#i just get a little particular w myself sometimes

[hellonerf]

Why restrain yourself

be free

ok if i wake up one day and all i've drawn is crazy knife wielding animegirl ame i will be content with that eventually

[bunnihearted]

i cant fully control my emotions during a breakdown and then i come out of it and im like oh fuck........ ._.

[prettyboykatsuki]

— ❈ YOU'RE SO PRETTY, BABY.

▸ prompt ; companions and their responses to being called pretty boy / pretty girl.

▸ a/n ; bit of a generic post im sorry forreal. while i was originally just going to write this for astarion i had ideas for. all the other companions.

most of the characters have a reader w a specific class or background, all varied! also spoilers for gale, shadowheart, karlach, and lae'zel.

reader / tav is always gender neutral!

▸ wc ; about 4.5k, about 700+ words per companion.

ft. astarion, wyll, gale, shadowheart, karlach, lae'zel

no minthara or halsin bc i could not bring myself to write it. but maybe later if enough people ask lol.

❈ ASTARION ;

Astarion tries his very best to find your affection for him trite, even when he knows it doesn't feel that way. It's an instinct for him, one you'll simply have to make peace with you if you're really planning on tailing him to the end of the world.

Truth be told though, he likes your generally affectionate nature. He hasn't reached a point he can admit this so openly, but the comfortable and easy way you reach for him is nice. He likes how your hands seem to stretch for him, the way you cling to his spine when you sleep in his tent and the likes.

And while he is not stranger to hypocrisy, he thinks it'd be amiss to try and bar you from calling him any pet names when he calls you so many. He's got quite a few handy. Darling is a favorite, followed by dear, and sometimes my love when he can muster up the courage to mean it instead of saying it like he's trying to perform.

You like to call Astarion by his name though, most often. He isn't exactly sure why you're so fond of it, and truthfully he's done little to consider his own name. You say it wonderfully though, tasteful and loving and soft.

Sometimes you gasp it in offense or horror or shock, other times in pleasure. Sometimes you whimper it in your sleep, groping around until your hands fist in the material of his shirt and you drag him back to you.

In any case, he's used to hearing his name. So hearing you utter the words pretty boy to him, he can't help but be a little shocked.

You're a little tipsy. A hard, arduous journey of fighting githyanki soldiers has taken a terrible toll on your normal inhibitions. You're quite flushed while you're drunk, and all the same sitting in his lap like you've not a care in the world.

Astarion doesn't mind holding you. In fact, he's thinking of all the terribly teasing things he can say to you come morning. So far, you've done nothing but mumble. It's a sudden movement, your hands clasped around his face.

"Feeling forward are we darling?" He says, like second nature. It's so reactionary it's banal, though he does have some enthusiasm since the flirtation is directed at you. Instead of your usual giggling, you stare at him with your lips parted.

"I suppose I am pretty boy," You reply, a completely foreign confidence in your voice that stops him dead in his tracks. Underneath the thick layer of flirtation is sincerity so unmistakable it almost proves to be too much "Could I ask you to keep me company?"

Astarion is, eternally grateful about the fact you don't get much more than that out of you. He spends the entire night thinking about it. You're certainly not the first to call him pretty, and that particular phrasing has been thrown to him more than once.

Yet it rings a little differently. The way you said it so tenderly, your hands stroking the nape of his neck and cupping his face. Well, it's not nothing. He can't decide if he hates it or not until the next morning comes.

Your eyes flutter open as light pours through the open part of his tent. You reach over to him with a deep sigh, engaging in some quiet morning affection when you repeat yesterdays sentiment.

"Good morning, my very pretty boy," You say - and this time Astarion is sure whatever he is feeling he has not ever felt previously "Sorry for the antics last night."

"So your memory hasn't failed you. Good to know." Astarion says back. You laugh lightly. "Your charming little pet name worried me quite a bit."

"Nothing to worry about my love." You say, warm and nuzzling into his neck likely to cool yourself from over-heating "I really do find you very pretty."

He can't help the feeling that floods his sense. He likes it even though he feels a little clingy, but perhaps there's no need to admit that.

"Oh, really, darling? How sweet you are. Tell me again, then. Just for kicks this time."

❈ WYLL ;

it's a matter of getting used to it for Wyll.

For the first month of your adventuring together, pretty boy, had been a somewhat condescending substitute for his name. Among other ones, like daddy's boy and prince. None of the pet names held any real affection.

You liked getting under his skin, after all.

You didn't get on at first, not for a long while. You're a rogue, a ratty street urchin turned mercenary who'd spent your youth climbing through the soil and mud of the Lower City's underbelly. Your words verbatim, not his. At first, your resentment for him caught him off guard, especially because Wyll prefers to keep the peace and get along with everyone. But, he had a difficult time understanding you, even with his people skills

Eventually it clicked that your resentment was less towards him, and more towards what he represents. You're a Baldurian, but one abandoned by the city and it's people. What else could the Ravengards represent if not the future you never had a chance to look towards.

It was easier after that. And Wyll had promised to himself to observe you closer. In that, he found to like you a great deal.

He's fond of pet names in general, but more fond of you lately. At the beginning of your adventure, it was a little difficult to get accustomed to your... roughness. You lack delicacy, but you're not exactly silver tongued.

Yet, you're not as cruel as you make yourself out to be. Contrarily, while you've traveled together, Wyll bore witness to only gentleness. Nothing more. The words you spoke about only doing things for coin had been clearly disproved by your countless acts of charity. Especially gentle and kind to children, and especially unforgiving to the rich and unhelpful.

Once he got used to it, there was something kind of...sweet about it. To see you say one thing and do another had it's own novelty that Wyll grew fond of you.

It was the night of tiefling party that roused his feelings. That night, he'd watched you play with the tiefling children all night, teaching them tricks of the trade.

And you'd started falling for him, too, judging by the way your usual snark was nowhere to be found.

Especially vivid is the change in your tone when you call him the same way you did before.

"We'll take a short rest for you, pretty boy." Your voice murmurs, looking carefully over his wounds while place down your own weapons "Get your spells back. Organize our things in the mean time."

He gives you look, examining your own worry before his smile stretches into one of fondness. It doesn't bother him at all, not anymore. No, lately - it sounds rather fond, and each time Wyll hears it, it does something for ego.

"No need for the concern, though I am appreciative," He says, not bothering to mask the smug quality in his voice at your change. He delights in it a little, admittedly . "I'll be alright soon enough."

You don't seem to notice, too busy wiping your blade of fresh blood, metal shiny as moonlight. "And there's no need for your heroism, Blade of Frontiers. Have some discernment about time and place."

You look up at him with your brows furrowed, and Wyll can barely help himself. "Are you worried I'll lose what's left in my appearances? I'm just telling you there's no need to trouble yourself over it."

It takes you a while to register to his words, but when it finally does - your eyes blow wide. The look of embarrassment on your face is well worth it.

"I thought you hated when I called you that." You say coolly.

"It's not so bad," He says back tenderly, staring at you "At least not anymore."

You pout a little. Wyll fights some unspoken urge to kiss you. A little longer.

"I prefer when you're acting oblivious,"

"Sorry to disappoint."

He lets his head lay on the wall behind him - reaching a hand for yours instead, trying to rest up as promised. He sees you smiling from the corner of his eye and affirms it to himself. You squeeze, soft, but otherwise say nothing about it.

