random point in time... possibly altering the future and destroying the happiest and healthiest relationship he’s ever been in. Okay. It takes a bit of convincing, a smidge of his temper, and unfairly effective puppy-dog eyes— paired with leafy hands cupping the rooster’s cheeks, the tip of his beak touching Steel’s as he elaborates on how it’s ‘not fair’ if they don’t use the machine ONE more time —before the troublesome chips are finally back on their hands.

Albeit, switched... 

With a deep, shuddery breath, that poses some concerns, he prepares for Steel to witness something from his past. Whatever it is, he can only hope that it’s as mundane and non-humiliating as possible. Good luck. Noticing the other male’s mouth start to open, worry abundant in amber hues, he quickly acts before Steelbeak has a chance to call it off. Rushing forward, beak presses against his boyfriend’s in a slightly-panicked kiss, as if it is the last one they get to share. Depending on what memory Steel finds, it very well might be...

… ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ … ✩ …

The house is big... REALLY big. Surprisingly so, considering the financial trouble Bushroot always seems to be in. Even before the incident that transformed him, the male was heavily dependent on the money of others. Which doesn’t bode well for any familial relations he might have towards whoever lives in the manor—well-maintained, except for a few cracks along the walls and an overgrown yard that stretches out toward the edge of a forest. It’s a secluded place that seems as if it would be rather peaceful to live... if not for the echoing of loud children from within the high walls. Strange... Reggie never mentioned siblings.

But Steel doesn’t have time to ponder the scene or the strangers within, because trekking along outside of the house towards the deep woodland, is the reason for his visit.

Head darting from side to side, as if wanting to make sure he isn’t being followed, a duckling scampers through the tall grass. Unfortunately, he’s not all too observant because Steel is able to follow with comical ease. Despite not being part-plant, those bright royal blue hues are proof enough of who the child is. But even if that wasn’t, a familiar mop of hair is atop his head. No longer lavender, but shaggy and tuft-like all the same, thick ebony locks that messily bob along as he nearly slips on the dewdrop covered ground. From the thick scent of lingering rain in the air and the muddiness of their journey— the duckling slipping and sliding, but miraculously not falling yet —it seems like a storm has just passed.

The journey continues for a few moments before nature finally sends the duckling tumbling to the ground. Tripping on an upturned root, a startled quack escapes the boy before he is violently rolling along the ground into a nearby tree. With a heavy thud and a pathetic whimper, the boy lays flat on the ground, beak quivering and eyes groggily fluttering... before they suddenly snap open wide, surprise evident in them at the sight of a hand offering to help him up. Gaze raises to look at the stranger, a loud gasp escaping the duckling as he shakily quickly accepts the hand and stands up. Frantically dusting himself off and running his hands through his disheveled locks, he then abruptly straightens his posture. 

Shoulders tense and arms stiff at his sides, chest puffs out as the diminutive boy tries to make himself seem taller, bigger, more impressive. Gazing up with wide eyes, beak is slightly agape at the other’s fancy attire and well-groomed feathers... Rich. This guy HAS to be rich. Not that it matters; he could be poor as dirt and Reggie would still be ecstatic a the sight of a visitor. Shaking his head when he realizes that he is staring, pale white cheeks flush with embarrassment, soft down feathers fluffing to impossible size as he quickly extends his hand to shake the adult’s, “H-Hello, sir! My name is Reginald! Reginald Bushroot!”

Voice is small and squeaky with nerves, but he pushes through, still anxiously bobbing the stranger’s hand up and down as he speaks, “I’m ten years old, don’t have any pre-existing medical conditions, have straight A’s, and once went an entire week without making a single sound!” Words pour out in a rush, yet are well-rehearsed, as if he’s used to giving this spiel, “So you wouldn’t have to worry about me annoying you or even causing ANY trouble at all! I can cook and clean and don’t even need toys or anything!” It’s not as if he has many of them NOW anyway. “Just tell me whatever kind of son you want, and I can be it, Sir!” 

Reggie doesn’t seem to notice the stranger’s blatant surprise, looking in the direction of the woods. “Do you... Do you like plants?” He timidly asks, shyly smiling upward. At the slow nod, concern in amber hues going unheeded, his smile grows bigger. Excitement shining in blue hues and smile bright, Reggie leads him toward the treeline, hand tightly grasping his. He only spends a moment to ask for a name— “Steelbeak? I guess that makes sense...” —before rambling on about how the rain was wonderful for the plants and how he really likes the way the earth smells after a storm and hey, do you want to know the scientific name for that flower? Or that one? ... How many kids are you thinking of adopting anyway?

Reggie thinks that Steelbeak should only take one home.

Well, that explains the surplus of children inside. From looking at the duckling, it’s clear that he’s one in a long line of kids who need to be taken adopted. With clothes that are a smidge too big on his lean frame, blatantly boasting hand-me-down, and feathers that look like they haven’t been properly preened in weeks, Reggie is far from being anyone’s priority. Perhaps that’s why he’s so quick to cling to the stranger he JUST met, to the slim chance of getting a home. A family. Small as it may be, even one person is more than he has right now. 

Scampering towards the edge of the woodlands, Reggie’s excited ramblings— he wasn’t kidding when he said he could be whatever kind of son Steel wanted, noisy or quiet —finally draw to an end as they approach thick bushes. Although, a spot near the front seems to be more man-made than natural, fallen branches and leaves having been dragged and gathered to one spot. Releasing Steel’s hand, Reggie grunts with effort as he shuffles some of the meticulously strewn branches to the side, revealing a divet in the ground between some thickets where a vibrant flower is tentatively sprouting from the dirt.

But this plant is... strange. It looks like an amalgamation of a couple flowers; rose petals that hang like bluebells colored a mixture of warm and cool hues. A painstaking creation of Reggie’s, if the look he gives them is any indication. Blue hues sparkling with pride, he bends onto his knees to better look at the flowers, “I call her Rosebells... You wouldn’t believe how long it took to get actual results. First I had to-” Explanation is sadly cut short, the sound of scampering feet suddenly cutting through the serene air. Dozens and dozens of them trampling through the underbrush and destroying all in their path... “Oh no. They’re coming.” 

Scrambling onto his feet, Reggie frantically starts shoving Steelbeak into the thick foliage, ignoring his protests and the way his silk suit is ripped and soiled by branches. “Shhhhhhh! Just- Just shush, please!” Surprisingly, the stranger falls silent without further begging... Maybe it’s the way his eyes had started to fill with tears, or the way his voice had cracked with fear panic. Either way, Reggie doesn’t question it. He just hurriedly explains, “Whatever you do, don’t make any noise! I don’t want them knowing you’re here, or else they’ll never leave you alone.” Reggie will get shoved to the side. Ignored... Just like always.

“HEY, VEG-HEAD!” ... When he isn’t being tormented, at least. 

Yelping, Reggie spins around to face the swarm of newcomers. A hoarde of children, with ill-fitting clothes and mussed feathers, some having dirt-stained faces, others poorly applied make-up, all with cruel smiles or scowls... Swallowing a lump in his throat, Reggie’s hands begin to fidget— a habit he doesn’t grow out of —as he pitifully says, “I-I told you guys, I don’t like being called that.” It might have been considered brave, talking back like that, if the small duckling didn’t immediately flinch and cower when someone stepped forward.

Wide-eyed as the leader of the group approaches, Reggie stumbles backward in an attempt to keep distance between them. Unfortunately, he’s trapped between the children and the forest. Frankly, he’d take his chances in the woods, and is ready to do so. But even NATURE can’t be completely kind to him, and with a pathetic squeak— covering his face as the larger boy raises a fist, the crowd jeering behind him —he trips on an upturned root and plops onto his side next to his precious Rosebell. Maybe it wouldn’t have been as bad if he hadn’t scrambled onto his knees, frantically checking to see if the flower was harmed.

In mere moments, he’d HATE himself for that.