Yes, lately, nothing you say could get under his skin. Even when you so obviously try.

❈ GALE ;

Gale is always the poet, never the muse.

He thought highly of his relationship with Mystra, and in many ways still does. He loved her. This much is true. He can't say for any certainty if she had loved him just as much, or at all. He wasn't the first mortal, and would hardly be the last.

But he loved her, enough to write about her and wax poetic about all that he'd lost.

When Gale examines any of his past relationship, he realizes this is some kind of pattern. Gale is good at being loving, but he does not know for certain if any of them loved him back. Or if he was loved in the way he loves - if it was anything near close. Gale had thought, at one point, it was just matter of destiny. Gale is after all, a man who bleeds with all he has.

He can't blame anyone for loving him less than when he is categorically too much. He thought that way for a long time, destined himself to never find love again or beg for Mystra's forgiveness for some new found purpose.

When you came into his life, he hadn't been sure what would come of your relationship. Certainly a brain parasite would make camp a difficult place for romance, but the two of you managed against all odds. Among all the things that Gale finds astonishing about your relationship - it's your affection for him that catches him the most off-guard.

It's a little sad, he can admit. But it's true. When you speak to Gale, your voice is always soft. It's never demanding. Before, always, there had been some kind of expectation. Gale had to be a certain way, to pour himself into someone else for the sake of it being returned.He loved. Surely he loved.

But now, lately, you love him back. Overwhelmingly. The easiness of your love makes him feel a little... spoiled. Which is embarrassing, at the stage of life he's in. He finds the whole thing tips him over the edge. The heat creeping up his neck every time he remembers. Your hand brushing against the back of his neck, cupping his face so gently.

Gale, perhaps unsurprisingly, is fond of your various pet names. All of them sound good. Make him feel important and desired. You like to call him a bookworm, sometimes you call him baby (which he really likes much more than he is ever willing to admit), and other times you settle on saying my love.

Pretty boy is new. Pretty boy is different, and makes heat crawl up the back of Gale's neck like a smitten school boy.

It has a special effect on Gale.

In between classes, spoken with your hands cupping his face as he leans on his desk. The sunlight is pouring through the large paneled windows, casting a warmth on your expression. Gale is sat on his desk, making you eye-level.

"I'm glad you've come to see me," Gale says to you first, breaking a period of comfortable silence. You're a busy person, given all the heroics. Gale finds it troublesome, despite the fact you've moved with him to Waterdeep. Your reputation precedes you "It's been ages,"

"Of course I'd come to see you, pretty boy," You hum, thumb brushing under his cheek - carefully drawing a line "You're very healing to look at."

The effect is rather immediate. As soon as the words leave your lips, spoken to him so lovingly - he unlocks a part of himself he always seems to forget about. Forgets himself in a fundamental way, the flurry of heat and euphoric sensation of adoration washing over him like water.

He gives you a look, and you laugh - pressing your thumb to his lower lip as you lean in for a kiss. "Stop pouting, will you?"

"I'm doing nothing of the sort," He insists, kissing you despite him. You laugh into, warm and bubbly. For a minute, he remembers all he might've lost had he done what Mystra told him.

He's glad he's alive. To feel you.

"You very much are," You reply back, once you've managed to pull away from each other "Don't be so surprised. You've always been very pretty to me."

He blushes again, deeper, and closes his eyes.

❈ SHADOWHEART ;

You don't often communicate your feelings to Shadowheart through words.

You're something of a stoic. Of the few people in Shadowheart's past who remain by her side, many of them communicate about how surprised they are about your partnership. Shadowheart is known to be a little snarky, witty. She used to be very prickly, at the start of your adventure together - so everyone questions how you were able to win her heart.

Truthfully, Shadowheart didn't know what to make of your personality at first. There's a silence to you. Maybe she should expect this of paladin so loyal. A Paladin of Torm, the unswerving enemy of injustice and corruption. You've always been a devout person, putting action and justice over everything. She hated it at first, a natural response for a Sharran, she figures.

Once she'd left it all behind, she could no longer use it as an excuse.

Truth be told, Shadowheart had always liked that aspect of you. Your devotion spoke to something greater than your oath or even your god. You had simply believed in the world, and inadvertently in her. You saved her from herself, her parents from her fate, and then some.

Your devotion to her as a lover isn't something so different. She often thinks you would swear yourself to her if you could. For Shadowheart, your affection is akin to worship. Every morning, the animals are tended and the flower bed is damp. You wake her mother up without a start, remind her of where she is without making her feel ashamed. You're good to her father, talk to him of worldly politics at the dinner table.

She has no complaints to make about you. Your love for her is tangible, something she can reach out and touch with her fingers.

She's unused to hearing your affections, though. Unused to hearing the words.

You lay together in the darkness. You're alone tonight, the entire cabin empty. Her mother and father have gone together on an outing together, after you accompanied them into the city. You've finally returned, put the horses up in the stable, and have to come to her side.

Shadowheart likes to lay in your arms. She lets herself curl into your weight, inhales the scent of your skin - earthy and rich as you let your arm fold around her waist. She lays ontop of you today, her whole body on yours like a blanket.

She looks up at you, her her tied loosely. She can practically feel how glowy her own expression is as she examines you - sees her reflection in your irises.

You let your hand lay over her back, reaching up underneath her nightwear to lay touch her skin. She gives you a look - her smile small, sincere. Your own expression is tired from travel, but fond. You insisted on taking her parents instead of letting them go alone.

She loves you more than she cares to admit.

"You're staring." She comments blithely "See something you like?"

Normally you'd flush a little at this, silent as you kiss her forehead or cheek. This time though, you use your fingers to brush the stray hairs from her face and nod.

"Yes, pretty girl," You hum, nonchalantly. Sagely. "I really do,"

She's so caught off guard, she can't help but gape. She lifts herself slightly to stare at you in shock.

"I've never heard you talk like that. Not once while we've been together. I mean.. you've called me beautiful but," Shadowheart stumbles, a fluttery feeling in her stomach she'd rather ignore "But it's never like that,"

"I think it more often that I say it,"

"And you always think to call me that?"

"Like I said, often," You look over he carefully, before your lips pull into an easy smile "You're pretty to the point I want to tell you all the time,"

Shadowheart is scarcely embarrassed by anything. She's a practiced woman at this point in her life. It's almost juvenile the way the words effect her. It's you saying it that makes all the difference. The way you've said it that makes her squirm. She lets out a little puff of air, silent as you laugh.

"Pretty girl," You repeat, warm and gentle and laced with exhaustion "You're the most beautiful girl I've ever met."

Shadowheart tucks her face into your neck, voice as soft a murmur as the sound of her own heart rings in her ears.

"Don't make a habit of talking like that," She huffs "I already know, but I suppose it doesn't hurt to hear."

You smile brightly. "I'm glad,"

❈ KARLACH ;

Karlach adores you, utterly and completely.

She's a little caught off-guard by it. Just when she'd convinced herself she couldn't love you more, you surprise her all over again. She'd probably harbored some sort of affection for you from the start of your adventure together, when you'd gone to bat for her and make sure Wyll didn't take her head as a trophy.

Since then, though - on your journey together, she'd taken careful notice of you. And gods, she likes you. You're very different she must admit. Where Karlach is strong and fiery, you're cool and calculated. She figured that's just what magic users are like, but Gale is pretty keen on correcting this assumption. You're a sorcerer, specifically, means the whole magic thing is in your composition and not your study.

Which explained why your head isn't the books like their local wizard. She does find you to be rather charming. You're good at talking your way in and out of almost everything, and you can outwit even the cleverest people on camp. You'd think it'd make you... annoying. Or cruel. And sure, you're a little calculating - but mostly, you're sweet.

Karlach's really never met anyone like you before. Her companionship is a little limited because before the Blood Wars, she was a rag-tag kid in the street of the city. But you grew up in a noble house, learned to charm and finesse your way through everything. You know how to read situations before they've even happened.

And you always explain them to her afterwards.

You make Karlach nervous, strangely. Which is wild! When it comes to socializing, she can get along with almost anyone. You though, you always see right through her. You know when she's using her own personality as a shield, and you always know just when to intervene. Or when to say nothing, and just let her sit with you.

The day she blew up at you, after defeating Gortash - you'd handled it better than she could've hoped. You were comforting, and kind, and let her feel it out without making her feel bad. With you, she felt hopeful despite knowing that the end was probably going to come for her eventually.

With you, she thinks she could endure even the end of the world.

You're in the city now, no longer sleeping in the woods. When everyone else has gone to bed, Karlach finds you in the study, a room attached to the main living quarters.

She knocks before entering. Your voice is soft as you tell her to come in. Dressed in your comfy night clothes, your hair damp from washing up. You're bent over the desk with a furrow in your brow that Karlach finds sweet.

"Hey, baby," She asks, her heart thumping soft "Hope I'm not disturbin' your research."

"Of course not," You reply back, encouraging her towards you "I'm actually due a break."

Wordlessly, you sit up from your chair, pointing for Karlach to sit. She follows through, a little confused as to what you're doing before you plop yourself back into her lap. She throws her head back in laughter.

"Don't know what I was expecting there," She giggles, arm curling around your waist "All cozy?"

"Mm," You melt yourself into her embrace, turning to look at her. Your eyes are soft, free hand cupping her face "I'm cozy. What's keeping you up, pretty girl?"

The words catch her off guard completely, her engine flaring from the heat.

"Shit, what's with that?" She glances down at you, smiling like the cheeky fucker you are "I can't get any redder, you know? It's making my engine burn."

"You like it, no?" Your voice is smooth, smug in a way that gets her hot "My pretty girl,"

Karlach stares at you as you say it. Traces the curve of your lips, the slight arch of your brow. Asses the weight and warmth of you as you lay your legs over her lap and feels her body start to react. She didn't think it was possible to feel so complete by someone, even among the impending doom at the end of the world.

With you it fades away to nothing. Permission to want freely, she had no idea she had wanted that so bad. She had no idea she could want more when you'd already given her so much.

It's nice to be greedy. A little greed is fine, after everything.

"If you keep talking to me like that, we're going to do a lot more than just sitting, you know?" She tells you seriously.

You smile and laugh but don't deny her "Only if you say please,"

❈ LAE'ZEL ;

The Githyanki do not fall in love.

It's a fact of the culture, a mark of their honor. Love is for the soft, tender fleshed species of the material planes. It does not suit warriors, not the ruthless githyanki who spend their entire lives training the sword and learning magic. Love had always been a flimsy concept to Lae'zel. To the point she'd never thought about it or cared too. For the gith, there is only pleasure and carnal desire. The foolishness of longing can only be harbored in the lesser existence of the outer-world. The world outside of her creche.

For a long time, this was true for Lae'zel. She had never intended her time in the material plane to weaken her in the ways in which it did. Or that the experience of a ghaik parasite trapped behind her eyes would will her into cooperation with lesser beings. In many ways egregious, unfathomable. In trying to rid herself of one parasite, she'd found herself another one - more intolerable and more consuming than the first.

You. What a foreign and remarkable bond. From the beginning she had told you the truth, that the gith do not love and she would not be able to love you. Though she could admit passion, admit admiration for your courage, admit possession - she could not admit love. She knew nothing of it.

Over the course of your journey, you'd managed to prove her wrong. Slowly stripped bare of the identity she'd made her life around, you stripped Lae'zel down to her soul. Her most honored solider, and most formidable ally. When the time came, you'd told her to do what she must, to liberate her people. That you'd be there when she returned.

That you'd wait for her.

Months apart with few visits in between meant that each time Lae'zel sees you must make every minute count. Enjoying your body and indulging in carnal pleasures is only so much of that. What Lae'zel looks forward too most, she must admit, is the gentleness of your touch whenever she comes back to Fae'run.

Soft warm whispers among the indulgent plush of bed sheets and candles. A room that smells like lavender and oak, prayer books and scripture littered on the desk. A cleric of Bahamut, and a soul strong as steel.

But this, her head resting in your lap as you stroke her hair so carefully, is what she's missed most of all. No doubt she's going soft.

"Chk. You are smitten by the text in front of you as if you have forgotten of my return,"

You look down at Lae-zel with a laugh, carefully placing said book down on the bedside table. The voice you speak with her is different from her own. Tender fleshed even in your speech, you let her curl herself into you.

A vulnerable position, open to whatever may come.

"I'm sorry, pretty girl," You hum. The words practically startle her "I don't mean to neglect you. It was an interesting passage."

"Pretty...It is true among the githyanki, I am among the finest of their ranks," She replies, turning herself towards you - getting comfortable "Yet still, something stirs."

"Are you embarrassed?" You reply, delighted as her frown deepens. Before she has a chance to argue with you, you lean down to press your lips against hers briefly "How sweet of you."

"I do not get embarrassed," She insists, scowling as you begin to giggle at her "It was merely unexpected."

"You're beautiful to me, Lae'zel." You hum, stroking her cheek gently as she continues to lay herself across. Your eyes are tender and lidded. That look of obsession she recalled from the months prior returned in full, and no longer hidden. Unlike your other mortal companions, or the pale elf - there is nothing hidden in your words. No agenda "More beautiful than anyone else. At least to me. Getting to look at you so closely is a gift."

She softens, her hand gripping yours resting on her chest

"When it is over," She says seriously, a solemness to her voice "I will return to you. This I swear. Without you, the liberation of my people would be no less then a dream,"

You return her smile in kind.

"My pretty, wonderful girl," You hum. She loves you. She thinks she understands it now "I know you'll return to me, nailo. You always keep your promises."

"Yes," She says, an unfamiliar emotion overwhelming her "I will not forsake all we have promised."

The affection in your voice shakes Lae'zel to her core. Initial abrasion fades only into warmth. It's not so bad to hear, even if it is tender fleshed.

▸ a/n ; the word reader uses for lae'zel is elvish for swift winds!! reader is meant to be sort of a book worm so you do not need to picture them as a elf and more of a linguist.

this is the most substantial thing i've written in the last few weeks so commentary is very appreciated. i'd be willing to do a minthara and halsin addition to this eventually if anyone is interested!!

anyways, baldurs gate companions i love u. reblogs so appreciated !