Reggie doesn’t even hear the other boy approach, too focused on his flower. It isn’t until he’s roughly yanked upright by the back of his shirt, tossed into the crowd where two kids latch onto his arms and hold him still, that he realizes what’s happening. What he’s done. What the leader is going to do... and he can’t do anything about it. But God, does he try. Struggling against the arms holding him— like how Steelbeak struggles against the branches he’s entangled in, clawing at his arms and snagging in his clothes, as if the plants know that this NEEDS to happen... —Reggie desperately flails and fights, panicked tears brimming in his eyes as the other kid nears the plant. “N-No! What- What are you doing?” 

Meeting Reggie’s gaze, a finger slowly taps against the flower’s petals, “What’s the matter, Veggie? You look upset~” Fingers slowly grasp a petal... and yank.

Reggie can practically hear the flower scream. “Hey! Don’t do that!” He struggles harder, wincing as the grips on his arms grow tighter, bruising his fragile limbs and causing tears to stream freely down his face. But he keeps wriggling, crying out, “You’re hurting her!” Kicking at one of their legs, the small boy is merely lifted up, feet dangling uselessly above the ground as he struggles. “STOP IT!” Another petal. “STOOOOOOP!” And another. A cruel pattern that continues for a few seconds, Reggie’s cries going unheeded, near drowned out by the laughter of the children around him. Enjoying the show... Passing the time, distracting themselves from the fact that each unchanging day is blending into the next.

“You really are pathetic. Y’know?” The boy muses, fingers slowly curling around the mangled flower’s stem as he muses, “You actually care about this dumb weed. I mean- You called it a HER! How messed up is that?!” He laughs, a cruel, mocking sound as he looks at the tear-stained and hoarse boy, “What, is this your girlfriend or something? You gonna start smooching flowers now, Bushbrain? Funny... I always thought you were a pansy.” Bursting out into a fit of laughter, body abruptly grows still at a bitter, murmured statement.  

“At least I can spell pansy...” 

Immediately, Reggie grows still, breath hitching and eyes wide as he feels his heart stall. “I- I didn’t mean it.” Feathers ruffle as the hold around Rosebell tightens, the other boy’s knuckles turning white as his gaze burns with notorious fire. “Are you calling me stupid?” Growing paler, Reggie frantically shakes his head, voice trembling like his form, “N-No! I’d- No, I’d never dream of- I- I was just... Y-You- I...” What has he done? “I’ll show you stupid...” The other boy’s eyes narrow, movements quick and cold... as he RIPS the flower straight from the ground. With a snarl, he stalks over and shoves the flower in Reggie’s face.

“THIS is stupid!” Flower is harshly shaken in front of Reggie’s face; the diminutive boy looking horrified, as if a corpse is being waved around. “All your dumb plants and your lame facts and how you actually think anyone could CARE about this crap! About YOU!” Flower is savagely torn to shreds, petals and stem flung to the ground in front of them as he spats out, “Well, gues what, Veg-Head?! No. One. EVER. WILL!” To emphasize his point, a fist is rammed into Reggie’s stomach. The duckling cries out in pain, drowning out the sound of Steel’s suit ripping, the rooster finally being set free- before everything fades away.

And he’s back in the penthouse...

Trembling, face is streaked with droplets as Reggie pulls away, everything that happened seeming to have transpired during that single kiss. Sniffling, he quickly starts wiping at his eyes, desperately trying to stop the flow of tears and steady his pounding heart. He feels sick... He can still feel the punches, can see his flower- his first friend torn apart in front of him, can hear the ‘non-existent’ screams, can hear his own... can remember thinking that they were all right. But they WEREN’T. Steel is here with him now, he cares... He cares. 

He cares, he cares, he cares... HE KNOWS HE DOES, SO WHY DOES IT SOUND STUPID IN HIS HEAD RIGHT NOW? Reggie doesn’t remember rushing into Steelbeak’s embrace; wrapping his arms around him and burying his face against his chest. But he is, sobbing against it and feeling even weaker than he did that day. Pathetic. { ☆ }

[yastaghr]

Kinktober 2019: Day 10

Pairing: SansPapyTon (Mettaton/Sans/Papyrus)

Kinks: Bondage, Shibari, Ribons, Anal sex, Birthday sex, restraints

Warnings: Fontcest

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20851682/chapters/49913537

Mettaton stood with his weight on his left hip. He had a long blue ribbon in his right hand. He was contemplating where to put it next.

Sans was laid out on the bed. He was naked, apart from the ribbons. Pink, orange, and black ones criss-crossed his ribs and spine. A set of fur-lined cuffs tethered his hands to the center of the headboard above him and his feet to either side of the footboard.

“maybe you could bind my arms with a column tie? he really likes those,” Sans suggested.

Mettaton beamed at him. “Thank you for the suggestion, darling. This won’t take but a moment.”

The robot started weaving the ribbon around and between Sans’ radii and ulnae. The final effect was of blue waves undulating up the lengths of his arms. Mettaton couldn’t help but run a finger up the ribbon. Sans shuddered and bit back a moan.

“Don’t worry, adorable. Papyrus will be back soon. Just relax and think sexy thoughts. Yes, sexy, sexy thoughts.”

Sans gave him a disparaging look. “if i start thinking thoughts like that i’ll ruin all your hard work before pap gets back.”

“YOU’LL DO WHAT BEFORE I GET BACK?”

Mettaton turned to see Papyrus standing in the doorway. He was dressed in his work clothes, a simple grey suit that Mettaton itched to burn. It did absolutely nothing to flatter Papyrus’ figure. Luckily that wasn’t going to be a problem much longer. Mettaton’s gift to him this birthday was several hand-tailored suits.

Sans chuckled nervously and winked. “i was, you know, worried that i was going to stain all these ribbons with my precum. it would be a shame to ruin all of metta’s hard work.”

Papyrus closed the distance between him and the bed. His hands reached out to trace the path of every ribbon. They criss-crossed Sans’ chest in a lovely diamond pattern. “IT CERTAINLY WOULD BE A SHAME. YOU LOOK SO PRETTY, SANS. I LOVE THE COLORS, AND THE COLUMN TIE IS JUST PERFECT. IS ALL THIS BECAUSE OF MY BIRTHDAY?”

“Yes, darling,” Mettaton said with a smile. “There’s presents for you later, of course. We just thought this would be a nice way to kick off the celebrations.”

Papyrus slowly undid the finishing knot of the first ribbon. It was the orange one, and it made up 2/3 of the right leaning diagonals. “IT CERTAINLY IS A GIFT WORTHY OF THE GREAT PAPYRUS, NYEH HEH HEH!”

Sans moaned as the ribbon was gently slid out of the pattern over his chest.

Mettaton leapt up on the bed behind Sans and gently massaged the smaller skeleton’s shoulders.  “Enjoying yourself, Sans?”

Another moan quickly answered his question. Papyrus had moved on to the second ribbon, the black one, which made up 1/3 of the diagonals on either side of Sans’ skull. He pulled it out slowly and savored every noise that Sans made. Moans, groans, and pants filled the quiet room. Papyrus and Mettaton had the biggest smiles on their faces. They loved it when Sans got vocal.

Finally Papyrus moved on to the last ribbon that Sans’ chest had sported. It soon slithered to the floor. Once his chest was clear, Papyrus began to mess with every sensitive spot he knew. Sans dick and ass quickly popped into position. His chubby ecto-body extended all the way from his lowest ribs to his knees.

“GOOD BOY, SANS. SO PRETTY FOR ME. METTATON, WOULD YOU MIND PASSING ME THAT PURPLE TUBE FROM THE BEDSIDE TABLE’S DRAWER? THANK YOU.”

Papyrus lovingly applied the lube to Sans’ asshole. The tent in his own pants was growing by the minute. Sans’ erection was, too. Mettaton reached down with one hand and started messily jerking Sans off. The precum was spilling out of his dick by the time Papyrus considered his asshole sufficiently stretched and prepped. Pap quickly shed his suit, leaving him in a white t-shirt and MTT brand boxers. He slid down the waistband to reveal his thin, long, orange dick.