[themissinghand]

aahghh i'm happy that your requests r open :33 i want to ask for a Jinwoo x sleepy male/gn reader.. basically the reader falls asleep somewhere but always wake up in the most random places. Bellion has found them sleeping somewhere in the shadow realm more than once and no one knows how they got there. it's actually concerning-

this can either platonic or romantic idc rly

take care!

Solo Leveling: Sleepy Bois are Cute Too!

Summary: 3 times that Jinwoo caught his partner falling asleep on him, and the one time he didn’t. Not in any particular order.

In which Jinwoo is worried, but you reassure him every time. 

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x sleepy GN! reader

Note: Last one for 2023! Will be back in the new year :) 

Warning: None. Just fluffy goodness. 

★・・・・・・★

Jinwoo is worried about your sleeping antics.

He’s worried that when you fall asleep, he will never find you again. 

He took all the precautions, making sure there was a shadow soldier by your side when you fall asleep, keeping a tracker on you (with your consent of course!), and even taking you on his missions to ensure you don’t disappear on him. 

“Jinwoo-ah, don’t worry, I can protect myself.” 

Sure, you were an A-class weapon maker, and yes, you knew how to use your weapons well, but no matter how much you reassure him, Jinwoo is a protective person by nature, knowing how dangerous the world can be. 

He also knows how dedicated you are to your craft, spending days on end without sleep or food to create S-class grade weapons for the world to marvel at. 

But it was only more of a reason for him to protect you from those greedy hunters and associations! 

Perhaps that was where your sleeping habits stem from, the lack of sleep.

It didn’t start off this way, as at the beginning of your relationship, Jinwoo found you cute for dozing off like a baby. 

It was during a movie night, where the two of you cuddled on the bed, and holding each others’ hands. You dozed off very shortly after the movie began, and Jinwoo couldn’t help but pull you closer into a hug. 

Loving your warmth and the peace you bring, Jinwoo easily fell asleep by your side. 

Only to wake up with you not by his side. 

In panic, he rushed around the shared home to find you, only to get a call from his sister, and see you at his mom’s house. Apparently, Jinah found you sleeping in Jinwoo’s old room.

“It happens sometimes…but don’t worry! I’m usually safe.” Your reassurance didn’t make Jinwoo feel any better about it. 

The next time, it was when the two of you were bathing together. 

Jinwoo hummed, satisfied and relaxed, as you washed his hair, scratched his head, and massaged his shoulders. Your voice was soothing, as you told him about your next weapon idea. 

Until suddenly, he felt a hard knock onto his back, making him turn around quickly to see you dozing off. 

He withheld a snicker before he switched your positions, and had you lay on him. 

“(Y/N), how could you sleep in the middle of doing something?” Jinwoo whispered, and although he gently rocked your body, he didn’t bother trying to wake you. 

Jinwoo made sure you were comfortable, and finished the bath, before carrying you like a princess to your shared bed. 

“Jinwoo?” Your slurred words made him smile, and he placed a kiss on your forehead. 

“Bedtime, your favourite time is here.” 

“Yay~” Your dopey smile made him happy as he covered the both of you with a blanket. Jinwoo snuggled close, and this time, made sure to hold you tight, so you wouldn’t disappear on him again. 

Your little snores, and light breathing lured him to sleep. 

The next day, you were gone. 

This time, he searched the home, and even checked with his mom and sister, but nothing. 

This time, he panicked, and immediately searched everywhere for you. 

Like a parent who lost their child, he searched far and wide, until he found you sleeping on top of the Korean Hunters Association’s building. He immediately hugged you close, waking you up from your drowsy state. 

“Jinwoo? What’s wrong?” You who have just woken up from your long sleep didn’t understand why Jinwoo was hugging you so desperately. You patted his back as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“Are you okay? How did you even get up here?” 

“What are you talking about-” Finally registering your current location, you were shocked. 

“This isn’t our home.” 

When Jinwoo registered your confusion, then acceptance (almost too easily), he couldn’t help but feel helpless. If you didn’t know how you got here, and he didn’t sense your disappearance twice in a row, Jinwoo knew he had to be careful. 

This was when you and him talked of the dangers and of the precautions you should take to ensure your safety. 

One time, Jinwoo had a nightmare. 

Of the times where he was still an E-class hunter, where he was still weak, poor, and helpless. 

Of the times where he had nothing to his name, but only shame and disappointment. 

He felt powerless, feeling the shadow of a cold blade cutting into his flesh and warm blood spill from his body. 

“Jinwoo!” 

He woke up to you calling his name and wiping his face. 

“Jinwoo! Are you okay-” Jinwoo hugged you tightly, knocking the air out of your lungs for a moment, as he inhaled your scent. 

He then noticed you wearing his hoodie, clearly oversized for you, and your messy bed hair. 

Then he remembers you, who had taught him how to use different weapons, and how to not get scammed by weapon dealers. 

From then till now, you have supported him, and he has found your talent in return. 

“There there, my little king.” Jinwoo smiled as he felt little pats to his back, and kissed the crook of your neck. 

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

“Always.” 

The next time, when you disappeared, Jinwoo knew where you were immediately. 

He didn’t panic, nor did he fret, though this time, he really did question your abilities as an A-class weapon maker. 

Were you really an A-class hunter at this point?

Jinwoo observed, perplexed, as you once again emerged from an unexpected slumber, this time in the shadow realm. 

With a yawn, you flipped to the other side on the throne, and without any sense of danger, you curlled into a ball, and fell asleep again.

Jinwoo quickly went over to you on the throne, and picked you up, before sitting down and placing you in his lap. He made sure you were comfortable before he looked to Bellion for any explanation. 

“My Liege, I…have no excuses. I was unable to sense any changes in the shadow realm and was unable to find out how Their Highness was able to arrive here.” 

Bellion, equally puzzled, knelt before the two of you, ashamed. 

“Bellion, stand. It’s not your fault. Even I can't sense when they disappear. But keep others updated on the situation.” Bellion nodded, before standing and leaving you two space. 

"How does this keep happening?" Jinwoo asked, and sighed, concern etching onto his face. Even so, he caressed your cheek, and woke you from your slumber.

Like a cat, he saw you scrunch up your face, and even pushed his finger away, before popping open one eye.

“Jinwoo? Where am I now?” It became a habit of yours now to observe your surroundings every time you woke up. 

“In my realm, in my castle, and on my throne.” 

“Huh.” It took a moment for you to process.

“How did I get here?” 

“No idea. But I'd rather have you here than outside.” 

“Well. This is new.” You ruffled your messy bed hair, before a hand pulled your chin back to face Jinwoo. 

“You were sleeping on my throne…were you thinking of me?” Jinwoo’s hand slowly cradled your face as he stared at you with intent. 

“Maybe?” You cheekily answered, before replicating the same action back. However, you steal a quick little peck to the corner of his lips. 

In the next moment, his mouth lands on yours passionately, completely taking your breath away as he pulls you in further and further, until you’re completely at his mercy.

Pinned to his throne, wearing his oversized black silk pajamas, and puffy lips, you realize that maybe you should learn to control your sleep antics. 