“I’M GOING TO PUT IT IN NOW, SANS. IS THAT OKAY?” Papyrus asked.

Sans shifted in his cuffs until he was slightly more comfortable. Then he smiled a saucy smile at Papyrus. “i’m ready, bro. push on in me.”

Papyrus slowly pressed into Sans’ ass. They both moaned. Mettaton happily braced his smallest lover and held him still. The gentle pressure turned into shallow thrusts that buried Papyrus ever deeper into Sans’ back passage. Eventually he was sunk in up to the root. He stayed there, panting, for a good two minutes while they both adjusted.

“I’M GOING TO GO HARD, SANS. ALL THIS ANTICIPATION IS GETTING TO ME. ARE YOU READY FOR THAT?”

Sans nodded, his eye lights showcasing his lazy excitement. “go ahead, bro. lay it on me.”

Papyrus groaned and eyed him. Then he slammed into a brutal pace. Sans’ eyes went wide, as did his mouth. His spine arched; his hands and feet strained against the cuffs. Then he cried out. His dick let out a small stream of cum that coated his chubby ecto-body in debauchery.

His brother was close behind. Papyrus’ even thrusts stuttered, then ceased with him buried inside Sans. He held him tight for a while. Mettaton removed their smaller lover from his bondage. Then they all three laid together while the bone-brothers recovered enough to continue with the celebrations of the night.

[roxannepolice]

But yah rey as a character is just so frustrating you know? Cause like, yeah sure she could be complex with a powerful arc where shes forced to come to terms with the fact she wasted years of her life on self-imposed delusions in a cathartic way, or she could be a flat piece of marketing cardboard which Disney is banking on vagina+superpowers=profit without having to go through that persnicty character flaw overcoming or the like. Because like you said, hearing shes a nobody (which ngl, her assuming she was a somebody wasn’t really ever supported in tfa, just that her family was coming back and she desperately wanted them to) is apparently the worst thing but it changes absolutely nothing, not her approach, not her demeanor , if vaguely sad is the absolute worse a character is gonna experience in a goddamn space opera then yeah, full offense ill take the l on Mary sue discourse but her character will definitely be a boring ass wash. We all make fun of whiny new hope Luke but him being a kinda nuisance to both the audience and those around him is what made is transformation into full blown Jedi knight so powerful. With Rey so far what weve got is badass perfect cinnamon roll finally get her due as such, which is clearly working for some people, but I fail to see how that isn’t spectacularly tone deaf to make a protag in this genre such. Operas about drama, not patting you on the back. Rey (assuming she remains as is) would’ve been fine as a protag s the only piece of Star Wars media we ever got was a new hope. But rn she a chosen one architype (and I know that bunch of ppl are gonna go but the series ‘but shes not the chosen one, Anakin still is, the new series isn’t trying to make her one!’ but lets not beat around the burning bush, if u got a character that walks on water and the reason why is because god said so, ur dealing with a chosen one trope and if a character is star wars is made ultrapowerful in lore breaking ways because force said so? Yeah were dealing with a chosen one.) when we had both the deconstruction and the reconstruction done. Shes a straight hero when the success of the ot rest on hitting the formula near perfect the first time. What exactly is Rey, the individual character, bringing to the table? What makes her story supposedly so important the a perfectly good ending had to be made invalid to tell it? A bunch of ppl will say heroines’ journey! But if that’s the case I gotta say, wheres all the feminine shit? Im serious, if the heroines journey is reintegrating the feminine and realizing ‘oh shit mom had a point’ there where is both the feminine skills/coping mechanism and the mom? I mean I saw some ppl arguing for leia in a ‘reys Persephone!’ meta (she isn’t, you can make a much better case for ben himself as Persephone to be quite frank, yall are focusing so much on the trees ((girl gets abducted by guy)) that u forgot the forest existed, the actually story ((girl winds up queen on the underworld, well gee whiz which character just took control of that after leaving the world of living and a grieving divine mother behind, it’s a mystery apparently) behind, it’s a mystery apparently) ((but seriously though even if we hope for dark rey does anyone assume its gonna be taking control of a dark/dead coded org at least partially at this point, do you, do you really??). but given the fact she had what, one line of screen dialogue that’s breaking ur arm with that stretch. As far as skills go I guess you could make an argument for scavenging, but if that’s the case dlf did a shit job of conveying that as female-coded. Everything about rey in tfa seems deliberately androgynous, and yeah, she had her hair let down/mascara moment, but that’s tied to her ‘failure’ on the supremacy thus something nw.SPEAKIGN OF FAILURES ON THE SUPERAMCY AND LACK THERE OF. I find it kind funny that bunch of reylo bnfs (you know who they are) are all ‘hur dur fanboys/antis are dumb and don’t get story structure.’ And then going, ‘why are yall asking how/assuming rey fucked up in throne room/climax of her story in the second portion/darkest point of her character arc? Why do you hate women/ur own ovaries so much?’ because it like walking into a prefurnished house and being told by the relator ‘HERES THE LIVING ROOM’ and having no damn couch. It’s a living room, I expect a couch here. And in a movie where it’s the low point of a character arc and they drag puppet yoda out to tell me the movie is about failure, I expect a damn failure in whats clearly the climax of the characters arc for this movie. As it stands now there are three possibilities imo. 1st, rey had no failure, she is the pure badass maid o light ppl want and every inch the boring cardboard she is accused of by fanbros, remains static, and is relegated to an also ran to benlo taking the most compelling character trophy this trilogy in 10 yrs2nd possibility and the one im hoping for, failure speech wasn’t just thematic explanation but also foreshadowing, rey fucks up big and dramatic in a way that makes her manage to stand out as unique with both her contemporaries and her predecessors(last part, if its ever to much lemme know pls im sorry i just gotta get it out) 3rd and most likely possibility, rey isn’t the main character, benlo is and that’s why his failure both moral in the throne room and logistic on criat take center stage for the last third or so of the movie. Rey is merely a pov character to tell the dramatic villain protag story they wanted and have their very marketable unproblematic Disney heroine cake too.

Ok, so this discourse kinda died down by now, but thanks to that it’s possible to maybe have a calmer look at it I’m totally not trying to justify my late response.

Anyway, the good result is that quite recently my brother, who’s not overly taken with Rey - or the sequels in general, for that matter - said something which really stuck with me as a possible crux of the problem: 

She’s neither comical nor tragical. Just bland. 

This neither comical nor tragical really struck me. And the more I though about it, the more it was appearing to me that this qualm really applies to the sequels as a whole. The thing is that DLF are essentially telling a straightforward story that they’re trying to make captivatingly convoluted. And not just make, but keep this appearance over four years. And this is... a narrative teeth crasher. Like, when you’re honest about the endgame (in the context of the most structural meanings of comedy and tragedy), you can maintain a decorum, though you can also play with it, of course, whereas when you don’t want to be honest about the endgame, you end up mixing the styles somewhat messily. You can’t break or discuss with the rules without acknowledging them, so to speak. Because the originals were honest about the happy/hopeful endgame (the first episode is title A New Hope ffs), they could allow themselves deeply tragic moments like Larses’ deaths, Han getting frozen, destruction of Alderaan, etc. Because the prequels were open about being a tragedy, they could allow themselves lighthearted comic relief for the sake of lighthearted comic relief. 

The sequels... badly want us to consider the possibility of FO winning and Ben dying unredeemed while simultaneously insisting we root for those things not happening, while appearing conscious we’re definitely not buying the former and the latter only somewhat. And it’s tiresome. Dishonest. And indeed, bland. If the story is a tragedy it will be a bloodcurdlingly real one, if it’s a comedy it will be a borderline grotesque one. 