[anikaluv]

TOO MANY CURLS —

❤︎︎ pairing: Miles (e!1610) × Miles (e!42) × fem!black!reader

❤︎︎ genre: fluff

❤︎︎ cw: Miles (e!42) is named Myles (creative Ik), Myles being tender headed lol, reader gets relaxer, cussing, reader is tender headed :(

❤︎︎ summary: Spider-Man!Miles and Prowler!Miles as Twins where you get a relaxer and they lose their shit (feat. Rio Morales)

❤︎︎ w/c: 1k

❤︎︎ a/n: Thought it would be funny to write this like drabble, also I feel light in the Morales home they take hair routine VERY seriously so I wanted to write what would happen if this played out.

You’ve been embracing your thick curls since you were a little girl. Your love for your natural hair was absolute, but lately, the maintenance had become overwhelming. Wash days were a struggle, the pain of detangling made you dread the process, and the amount of combs you had broken was making a run for your money.

So you decided to get a relaxer.

“It was either that or the big chop” you reasoned with yourself. It had to happen at some point you concluded. 

Months have passed since you made the switch, and you've had mixed feelings. You sometimes miss the bouncy curls that used to define your look, but it’s like a weight has been lifted off your head, literally.

On this particular day, you decided to visit the Morales family after receiving a heartfelt text from Mrs. Morales,  “Necesito a mi dulce ángel de vuelta a casa (I need my sweet angel back home)."

Walking through the familiar corridors of the apartment building, you feel a sense of nostalgia. These hallways have witnessed your growth since childhood. As you approached the Morales' apartment door, you gave a soft knock, hoping to find the family inside.

The door slowly creaked open releasing sounds of blasted music, pots and pots clicking, sports of tv and various other noises. You giggled to yourself. This family will never change, you thought.

The door opened further, revealing it to be Miles. “Hey, chiquita, how are you-“ . His words trail off as he takes in your appearance. His jaw drops, and silence fills the air as he gazes at your transformed hair, clearly shocked by the change.

Miles’ eyes well up with tears as he embraces you tightly, his hands gently rubbing your back. "Oh, cariño (sweetheart)!" he exclaims, overcome with emotion. "What happened? Did some cabrón (asshole) come into your room and take down your braids?" His concern is evident in his serious tone as he looks deep into your eyes.

You raise your eyebrows in surprise, not expecting Miles to jump to such an extreme conclusion. Playfully shaking him off, you assure him, "No, of course not! I-"

Suddenly, Myles appears at the front door, searching for you. His reaction is no different from Myles’, “Miles is [your name] here yet- Oh lord.” He covers his mouth in shock, his eyes wide with disbelief. Anger fills him as he looks at your hair, his protective instincts kicking in.

“Who did this to you, mami?”, Myles asked bringing his fists together angrily. You wondered how this situation is getting out of hand so quickly. “You know me and Miles can run up on a guy.”, Miles nodded, agreeing with his twin statement as he also brought his fists together. 

Raising your arms in defense at the both of them, you tried to explain what happened carefully, “Guys, relax. I did this to myself guys, I just got tired of my hair. I had too many curls. It was too much”, you admitted. The boys scoffed in disbelief. They refused to believe that you would get rid of your perfect hair for that reason.

Before you could continue to further explain yourself, Rio Morales enters the doorway with a plate of snacks. She drops the plate in shock when she sees you, her eyes filled with sorrow. Cupping your cheeks, she exclaims, "Dios mio (Oh my god)! Who did this to you, angelita (angel)?” Her motherly instincts kick in, ready to protect you. "You know Miles and Myles can find whoever did this and teach them a lesson," she adds, echoing the boys' sentiments. The twins nod in agreement, standing by their mother's words.

Rio's fingers glided gently through your now straight hair, memories of the beautiful little girl with the luscious curly afro that you had proudly worn over the years flashed through her mind. It seemed as though time had slipped away, taking that part of you with it. She couldn't help but feel a sense of loss, and she knew she had to do something about it.

"We're going to the store. Now."

Confused, you furrowed your eyebrows. "What? Why?" But before you could get any answers, you found yourself being swiftly dragged out of the house, just as abruptly as you had been brought in.

The atmosphere in the Morales home was loud and vibrant. Soul music playing through the Morales speakers as laughter and lively conversations swirled around the room.

You sat comfortably on the floor as Rio applied the leave-in “curl enhancing” moisture conditioner into your hair. The sun setting casting a gold glow inside the room, adding to the cozy essence in the room.

As you gazed out of the window, watching the cars zip by on the busy streets below, you couldn't help but express your gratitude to Rio. "Thank you for today. Even though I tried to ignore it, deep down, not having my curls felt… different," you confessed.

With a gentle touch, Rio hummed and continued her work, applying the hair products she had carefully selected for your curls. She massaged them into your scalp with care and responded affectionately, "Anytime, baby." Her smile filled you with a sense of comfort.

As Rio went to set a timer for the conditioner, you turned your attention to the Morales twins. Miles had his bonnet securely in place while Myles sat below him, enduring the detangling process while having a fit. “Bro you doin it too hard be gentle!”, Myles whined. Miles popped him with the comb when Myles tried to put his hands in his hair and hold it down. “I don’t wanna hear this from you after you skipped cleaning your braids for almost a month!”, Miles snapped back while sucking his teeth and shaking his head disapprovingly.

You found yourself giggling at the twins antics, appreciating the support and love that the Morales family extended to you. They were there for you, even when you didn't realize you needed them, ready to lend a helping hand and stand by your side.

Now every time you feel like doing your hair is too hard , you do your wash days at the Morales home and receive all the help you need, and face the problems together.

ENDING A/N:  I thought this would be a funny idea lol, I tried to make it seem like the Morales family wasn’t forcing her back to curls against her will, yk? I think that reader would most likely miss her curls a lot, and be happy she got a lil push back to ‘em :)

TAGLIST: @janaeby @bellstwd @nmgstuff @axeoverblade @zaddyskye69 @agstuffsworld @spidrstar @laylasbunbunny@missusmorale @popeheywardssecretgf @lumineliax@fukingsad @wisteriaflowersss @crxss01

TAGS:

[yourmidnightlover]

getting it over with - ch 1

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: after relentless teasing and being the butt of too many jokes, you ask bucky to help you become more experienced in… a particular area of your life

warning: precious bucky, virgin shaming?, virgin reader, slight male!oc x reader, sexual harrassment, illuding to sex, talk of sex

w/c: 2.5k

a/n: i am working on part 2 in my other series, timeless. i've been debating two different ways i could take it and it's been an internal battle trying to figure that out. that being said, i can't help myself and started writing this and so here it is! this will likely be a simple mini series with smut in the later parts, probably the next one tbh. anywho... enjoy!

another night with the girls, and yet another night of beng singled out and ridiculed over a miniscule part of your life. 

you were a well accomplished woman and yet all of your hard work has consistently been overlooked in nearly every conversation because of your extracurricular activities. or, well, more like your lack of extracurricular activities. 

you had been working with the avengers for five years now as their pr manager, living there for a little over three after finding it was easier to represent and present the team in a brighter light when you knew more about them. it was after you moved in that you got much closer to james ‘bucky’ barnes, who you’ve coined the nickname of ‘jamie’ for. your friends also began to question why you hadn’t, in their terms, “banged,” one of the avengers you happened to live with.

truth be told, you did enjoy spending time with them, especially bucky. but, that would be crossing a line. you were practically employed by them. well, technically you were employed by tony, but that didn’t change the fact that they were your clients. it was just particularly easy to find the good in the people who constantly saved the world. well, that, and you were supposed to make them look good anyway. 

the most difficult one to paint in the golden light was definitely bucky. you were great at getting the media to lean into his humanity and reminding them of how he had been tortured into what he became. you’ve imagined him to the public as “sargeant bucky barnes,” giving him back the title he earned rather than the name he was branded. he was still wary of venturing into the eye of the public, but everytime he did there were less people yelling at him and more people giving pitying looks and whispers. sure, he would rather not be recognized at all, but whispering was a hell of a long way from harassment. 

bucky was grateful for everything you’d done for him. truth be told, you were grateful for everything they had done for you anyway. hell they had repeatedly saved all of humanity, helping their reputation was the least you could do for them. 

but regardless of how well of a job you’ve done making the avengers’ reputation way lighter, somehow the only thing your old friends could talk about is how you’re somehow still a virgin.