But yeah, returning to Rey, I guess as the main character she’s a lens which focuses the above problems. A very bitter tragedy of what her parents did t her prevents her from being comfortably comical whereas whoohooos I like thats and prancing like a husky on red bull over idols and visions because it’s for children so it must be hopeful prevents her from being intriguingly tragical. So I guess the intentioned effect was tragicomism but, from pov of an engaged casual fan that is my bro, it’s neither. 

As far as Rey’s heroine’s journey lacking some of the usual elements, I blame it on Disney being... a bit too ambitious, maybe. I think they tried to make a heroine’s journey that isn’t ostentaciously seeped in traditional feminine/masculine traits, maintains the structure without what could be called accidentals. On the one hand, I would point out that hero’s journey has pretty much desexualised itself over time, we are rather accustomed to “shero’s” journeys, but on the other... maybe Disney set out on a too novel a territory and may crack their teeth on it, alongside trying to out-Vader Vader at redemption. To elucidate, “toxic femininity” in which a heroine is supposed to find herself in the beginning of her journey, in Rey’s case is uprooted from any of our usual concepts of feminine-masculine social roles (it’s space, duh). My interpretation is that Rey’s version of toxic femininity kind of exists in contrast with Kylo Ben’s version of toxic masculinity - and since the apparent focus of the story is the attitude towards the past/parent figures, toxic femininity would mean her clutching onto the past. Which is why I predict that some act of IX will find Rey inebriated with apparent success in masculine world, meaning she’ll be the one rejecting the old gods this time - and I would point out that panel in Poe comic where she shows herself more sceptical towards idolisation of past don’t mind me, I’m just expressingmy trash dreams for a proper sith lady Rey.

Then again, Rian Johnson said she already found perfect balance between Luke’s clinginess and Kylo’s rejection of the past, so... idk, maybe I’m giving DLF too much credit again.

As for the Persephone thing, I guess the rub is that this reylo reading focuses less on the traditional reading of the myth (where Demeter is the actual main character and Kore is a Princess Peach MacGuffin) and more of an interpretation of it as one of the eldest (at least in Europe) versions of story depicting a transition of a girl into a woman, making Persephone more of a protagonist. 

Like, y’know, this Persephone (D. G. Rosetti, source: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Proserpine_(Rossetti_painting))

I’m no expert, but myths can lose their original meanings because of power relations (anyone still remember about Dionysus, the god associated with excessive drinking, going through a very Christ-like death and resurrection?) and I think it’s possible that this is the case with the story of Persephone becoming a pre-scientific explanation of seasons changing over the year. So teah, that’s how I always understood the Persephone theme regarding Rey.

But yes, I must agree that I’m confused about Disney’s handling of the mother figure, which... Look, SW became a legend of a modern myth because of how epically Lucas handled the hero dealing with his very explicit father. So yes, I don’t understand what exactly is their game with Rey Nobody from Nowhere in this regard. It’s one thing that they had a cool idea with giving her no lineage, another that parent figures are an essential element of archetypal journeys and from symbolic viewpoint the case of a female character the biological relationship is even more crucial than in male’s. And I swear to all the ewoks and porgs in the galaxy, I do hope Disney’s idea of Rey healing the mother/daughter divide isn’t through her healing the divide between Leia and Ben. Again, this isn’t the idealistic sphere. Just... no. 

Anyway, I still maintain hope (this whole meta blog is built on hope) that Rey will indeed turn out to have a proper personal mistake which will make her stand out in the saga. I do have to admit, though, that I find your last theory very likely. I mean, even when I read all the reylo metas going oh, Rey is going to have such an exciting arc in IX, she has so much to deal with though of course it’s not going to compromise her morally, it will be sooo exciting, I just... f*ck’s sake, what you’re describing isn’t a dramatic character only a dramatised role model. It’s great if that’s your thing, but don’t claim it is space opera-worthy, in operas people drown themselves because of cursed sailors, kill over a break up, decapitate over a bad dream and get dragged to hell over a dinner, not persuade their fallen lovers to change their ways, let alone patienly wait for them the understand the error of their ways (and if they do it’s doomed to end in someone dying).

[oneunicornaway]

Hey how about a bartender au!! Peter is working at a bar for some reason and Juno is a frequent customer...

“Sir, I’m not sure…” tried Ernest Walter asa client asked for his fourth glass of rather expensive, rather inebriatingwhiskey.

“It’s fine.” Sighed the client. “Vicky willput it on my tab.”

That was a weak excuse at best, anoutrageous lie at worse, but Ernest Walter was a mousy, nervous kid, new to thebusiness, and as much as he didn’t want to get fired by his new boss, he wouldalso have been terrified of angering the man currently standing only a counteraway from him.

“Are you sure…”

“Listen kid,” the tone of the stranger wasbrusque, but Peter could tell he was trying to look as unthreatening aspossible. “I promise you, Vicky knows me. Hell, even if she didn’t,she’d sooner come after me than after one of her own, no matter how new or hownaive they may be. Now, if you really want to, you can call Todd on me as soonas you give me my drink, but please. Please. Please. Give me. Mydrink.”

“O… okay.”

Ernest fumbled with the glass bottleseventually managing to give the man his dose, maybe even a bit more than that.

What could Peter say? He’d always been asucker for a beautiful face.

“Thank you.” Said the client, in a gratefulbreath, before downing a good half of the drink.

Peter had to admit to being impressed. Hewas himself notably terrible at handling his liquor, but the man had justthrown back his three and a half whiskey with no problem, and while his movementshad gotten slower, he didn’t seem to be nearly as wasted as Peter would haveexcepted anyone to be.

He would, of course, have loved tointerrogate this stranger, who seemed to be so totally out of place in VallesVicky’s establishment looking more like a common thug - with rough edges and anose crooked in a way that suggested it had been broken repeatedly - than thepolished clients Ernest Walter saw during the day. His cover wouldn’t have feltthat way, however, not yet, and Peter couldn’t afford to blow this up for onepretty face.

He caught sight of Todd across the room,coming back from the main public entrance. Ernest sent him a panicked glance,pointing a significative stare towards his scruffy client.

“Juno.” Todd said as he reached the bar.“Why are you here?”

“Hey Todd.” Juno said, glancing at Peterfrom the corner of his eyes. “Finished my job for Vicky. Figured I could checkout the perks before she sends me back.”

Peter carefully stayed focused on his work.He really hadn’t pegged Juno for one of Vicky’s men. If he’d had to guess, he’dhave thought him to be some kind of down on his luck good-doer. A cop maybe.Rough but ultimately kind, which, admittedly, seemed to be a rarity in HyperionCity.

But it meant Peter could now justify gainingmore information on him. If Juno really was working with Vicky, then maybe, he’dbe useful to gather the information Peter needed.

“You should go see her now,Juno.”

“Yeah yeah, sure. I will. Just let mefinish my drink and…”

Todd placed a huge hand down on Juno’sshoulder. It seemed to Peter that he was gripping him a bit tighter than was strictlynecessary.

The lady, getting more and more mysteriousby the second, sighed at that.

“Fine. Going… going…”

He put a bill down on the counter even ashe was dragged away.

“Thanks for the drinks, kid.”

Juno, Peter learned during his research, full name Juno Steel, was a former cop whose carreer had ended messily in a mysterious affair involving mafias, corruption, and worst of all, politics. Considering his previous record, though, it was entirely obvious that his demise was the result of a cover up, effective enough to attract Peter’s attention without revealing him much.

It seemed he worked with Vicky as a private investigator of sort, finding dirt on unpaying clients and grabby assholes, gathering informations on ennemies, and solving the right crimes at the right times to delete Valles Vicky’s concurrence.

He was, in a word, as clean as he could get away with while working for Vicky, and Peter couldn’t help but wonder how he’d ended up helping an art smugler of all things. From what snippet of conversation he’d managed to hear here and there - bringing Vicky her wine at just the right time, loitering around her door when he wouldn’t be missed, listening in through the tiny recording device he’d placed in the ventilation system - she liked Juno at least as much as he annoyed her. She kept yelling at him and threatening him, but from what he’d been able to gather, he was also an invaluable asset to her, and she trusted him with most of her business.

Juno was also, it seemed, incredibly paranoiac.

“So, what did you tell Vicky?”

Ernest looked up fearfully at Juno. The skittish bartender was, for the most part, reassured about the client’s character after a few weeks of not getting attacked doing his job, but Juno still cut an impressive figure, and Ernest was nothing if not impressionable.

“W… what?”

“Drop it, kid. This doesn’t work on me anymore. You’re always there when I come talk to her, and you may not look like it, but you listen to… just about everything I say, don’t you?” He leaned in, causing Ernest to take a cautious step back. “So, what do you say? Is this her way of making sure I’m not going to, I don’t know, betray her?”

He snatched the glass Enerst still hadn’t given him, studying the bartender with eyes, percing enough that Peter felt as though maybe he would be able to find him under the layers he’d carefully applied to his self.

It sent a shiver down his spine, cold and burning.

“You’re not a PI… I know those… A spy, maybe? But, why would you work for Vicky then…”

He took a gulp of his drink, still looking at Enerst through the distorted glass. The fretful man finally gathered himself enough to respond to the - frankly quite ridiculous - accusations.

“Sir, I think maybe you’ve had too…”

“Unless you’re not.”

“I… What?… Sir?”

“Unless you’re not. Working for her, that is.”

Enerst Walter was not entirely dumb, but he wasn’t the smartest tool in the box, either.

“I… am? Sir. I’m a bartender, you might have noticed.”

Peter, however, was following the conversation with interest. Juno was getting awfully close to figuring him out, and that would be a problem.

“What’s your name?”

The question was abrupt enough that even Peter was surprised.

“Me? I mean… It’s really none of your… business…”

Juno looked at him, unnervingly still. Ernest wasn’t a very courageous man.

“Um… Ernest. Ernest Walter.”

“Ernest Walter.” Juno repeated. “Right. And how long have you been working for Vicky?”

“Sir, I really don’t…”

“Humor me.”

Ernest was getting angry. To be fair, Peter thought, at this point most people would have been. Someone insisting you weren’t yourself tended to have that effect on people - Peter would know. But he wasn’t quite angry enough yet to forget that Juno Steel could very well resort to a violence he wasn’t ready to match.

“Three months.” He said through his teeth. “Now, if you will excuse me…”

“Sure. Wouldn’t want to put a wrench in your plans.” Juno winked and it was so incredibly smug it almost looked familiar to Peter’s eyes.

Peter was seriously starting to consider calling this whole long con thing off.

“Sir.” Enerst had come a long way. He’d gone from scared to annoyed to long suffering. “Are you following me?”

“Hello, Ernest.” Juno was insufferably chipper, and Enerst wanted to kick him. “I just thought I’d go to my meeting with Vicky on foot. Lovely weather today.”

Enerst made a show of glancing at the threatening clouds overhead.

“And you just happenned to be passing by my building, I take it.”

He didn’t bother to make it a question.

“Oh, you know… small world and all that.”

Juno was terrible at fake chitchat. Externally Ernest was rolling his eyes at the man, while internally Peter had to refrain from laughing at Juno’s very poor technique. The man had been - quite subtly he had to admit - following him for the past two weeks, and although Vicky now trusted him, constantly having a shadow had been a major pain in the ass.

“And I’m sure Vicky will be happy to learn that you’re keeping in form for your actual job.” Ernest’s sarcasm had still a long way to go, but it was steadily improving.

“Vicky will be happy not to be stabbed in the back.”

“Vicky trusts me.”

Juno snorted at that.

“Don’t feel too special kid, Vicky trusts everyone working for her. Doesn’t mean she should.”

“I” Ernest was starting to get fed up with the pseudo PI, and Peter was regretting then more than ever to have made him as stuffy as he was “am not a child, and Vicky has every reason to trust me!”

Juno stopped, and looked him dead in the eye. Ernest took a careful step back, and even Peter felt himself. Juno seemed like a good enough person, but he still had something of a dangerous lady underneath it all. A controlled violence that neither Ernest nor Peter really knew how to thread with.

“Your name isn’t Ernest Walter and I will find what you want from Vicky if it kills me.”

And before Ernest had any time to respond - before Peter had any time to respond - he stormed off. In seconds, Ernest was left alone in an empty street.

“No need to be so dramatic about it.”

This job really wasn’t going to go well was it.

….

Link to the chapter 2 !

EDIT: Link to the chapter 3!OTHER EDIT! Link to 4th chapter (last chapter)

Alright this is the first part! I’ll put up the second part tonight or tomorrow and the rest (probably two other parts) within the week… this is posted with minimum correction bc apparently I can’t make drafts out of answers, so I’ll come back to it once everything is posted.

[allspark]

Cheers, love! The time manipulating speedster frontwoman of Blizzard Entertainment’s Overwatch has arrived in the first wave of Hasbro’s new six inch line of action figures, and now she’s blinking into the Allspark Studio!

Overwatch Ultimates Tracer

To tell you the truth, I couldn’t tell you the last time I played Overwatch. While I was really big into the game when it launched, I think I can comfortably say my time with it is over. However, I think it speaks volumes about Blizzard Entertainment’s skill with crafting fun, enjoyable characters that I still found myself extremely intrigued by the proposition of Hasbro starting a new line of six inch action figures based off of the game. Though Max Factory over in Japan has already put out a handful of similarly scaled Overwatch action figures as part of their Figma line, the pricey nature of those figures for a game I’m no longer super passionate about gave me pause.

  While my tastes in non-converting action figures do typically skew more towards the Figmas and Figuarts of the world, I was still very much interested in seeing what Hasbro could do with the license. Despite my reservations based on past experiences with Marvel Legends and Star Wars Black Series, I’m very happy to report Tracer has been an extremely pleasant surprise for me!

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To give a small peak behind the curtain, I didn’t know I’d be writing a review of this figure when I purchased it. What this unfortunately means is that I didn’t know to save the packaging for photography. While I can’t illustrate this for you, I will assure you that the Overwatch Ultimates line has extremely striking packaging! A clean, white box with a matte finish features very bold strips of color on the sides, plus some very nice illustrations of the character on the front.

  What’s a little less cool in the case of Tracer, however, is that once you open her up, there is a whole lot of empty space in that tray she comes packaged in. She’s part of the same single packed, $20 range of Ultimates figures that also include bulkier characters like Lucio and Reaper, who I presume fill out those trays a bit more, so it’s not necessarily her fault that she and her accessories are on the smaller side. Still, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit shocked when I saw just how much empty space was in her box.

Speaking of accessories, with Tracer you get her two submachine gun pistols, effect parts that give the effect of shooting them, two alternate right hands, and the time bomb she uses for her in-game ultimate. That last one is a bit sneaky, as it comes attached to her back in-package rather than laid out in the tray, so be on the look out!

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The submachine guns are very nicely detailed for their small size, as is the time bomb for that matter. While they are easy enough to fit into Tracer’s default, gun-hold-y hands, the actual grip she has on them can feel just a bit loose. Not so loose that you can’t trust that she’ll be able to hold onto them if she’s posed on your shelf, but there’s a good chance they’ll slip out or at least turn sideways if you’re changing her poses while they’re in her hands. The effect parts are similarly reliably able to stay plugged in while Tracer holds a pose, but anything more than slight jostling is likely to knock them off. By looking inside them, it seems clear that there’s very much an intended top and bottom that the muzzle flashes are supposed to plug onto the guns, but it’s a bit difficult to tell what that way is and, in my experience, they feel the same whether they’re upside down or rightside up.

  For her handswaps, Tracer has an open palmed waving hand and a little two finger salute hand, both of which are for her right hand. The hands all plug in nice and solidly and feature a wrist joint. It is kind of a shame that she doesn’t feature any alternate left hands and, as far as I can tell, I don’t believe her left hand is even removable. While the included two hands are nice, it’s a slight shame that she didn’t come with at least an open palmed left hand as well.