“god, i can’t believe you’re still a virgin sometimes. especially being surrounded by hunks like him,” stephanie spoke up as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “i would’ve tried my luck long before i cleared their name, girl. i mean, that sergeant guy has the prettiest blue eyes, and have you never wondered what he could do with that metal hand of his?” 

you rolled your eyes, “he’s more than a pretty face, steph. he’s actually really sweet, too. his humor’s a bit old, kinda like a grandpa.”

“well, if he’s a grandpa then i’d gladly be his sugar baby,” she squeaked as she sipped on her vodka cranberry. 

“can we not talk about him like that?” your face furrowed in embarrassment and you only hoped that she would take your blushing as remnants of the alcohol running through your body.

“why?” she scoffed as she rolled her eyes. “do you want him or something?” she paused, seeingly waiting for your response. clearly, your silence was answer enough. “oh my god you like him, don’t you?” 

“no, no, it’s not like that,” you shook your head as you downed the rest of your drink. “i just spend a lot of time with him because of the job, y’know?” 

“why don’t you just get him to pop your precious cherry?” she ventured as she stood from her stool. 

boy, had you wished for that. mostly in your wildest dreams, but part of you hoped it could maybe happen. but then, you would wake up and were reminded of your place in the world. besides, jamie was over 100 years old. there’s no way he’d want someone who didn’t know what they were doing in the bedroom. 

“or,” steph interrupted your thoughts. “we can get out there and find you a different guy to pop your cherry,” she finished with a wink as she grabbed your hands, pulling you from your seat and to the dance floor. 

you managed to sneak a glance at the clock before the crowd surrounding you made it more difficult, reading the time being 11 pm. you told the guys you’d be back before 1, so that gave you enough time to please stephanie and then politely excuse yourself. 

surprisingly, you had begun to enjoy yourself. the music wasn’t so bad with the surge of confidence the alcohol running through your veins gave you. after a few too many drinks, you were in your own world. finally unbothered by the nagging thoughts of your friends and the weight of your job on your shoulders. 

you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder before turning to see a sweet smile. he had big, brown eyes and shaggy hair, broad shoulders, none that compared to the men you lived with, but they were nice nonetheless. 

“hi,” he said even sweeter than his smile, keeping his hands to himself politely. “i-i’m noah.”

“well, hello, noah,” you smiled as you stepped closer to him, uncharacteristically throwing your arms around his neck as you continued to sway to the music. “y/n.”

“i-uh-you-you’re gorgeous,” he stuttered as his hands modestly found your waist.

“you really think so?” you said teasingly before leaning up to his ear. “i think you are super cute, yourself.” 

at this point, you had nearly forgotten all about stephanie’s presence at all. maybe she had already left with another guy, herself? who knows. right now, all you knew was that you didn’t know brown eyes could be so pretty. mayb you didn’t want to wait anymore. maybe you didn’t want to be the old virgin in your friend group anymore. maybe noah could change that.

“you’re unreal,” he chuckled as he continued to sway with you for the next song until you began to kiss on his neck. 

“you taste so sweet,” you commented in his ear before kissing right below it. he pulled back, giving you a sweet smile before connecting your lips together. 

“you taste sweeter, believe me,” he huffed out a breath as you reconnected your lips with his. 

“i think i want you, noah,” you whispered against his lips so softly he wasn’t sure he even heard you. “pretty please?” 

“ye-yea, sure,” he guided you out of the bar, you needing nearly all of his support to even walk out of the threshold of the door. 

“think ‘m sleepy, noah,” you mumbled against his neck as the cold air hit your face, as if it had began to sober you up.

“you just said you wanted me…?” he perplexed as he pulled you aside into the ally to gather yourself. 

“‘m sorry, noah,” you shrugged as the cold air hit you again. “‘s cold outside, can i go back in?” you turned to walk back inside when he grabbed your arm, probably a bit more harsh than he intended to. 

“what the fuck?” he sounded disappointed. “i complimented you, i let you make the first move, and now you just wanna back out?” he pulled you closer to his body. “what the fuck is wrong with you?”

“i-i dunno, i just got confused i think?” you stumbled as you tried to back away once more. “it’s too cold out here, noah.” 

“maybe this’ll warm you up,” he grabbed your pliable face and brought you back in for a kiss before you tried to push him away again.

“y/n?” you heard a raspy voice call out. “what the fuck?” you turned to see your jamie confused.

“jamie!” you tred to wiggle out of noah’s grasp once more, a disgruntled look on your face as you did so. “jamie…” you were now limply wrestling out of noah’s grasp as he scoffed at the situation in front of him. 

“what?” he said in disbelief. “you wanna lead me on and leave with this guy?”

“noah-”

“i think you need to back of the lady, alright, man?” bucky spoke up as he stepped closer towards you. “she’s clearly a bit drunk, just let me take her home and we’ll be on our way. no harm, right?” he tried to reason with the douchebag. 

“no harm?” he grasped your arm tighter before he continued, making you wince slightly. “so this bitch is able to fucking lead me on and then leave me high and dry and there’s ‘no harm’?”

“okay, i’ve tried to be nice about this,” without a second of hesitation, he had noah’s arms behind his back, not enough to seriously injure him, but just enough to harm him enough to not tempt him to do any more harm. “you will apologize to miss y/n for talking to her the way you did, you will walk away, and you won’t do anything like that to any woman in the near future, understood?” noah nodded. “am i understood?!” 

“yes, yes!” bucky nudged him further in your direction as you were leaning your back against the brick wall for stability. “i’m sorry, y/n.”

“for…?” bucky taunted.

“i’m sorry for talking to you the way i did.”

“good boy,” bucky teased as he released the man, letting him run away and not sparing him another glance before he made his way closer to you. 

“‘m sorry, jamie,” you stumbled forward and threw your arms around him. you had never been so openly affectionate, especially with bucky since you knew his aversions. since you were so drunk, you simply didn’t register the unspoken boundaries you had unintentionally set in place for yourself. “didn’t wanna make him mad. jus’ changed my mind s’all,” you buried your face in his neck. 

“you have a right to change your mind, doll,” he soothed as he gently rubbed your back, leading you to steve’s car he borrowed. 

“y/n?” you snapped your head to look at bucky as he spoke. “i don’t want you to be so late again, doll. it’s almost 2 am. had me worried sick about ya,” his hand danced on your knee, you assumed to comfort you after the events of the night.

“i didn’t know,” you shook your head. “i swear, i just lost track of time. s’not like me to do this. i just got so mad and wanted to get it over with, y’know?”