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When it comes to her detailing and paint work, Hasbro did a good job of picking out all of the most important notes of her character design, making sure they got the attention they needed. Her shoulders feature nice and clear tampographs of the British flag on the right and a flight patch from her piloting days on her left. Her eyes are very nice and crisply painted on beneath her (non-removable) clear yellow goggles as well as some amazingly cleanly applied pink paint on her lips. The timey-wimey, sci-fi glow of her chronal accelerator harness is picked out in an eye catching electric blue, though unfortunately only on her chest. The back part features no such blue paint, though it is still picked out in a nice, bright white and silver. Tracer’s tights feature an amazing yellow-to-orange gradient, along with another tampograph of her own name that she has written on her left thigh for some reason and grey mesh running down the sides her thigh and calf. The gradient really is something to see, though, and helps give the figure a premium feel.

  Unfortunately, there are noticeable amount of smaller details, like the belts that run under her arms and fasteners/buckles that are molded but unpainted. Her unpainted gauntlets also seem a little under-detailed compared to the in-game model. A very slight blackwash or even just a bit of panel lining would’ve really helped them pop a little more, I feel. Some paint, like the aforementioned electric blue, is a bit messily applied on my copy, though it’s only really noticeable on close inspection. There is one very egregious paint flaw on my copy though, as underneath her time bomb there is a gigantic splotch of white paint on her brown jacket. While this is thankfully hidden just by virtue of being on her back and almost being completely covered up by the bomb, it’s still not an insignificant paint error.

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When it comes to articulation, I found Tracer to be better than expected, but still very limited in some ways. Chief among those limitations was, out of the box, my Tracer’s top right knee joint was completely stuck. Stuck in such a way that I feared trying to use force on it would cause it to break. Thankfully though, I was able to remedy this by sticking her in a plastic bag and then dipping her legs in hot water for a minute or two, which loosened her knee up good. With that fixed, Tracer’s legs are remarkably posable! She’s able to assume the kind of nimble poses you’d want her to be able to pull off. In addition to thigh swivels, her knees can bend just as far back as a human knee can without looking too freaky, and her legs can spread for almost full Van Damme level splits. While her legs can move forward decently high, she lacks pretty much any sort of backwards leg movement.

  Unfortunately, as you move further up, Tracer’s articulation starts to get less impressive. While she does have an ab crunch and a balljointed upper body, her bulky gauntlets mean she has practically no elbows articulation beyond pointing down or sitting at a near 90 degree angle, though they can swivel right or left. Additionally, while her shoulders can move back and forth just fine, they have next to no outward or inward movement. While not nearly as limited as her arms, the high collar of her bomber jacket does slightly get in the way of her otherwise quite good head articulation.

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All in all, despite my not particularly high opinions of Hasbro’s previous 6″ scale offerings and some stumblings with her, I’ve ended up being rather taken by Tracer. Giving her a once over after taking her from the box, I wasn’t too sure, but as time went on (and bad knee joints were fixed) I found myself warming up to her more and more. Honestly I think she might be the best experience I’ve had with any of Hasbro’s six inch figures. From what I can tell, they’re really stepping up their game for Ultimates, and I’m excited to see what they can do with it from here. If you’re willing to perhaps risk some slightly spotty QC, I think you’ll really find a lot to love with Tracer.

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Overwatch Ultimates Tracer Gallery and Review! Cheers, love! The time manipulating speedster frontwoman of Blizzard Entertainment's Overwatch has arrived in the first wave of Hasbro's new six inch line of action figures, and now she's blinking into the Allspark Studio!

[floweryfandomnerd]

@the-twisted-otaku Maro this has been in my inbox for so long I'm so sorry. Forgive me because ily <3

----

“Xerx, what are you doing? ” Reim asks, deadpan and staring with great annoyance at Xerxes Break hovering over him with a bandage pulled taut between his hands. What Xerxes is even doing on the bed of his room, he isn't all too sure. Reim, if he remembers correctly, had returned to the Barma mansion after being ambushed by chains - not the Rainsworth Manor.

“You're injur-” Xerxes chokes on the word, shaking and coughing up blood onto his handkerchief, “I'm treating you. Let the doctor see you now,” he adds, making a beckoning motion in Reim’s direction, cheerful and acting as if he hadn't just coughed up half his life.

Reim stares at him with disbelief, out of the two of them, Xerx is most definitely the more injured one, “You're blind. The doctor isn't seeing anything.”

“That's rude, I can still see a little bit, you know,” Xerxes whines at him, petulant like a young child. He sits back on his knees, quietly groaning with pain and withdrawing the bandage when Reim protests too much.

“Don't lie to yourself, you can't even tell where I'm injured - plus if you could still see why do I have to do all your paperwork?!” Reim says, incredulous and exasperated, getting only a pout in response.

Reim rubs a hand wearily over his face, sighing audibly, and Xerxes takes advantage of his momentary inattention, pouncing on Reim with the bandages and quickly wrapping them around what he guesses is Reim’s head, he can't quite see. He ignores Reim’s protests and slaps away his hands when he tries to claw at the bandages until he ties them securely in place and sits back down, grinning and pleased with himself.

“Mmf ismfnt helping,” Reim says, voice and words garbled by the bandages over his mouth, and entire face, really - funny how Xerx had managed to bandage everywhere but the cut on his head. He reaches behind his head and unties the admittedly sloppy knot, letting them fall soundlessly off his face and into his lap. He hopes that Xerx won't notice and try again. Just in case, he takes it and wraps it around the part of his head where he actually hit it and covers the small cut there.

Fixing him with a stare that Xerxes cannot see, Reim watches him critically, he might be good at hiding it, but then, Reim is good at seeing when his best friend is in pain too. “Xerx, you can stop pretending now. Let me see.” Reim says quietly, somber.

Childishly, Xerxes shakes his head, although Reim just ignores him and moves closer. If Xerx won't undo the buttons to show him where he's hurt, he will. He gets the first button undone before his hands are slapped away and, with a long-suffering sigh, Xerxes starts undoing them himself. The bandage wrapped around his torso is more red than white, covered in dried blood, hastily and messily applied and probably in need of a change. Careful to not jostle Xerx, Reim slowly peels away the bandage and exposes the wound to fresh air.

He cleans it up with a soft cloth, washing away all the dried blood as Xerxes winces. It looks like it could do with some stitches to help it heal faster, though he doesn't have any. “Wait there, Xerx, I'll only be a minute.”

Reim sets aside the blood-stained cloth and quietly leaves the room, heading towards the room where he knows Barma keeps his rubbing alcohol, fetching a bottle and a new cloth. By the time he's stepped back into his bedroom, Xerxes is seemingly asleep on the bed, it doesn't worry Reim that Xerx is no longer awake, he's snoring louder than a lion. Tipping some of the alcohol onto the clean cloth, Reim disinfects the slash on Xerx’s abdomen.

Xerxes stirs, cracking an eye open, “Ow.”

“Sorry,” Reim says, pulling away the cloth and applying the fresh bandages.

When Reim is done, Xerxes pushes himself to sit upright again on the bed, once again doing up his shirt.

“You've got to stop over-using your chain Xerx, it made that slash so much worse than it otherwise would have been.” Reim chastises, pausing for a minute in thought for how to say it, “You'll be fine - this time. But how many times are you going to take everything on by yourself before you realise you can't go about trying to throw your life away?! Are you going to push yourself to breaking point every time there's danger? I might not like fighting but I still want to protect you. Going about and constantly getting yourself hurt, you'll upset Sharon-sama! Even more so than me!”

Xerxes puts his hands up in surrender, waiting for Reim to finish his rant. He's listening and kind of tired of getting told off for trying to take on too much, not that one rant is going to fundamentally change him or how he chooses to protect others, but he supposes it's better to wait it out.

Reim trails off, out of breath from his long rant and watching Xerxes for any kind of reaction, even if it's obvious that he listened nothing he just said, Reim sighs wearily, flopping onto the bed next to Xerx and ignoring the muttered, ingenuine apology that comes from him. He could do with going to sleep, if it weren't for someone incessantly poking his side to keep him awake.

“Are you okay, Reim-san?” Xerxes asks, not ceasing his poking in the slightest.

Reim turns himself to face Xerx, not bothering to hide his annoyance, “Fine,” Reim responds, “I'd be much better if you'd stop poking me.”

Xerxes’ hand stills guiltily, “Well, I'm bored - and hungry - what can you expect?” Xerxes gestures around him to illustrate his point, sleeves covering his hands either side of him up in the air as if it was perfectly obvious that he'd decide to never let Reim have a moment of peace in his life. In retrospect, it kind of was.

Yawning, Reim covers his mouth with his hand, tired and watching as Xerxes unconsciously copies, “Would you let me get some rest if I brought you some sweets and something to do? Would that make you behave like an adult?”

Xerxes doesn't miss a beat, “One hundred percent!” Xerxes answers, dragging out the vowels.

Reim doesn't deign him with a response, pushing himself up and off the bed and leaving to raid the kitchen ofr whatever sweets that might be there - though they're not Gilbert's - and looking for something to occupy Xerxes. It's a rather difficult task, given that Xerxes is mostly blind and can no longer read; Reim can't satisfy him with a book. At least, Reim thinks upon spotting it, a chess set might be effective. Maybe he can convince one of Barma’s other staff members to play with Xerx whilst he finally obtains some much needed rest.

He returns to his bedroom with a fork, a full cake on a plate held carefully in both hands, the chess set in its box tucked tightly under his arm and no house of Barma staff member in tow. Reim hands the cake to Xerx - who gleefully and instantly begins digging in - and sets the chess set on the bed in front of Xerxes, climbing up and sitting cross-legged so that the chess set is between them.

“One game,” Reim states, pointing at the board and waiting for Xerx to fix his bleary gaze on it, “When I win, you shut up and let me sleep for a bit.”

Xerxes grins at him, “You really think you'll beat me at chess? I'm still pretty good whether I can see properly or not.”

Xerxes plays well, though it's one of the lucky matches where Reim wins and he finally gets to put his head down and close his eyes. He doesn't even bother to kick Xerxes out of the bed.

[imagine-that-one-thing]

Tattooed Skin. 

Smut Warning.

You watch as the tattoo artist sets up in yours and Shawn's apartment and you can’t help but smirk as you watch Shawn pace around the living room. Usually, he eases about the room with a balletic grace, but tonight he can’t help but pace. He is clad in just a pair of grey sweatpants and his torso is exposing his tanned skin. You bite your bottom lip and cock your head to your side, "you alright over there?" you challenge with a smirk curling on your blossom-pink lips.

Shawn purses his sugar plum sweet and silk soft lips, and he clears his throat, "Yeah, yeah," Shawn nods, "jus' thinking about the album release."

You raise a brow, well aware that he is lying through his teeth, "Mhm, whatever you say. So, what are you getting again?" you question as you push away from the white marble countertop and wander your way over to the living room.

"The three roses on my ribs."

"Sounds painful, I am going to have to hang around to see this one," you wink playfully as you sit down on the couch across from where the artist is ushering Shawn over to him.

Shawn lets out a breath as the tattoo artist sterilises Shawn's rib cage with antiseptic, "don’t you have something to do?” Shawn murmurs, not too fond of the idea of you hanging around. Usually, you have other things to do when he is utilizing his body as a canvas.

You offer him your charming angelic smile, "no, I was going to just read a book but this seems much more fun," you inform Shawn, chuckling as he squirms against the coldness of the anticipate being applied to his ribs.

Shawn rolls his come-hither eyes playfully at you, doing his best to ignore you as the artist begins to go through the simple procedure of telling him how he is going to feel some pain, the typical talk all artists give before inking someone.

*** ***

"Oh, fuck," Shawn huffs through his teeth as he closes his enthralling, champagne-brown eyes shut for a moment, "fuckin' hell," Shawn grunts through heavy breaths as he twists his body a little.

"Shawn, do you need a break? You're moving too much." The artist comments, taking note of Shawn's issue with squirming.

You can tell he is pained, it is evident in his teeth biting his bottom lip and his grunts.

Shawn glances up at the ceiling as he chews on his bottom lip and does his best to avoid the pain he’s feeling. You can hear him breathing profoundly and you know he’s attempting to mask the pain from you, which only makes you smirk. You catch a glimpse of his entrancing, molten-brown as he gazes over at you, they’re dark and dreamy; his cheeks are a blushing red and his hair slumps messily around his face. “Fuck,” Shawn groans, his fist curling into a ball, his flustered cheeks and wavered cussing beginning to turn you on. “I see you smiling,” Shawn murmurs through his teeth, “you enjoying my pain?” Shawn asks in a hunky tone with a scallywag’s smile.

You lift your shoulders into a shrug before you stand to your feet and shuffle closer to him, you benevolently clasp your hand to his arm that’s radiating with warmth. You notice his chest rising up and down rapidly as you inch closer and closer. You lean up and caress your lips to kiss his bare neck before your lips are against his ear, “kinda turned on by your pain kink,” you murmur, just for the two of you to hear.

His blushing, pilgrim-pink lips gape as he raises a brow at you, “that so?” He breathes out, glancing down at you before your hand presses to his chest, “holy fuck,” he cusses, wincing insignificantly and you can’t help but take notice of how his gym-honed physique and muscles wrought from iron flex from the pain.

“Nearly finished Shawn, hang in there,” the artist mutters, his entrancing, molten-brown concentrating on tracing the tattoo.

You spread your hand up Shawn’s barrel chest, “it’s okay, you’ve felt worse pain before,” you comment, moving your hand to drive through Shawn’s delicate locks of chestnut-brown hair, beginning to entice yourself and him.

“Is he always like this?” You ask towards the artist.

“No, but this is one of the painful spots to get a tattoo.”

“Hm,” you hum before you place a few kisses on his neck, appreciating the goosebumps that transpire from him before you lean up and kiss his puffy lips that are kiss-inspiring, satin-soft and are sugar sweet.

“You’re really not helping,” Shawn mumbles against your lips before you pull away. You bite down on your lip, purposely enticing him as he gazes at you with his vivacious, virility brown eyes that are glossing over— he’s beginning to tear up— something you didn’t think you’d see.

You retreat to relaxing on the couch and observing Shawn, quite intrigued by the way he’s heavily breathing and attempting to hide more than just his pain. He’s striving to avoid you and your teeth settling between your bottom lip as you cock your head to the side. He’s trying to avoid the stinging sensation that is causing heat to rise. He’s trying to avoid the fact that he wants you.

He’s hot and bothered. Frustration has never been a good mix with him, more so when it’s a sexual frustration that arises abruptly.

Shawn takes a breath and sighs, “I need a break,” Shawn clears his throat and the artist ceases, the ringing vibration of the needle finally ending.

“You just have a bit more to go.”

Shawn shakes his head, “can we finish tomorrow? It’s hot in here and I’m getting... dizzy,” Shawn trails off, his cheeks crimsoned as his enthralling, champagne-brown eyes dance around your gaze.

You stand to your feet and step closer to him, your hand resting on his shoulder, “are you alright?” You question, a bit concerned. Pain doesn’t usually have much of an effect on him, he holds himself quite well, to be honest. Not to mention, he has never complained about tattoos, he has told you that he usually feels nothing but pressure or a slightly irritating feeling.

Shawn leans closer to you, his sugar plum sweet and silk soft lips pressed to your ear, “I’ll deal with you in a minute,” his voice is husky like and conveys shivers down your back and through every nerve of your body in the most ravishing way plausible.