“get what over with?”

“you won’t laugh at me?” you grabbed his hand that was resting on your knee and turned in your seat to face your body towards him. “never, doll,” he chuckled at your serious tone.

“i’m tired of bein’ a virgin,” you said with a sense of disappointment. “don’ want people makin’ fun of me anymore.”

“that’s nothing to be embarrassed about, doll,” he shook his head as he put the car in park before running to your side of the car and helping you out. “some people want to save that moment, i get it.”

“no,” you groaned as you leaned into him. “i don’t wanna save it. i was just scared at first, and then i didn’t want to, and now it’s too late because nobody wants to be with a virgin.”

“that’s not true, y/n,” he shook his ehad as he pressed your shared floor on the elevator. 

“would you wanna have sex with me?” you wondered aloud as bucky began coughing loudly. “don’t be mean,” you huffed and crossed your arms, figuring he was trying to hide his laugh. “steph said i should get you to ‘pop my cherry’ but i knew you would’t wan-”

“hey, that’s not what i meant,” he stopped your train of thought. 

“so you do wanna ‘pop my cherry’?” you awed at the man as the elevator doors opened. 

“i wan’ you to stop referencing it as ‘popping your cherry’,” he grimaced as he said it himself. 

“you wanna have sex with me? bang? do the deed? take my virginity? make love?”

“stop it,” he groaned as you giggled, leaning into his chest even more. “i wanna have this conversation when your sober, if you even remember it.”

“i’ll remember, my sweet jamie,” you held onto his arm as he walked you to your room, helping you get into bed before going into your bathroom and returning with your bin of skincare. “this is why you’re my sweet jamie,” if you didn’t know any better you’d think he was blushing. 

he began using your makeup wipes to remove the remnants of makeup that had survived the night, followed by micellar water to remove the excess remover from your face. you knew he had seen you do your skincare routine after having so many late movie nights with one another, but it was still flattering that he had remembered it all so well. he finished applying your toners, serums, and finally your moisturizer with gentle hands, his metal one providing a nice cold surface that woke your skin up a bit more. it wasn’t until you reached up to grab his flesh hand that he noticed the bruises lacing your arms. 

“god,” he sighed as he looked down at his lap. “i’m so sorry i was too late, doll.”

“you weren’t too late,” you shook your head at his negativity. “you were perfectly on time. you saved me. i don’t-i don’t know what would’ve happened had you not shown up. i-”

“i don’t wanna think about what could’ve happened, please,” he shook his head as he held onto your bruised wrist softly, tenderly rubbing his cool metal hand over the damaged skin before pressing a kiss to it. 

“will you stay with me tonight?” you asked softly, as if you were scared he would say no. as if he would ever tell you no. 

“only if you’re sure,” you nodded eagerly with a grin before he crawled into bed with you. 

bucky’s arms wrapped around your waist as you laid on his chest, breathing in his scent as his soothing heartbeat calmed you down after the nights antics. 

“i’ll remember tomorrow, jamie.”

CHAPTER 2

[mazikeenhyde]

Oh Baby... Pain is Pleasure - Part Four

POLY JUDGMENT DAY X READER (WRESTLER) 

Y/W/N – Your Wrestling Name 

WARNING – THESE WARNINGS COVER ALL PARTS OF THIS FICTION- THEY MAY NOT BE SPECIFIC TO THIS PARTICULAR PART!- 

WARNING – SMUT,  POLY RELATIONSHIPS, BDSM, SPANKING, VIOLENT REFRENCES, BLOOD, INJURY, ABUSE (CONSENTUAL) KIDKNAPPING/ABUDCTION

Tag List - @babybatlover

Oh Baby…Pain is Pleasure – Part Four

What felt like an eternity laying on the cold floor of the van was, in reality, just a few minutes. My senses were all a mess, you see it all the time in films; people counting the number of turns and times to travel a distance, well I could barely keep myself focused on the situation in hand. I worried to much about the others, they would be getting so worried, Rhea was a little… over sensitive when it came to our safety. If any of us were late home, sick, injured or all the above she was like firecracker at new year’s. Fussing and fretting in every direction and over every little thing. Sometimes it was a little overwhelming, but I loved her for it. 

Out of nowhere, the vans brakes hit hard as it skidded across the country lanes gritted road into a near lay by. I felt the cold chill flood the inside of the van as the backdoors flung open and someone grabbed me by my ankles, dragging me out. I could of screamed, but what was it going to do? How would it have made a difference? At least when I scream at home, I get some enjoyment from it. 

I guess when you consider all the bondage nights we have shared together, Priest and Finn being the ever instigators and professionals when it comes to BDSM, you learn a thing or two about ropes… 

About knots…

and how to untie them. 

These hooded fuckers had no idea I had loosened my bindings the second the van doors closed, but I was intrigued to see where this was going. Whether they liked it or not, I knew who they were. The side road abduction seemed more like a game then an actual threat. Call it the kinky side of me if you like, I was into it. 

I felt my feet leave the floor as I was thrown over someone’s shoulder and they were quick to make a fast pace walk away, abandoning the vehicle. The stale straw smell filled my nostrils, like an unwashed scarecrow left out through a winter night, the sun now baking off the morning dew that hung heavy on their hat. Hearing a heavy set of what sounded like old rickety wooden doors close behind me I was thrown backwards into a chair, my face still fully covered by a hood and those scarecrow style footsteps that had bought me here slowly backed away. 

A softer style gently made their way forward, pulling off the hood that covered my face and glaring back into my soul. I was quick to scan around the room. 

An old worn-down barn, torn apart and battered by many harsh winters with barley a solid wall intact. Opposite me stood a woman, dressed in a tattered white dress, and fractured China mask, her hair unwashed and unkept. She made not a single sound as she crooked her neck in my direction. Next to her, a few steps back stood an ever-growing atrocious figure, caught in the shadows of this ruin you could just make out the rabid fur across the ears. 

Then, out from of the corner of my eye, from the darkness he stepped forward. The bone across the creature’s face glistened in the bask of the sunset. Leaning down into my face it grinned, and I, in turn, smiled back. 

“Hi Dex…” I offered as he removed the mask and tutted his finger in my face. 

“tsk, tsk, tsk, tsk…. Y/N Y/N Y/N” He repeated, beginning to pace around the seat I was thrown on, his voice faking a cheerful tone. 

“Where you been girl, you didn’t forget about us did you? You didn’t forget… about little old us?” He stood in front raising his arms as the other two stepped forward. “You didn’t forget…” He lowered his head adjourning a menacing toothy grin as he looked back up directly into my eyes, “About your deal?” 

“What is this, Dex? What’s with the whole Kidnapping routine, it’s not very funny” I stated, shuffling in my seat as I tried to free up my hands from behind me, stuck on the final hitch in the knot. 

“You. Didn’t. Answer. The. Question. Y/N.” Dexter’s voice was low, monotone, and full of spite. “You made a deal…”

“A deal’s a deallllll” a higher pitched voice came from behind him, her face still emotionless but her voice full of entertainment at the situation I was caught up in. I’d always been a gambling girl, but the odds were not in my favor here.

“I didn’t make it with you though? Did i!” I spat out my words as I managed to free my hands. Pushing myself up and off the chair seat I went to leap up toward the three of them, but two hands clamped tightly onto me, one around my forehead and the other across my mouth, keeping my silent. 