“I’ll be back same time tomorrow night to finish the rest, you know the drill; Leave your bandage on for a minimum of 1 hour and no longer than 4 or 5 hours. After removal of bandage wash thoroughly with hot water and preferably a mild, liquid, soap.” The artist begins the conventional speech he has to tell every single person.

Shawn nods, “I know, I know. Pat dry with a clean paper towel and let air dry for one hour or more before applying aftercare… got it,” Shawn assures his artist.

The artist packs up his equipment and wastes no time with getting himself out the door. The moment you close the door and turn around, you glance towards Shawn as he stands in the midst of the hallway, “you okay? Are you dizzy? You should sit down.”

Shawn looks towards you and watches you move closer to him. “I’m hot and bothered, no thanks to you.”

“What did I do?”

“Sitting there biting your lip, giving me your look, touching me.” He responds, benevolently pulling you closer to him, “you got me worked up.”

“I did no such thing,” you shake your head, attempting to contain the grin that is threatening to form across your orchid-pink lips.

“You didn’t?” Shawn raises a brow before he tenderly urges you against the wall, “so, you didn’t get inches away from my body, almost rubbing up on me like this?” He whispers softly as he looks at the minimal space between the two of you, “guess you didn’t run your hands from my shoulders to my chest,” he draws a trail with his finger from your shoulder, across your collarbone to the centre of your chest.

He leans closer and grazes his kiss-inspiring and satin soft lips against your ear, “guess you didn’t kiss my bare skin,” he adds before his Cupid’s bow lips kiss the back of your ear and trail down your neck. You tilt your head back and let out a soft sigh, his trail of kisses already causing you to go weak at your knees. “Wasn’t you, who made me dizzy? No.” He’s getting his revenge, he knows what he’s doing and you can’t deny the fact that you’re thrilled by it.

You feel him rub up against you, now making you hot and bothered as he fills the small space that was between your bodies. “Now it’s my turn to make you hot, bothered and dizzy,” he informs you as his fingers wrap around the hem of your grey sweater before he’s nonchalantly pulling it up and over your head. He launches the sweater to the floor, allowing it to land somewhere in the hallway before he’s kissing you.

At first, it’s an effortless, teasing kiss, just enough to give you a taste of what you have both been craving before he stretches away.

He smirks as he brushes his nectar sweet lips against yours before he’s leaving a trail of wet kisses down the slender column of your neck, being ever so careful not to leave a trail of any love bites.

He continues to move down to your chest, his kisses marking like a soft roadmap with his firm male lips that know what they are about. His hands wander your flushed skin, travelling leisurely and particularly before they’re resting at the waistline of your jeans. “Can I?” He mumbles against your flesh.

Even when declaring war and getting revenge, he still requests permission like a true gentleman.

“Mhm,” you hum, giving his fingers permission to unbutton the jeans.

You feel his fingers operating promptly before he’s tugging carefully to pull your pants down. He trails kisses down the centre of your chest, down your stomach, exploring the texture of your skin until he’s on his knees.

He glances up at you before drawing your jeans down the rest of your legs, his effervescent, champagne-brown eyes appearing flamed with satisfaction as you step out of the jeans and caress your fingers to tangle within his silky locks of chestnut-brown curls.

You catch his devious grin; he has a devil-may-care outlook and a stellar smile before his hand cups the back of your thigh and he makes it his mission to cause your sensations to explode into oblivion.

He kisses the inside of your leg, working his way, delicately, selfishly and gradually up the inner face of your leg. “S-Shawn,” you stutter, feeling the divine, sweet lips on your thigh, his slight stubble grazing you comfortably. He’s doing what he does best- sending your head spinning with his teasing and torturing methods. He chuckles at your goose bumps, amused with his success of his gentle persuasion of his kisses.

He tears his honey sweet lips away from the delicacy of your skin before he’s back to his feet. He moves his finger over the lace of your underwear and watches as your hazelnut shaped eyes brighten, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip, “hot and bothered yet?" Shawn grins.

"Don't be mean," you respond, your hands gracing his shoulders.

"You were mean to me, laughing, teasing, biting your lip."

"You want me just as much as I want you," you whisper, struggling to keep yourself sane as he continues to tamper with your sanity. "Let's call us even." ... "I'm hot and bothered and all for you," you trail off in a whisper, taking your opportunity to press your lips to his bare skin, "all for you," you mumble into the crook of his neck before you suck gently.

"Fuck, how do you do that?" Shawn huffs.

"Jus' that good," you murmur, "are we even?"

"Mhm," he hums, all thoughts becoming superfluous but one. His erection bumps against you as your body closes tightly around his, leaving the two of you with no space to spare.

You pull your lips from his tender skin and caress his mouth. He welcomes to with an open mouth kiss that becomes a long, liquid kiss that rushes lust through you. You both deal with the last bits of clothing he has one arm over your shoulder, his hand pressed to the wall while the other holds the silken length of your leg that is resting on his hip.

Poised at your entrance, he gazes into your eyes, waiting for your last initial nod of consent. You nod and smile, eager to feel the onslaught of what’s next. Tension builds between your bodies as he skims your trembling lips before he enters you slowly. Your body closes tightly around him and the unchaining wild, delicious feelings begin to take over your cloudy thoughts. With your bodies moulded intimately against each other, he probes in a slow repetitive rhythm and you match his pace until you’re relentlessly moving your hips against his to assist with the long, slow ride of delight.

Tangy taste and male scent fill the air between the two of you with every powerful thrust that drives the two of you closer and closer to the barrier of resistance you’re both fighting for. Your tongues dip and swirl between the soft groans of the two of you while entangled together in the heat of your bodies. "Yes, just like that,” you groan, the transcended physical pleasure of him causing your head to spin and for the tingles in your body to ricochet.

“You feel so good,” Shawn breathes out, “so fucking good.” He adds.

You arch your back to better accept him, tensing as he goes deeper. “Shawn,” you utter his name through a moan and tense around him as he goes deeper, getting you closer and closer to your barrier of resistance.

A keening sound echoes as you throw back your head and he thrusts once more before you take his fill. “Oh, Y/N,” he breathes out, his arm curling around you and drawing you to rest into him. You catch your breath as you rest your head on his chest, your quivering legs attempting to recover as his other hand strokes your hair. “Think you're a bit hot and bothered,” Shawn playfully snickers.

You don’t have to look up at him to know he has a cocky grin on his lips.

“Fuck you,” you mumble with a giggle.

“I just made love to you and that is what you have to say?”

You chuckle into him, “I love you.”

“Hmm, what was that?” He hums,

You lift your head away from his chest and you look up at him, “I love you.”

Shawn’s eyes are aglow with love and he flashes you an amiable smile, “I love you, too.” … “What do you say about moving this to the bedroom and tangling between the sheets for some kisses and cuddles?”

“I’d love that,” you respond, leaning up and kissing his lips sweetly and lovingly.

You tangle your fingers with him and you both begin to walk down the hallway, "how's the tattoo? Are you sore?"

"Not from the tattoo," Shawn comments, "you should watch me get tattoos more often, my pain kink seems to have paid off tonight."

"Watch it, Mendes, you're luck might run out."

"With you?" Shawn smiles, "never," he shakes his head.

"Mhm," you roll your eyes, entering the bedroom with him behind you, "watching you all hot and bothered was quite a turn on though, maybe you're luck won't run out just yet." I glance over your shoulder and wink at him with a cheeky grin.

"You don't say?" Shawn raises a brow, his eyes watching you as you climb on the bed, "need someone to join you?"

"If you're offering," you respond, petting your hand down on his side of the bed that is currently bare.

He can't contain the smile on his lips as he steps closer and gets on the bed, wasting no time with wrapping his arms around you. "I love you, I hope you know that," he whispers as you get comfortable in his arms as the little spoon.

"I love you, too... You still love me after three years?"

"Always," Shawn responds softly before kissing the top of your head.

Masterlist.