Shit. 

That leather smell was all too familiar, that, that green and blue tinged skin tone, that cackling laughter of misfortune. My eyes filled with terror as my air supply became limited and in turn, pulling me back into the chair; my hands had been locked in place by my own body weight. I felt…his…breath against the nape of my neck, warm and humid as he laughed under his words. That indescribable laughter, the true stuff of nightmares. 

“A deal… is a deal y/n” His words were mixed in with absurdity as he leant in to smell the distress painted across my body in sweat, my whole form nervously shivering where it sat.

“And a debt…is a fucking debt. Dead or alive. The price must be paid… and we are here to collect.” He released his grasp around me as his hands snaked back through the chair and I found my hands had been re tied behind me, only better this time. There was no escape. 

Moving into full view for the first time, in an awful long time, there he was. 

Uncle Howdy.

Pacing around in a circle he twirled his wrists as he laughed mechanically to himself, by his feet perched in the dirt was Huskus too, ever as creepy as the others. Yet always seemed to be a little pet to his master.  

“Let. Me. Go!” I spat out each word in both fury and fear. “My deal, wasn’t with you either Howdy!” 

Before I could catch my breath back, Huskus almost threw himself backwards to be nearer the other two as Howdy ran straight at me, grabbing the tops of my arms and pushing the chair back onto its edges, as he closed the gap between us to leave millimeters between my face and his. His voice was enriched with the fury of an army and every word filled with hatred. 

“YOU FORGET YOUR PLACE Y/N” He spat through gritted teeth. “HE MAY HAVE LEFT THIS REALM BUT DON’T FORGET WHOSE WORLD YOU LIVE IN!” His eyes looked down and I followed, only now realizing just where I was sitting. 

“Even in death, he lives on. Even in the living days of now, the ghosts of our past come back to haunt us.” Howdy smiled once more returning his gaze to meet mine as he began pushing the infamous rocking chair back and forth. Throwing my head to the side at the sound of a matchstick strike I glanced at Abby, the witch, light that haunting lantern and the atmosphere in the room felt very dark in the split of a second. Dexter leant into the glow of the dim light and smiled, snatching his face to stare back at me. 

Howdy’s hand then came up to mine as his fingers turned my chin back to face him. 

“He… set the price. You agreed to the terms, The dice were cast, and you got what you wanted.”

“But I will lose what I have…” I offered my plea, but it fell on deaf ears. 

Uncle Howdy stood, straightening himself and shrugged his shoulders. 

“We don’t choose the cards we are dealt y/n, but we decide how to play the game. It’s a gambling world full of sinners, either win or lie to succeed, and we pay our debts to the ferry man on the way out. But you never cheat. There’s always… Witnesses.” He looked back at me at winked.  

“It was you… it was from you” I recalled that text. 

“Did you work it out yet?” How is Miss Morgan” Uncle Howdy smirked as his little friends walked forward to lurk at his side. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about. Work what out?” I played the fool, in regards to Liv anyway. 

Howdy snapped his fingers and his little witch stepped forward, scribbling with her chalks across the dirt floor with the words ‘LOCKER WITNESSES’, looking up to me and smiling she was quick to run her hand over and rearrange the letters. 

L.O.C.K.E.R    W.I.T.N.E.S.S.E.S

……............................................................................

S.                                K.                                L.

E.                                N.                               I. 

C.                               O.                               E.

R.                               W.                              S. 

E.

T.

S. 

…...................................................................................

I couldn’t believe it, how had I not noticed that before. It was a fucking anagram, it was her, Abby, she had sent me that message just after Liv had text me while I was training with Finn. 

“Our secrets birth the lies that entangle us, until we suffocate, they restrict our souls with their never-ending depths of deception until we choose to reveal them. We set the truth free…” Howdy smiled, knowing full well I would never let that happen. 

“So here’s your choice Y/N… reveal your secrets to those you love most, set those lies freeeeeeeee….” He laughed as his words fell into a whisper by the end, that laughter was torturous and never ending. 

“Or… pay your debt” He stopped, arms stretched out wide, stating the terms blankly. 

“How…?” I questioned. 

“WrestleMania… The witch cashes in, you throw the match.” He put it out there, plain and simple.

“I can’t…” I whimpered, “It would break them, they’ve all worked so hard to get me there. Ive worked ridiculously hard to get myself to this point! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!!” My heart was breaking as i screamed... "Please..."  

“Secrets don’t stay hidden forever y/n… those are the terms. That is the price.” And with that Uncle Howdy grabbed the lantern and blew it out, his laughter was the last thing I heard before something caught me around the side of the head, I felt myself crash onto the dirt floor in a heap before everything went pitch black. 

---------------

My eyes fluttered in a daze as I could hear the sound of panicked voices around me, the ground had returned to the normality of the grit on a public road. Though everything surrounding felt like a jumbled mess and nothing sounded quite right, but I recognized those voices. Those soft, loving, gentle voices. 

“Mi Amor..”

“Lass? Can you hear me?”

“Bunny? Bunny!?” 

“Mi Vida, estás bien? 

It was all a bit like a dream as I sat up, had it really happened? Was I just dehydrated? My head hurt for sure, maybe I could just pass it off as dehydration. Then they wouldn’t worry so much, but I was struggling to ground myself and form a real sentence. Without hesitation, Damian had scooped me up into his arms and taken me inside.

---------------------

That night I lay in between them all as they slept, wide awake and full of a million questions and a thousand more fears on top. I had no idea what to do, what was going to happen and how I was going to escape this mess. It was my mess, and they were right, secrets don’t stay hidden forever. 

Speaking of secrets, I pulled out my phone from under my pillow and turned my head to see Damien’s face, gently breathing on me as he slept. God how I loved him, my gentle giant in all his glory. It pained my heart to think of the hurt that was headed their way, because one way or another someone was going to get hurt. But I’d sooner die before I let it be them, and they can never find out. Not about her. 

I opened up my messages seeing the one I now knew was from Abby and closed it, to open instead the one from Liv. Taking a deep breath, I replied to her…

“The Wyatts know…” I clicked send, but as if like fate met fortune, like the nightmare needed its finishing touch, my gentle giant spoke…

“Know what y/n?” Damian locked eyes with me, and my face gave it all away. 

Now… I was well and truly fucked. 

He sat up, pulling me up with him. 

“What are you playing at, you don’t go around messing with the Wyatts…” 

I was frozen on the spot, how was I going to get out of this. 

Damien pulled me in to close the gap and with a tight grip around the back of my neck he was plain and clear with his words. 

“What the fuck have you done…?” 

TO BE CONTINUED ...

Part 5??

[lueurjun]

neighbours to lovers! jake sim.

neighbour!jake x reader! in which jake sim has been in love with you from the minute he set his eyes on you. thank u so much for your support<3

OKAY LEMME TAKE A MOMENT TO GATHER MYSELF

because NEXT DOOR NEIGHBOUR JAKE???

WHO HAS BEEN IN LOVE WITH YOU SINCE YOU WERE KIDS?

dead. cant breathe.

his family and your family obviously know each other well

and i see his house as being ‘the spot’ during your childhood where all the neighbourhood kids used to play

he had these monkey bars in his backyard that everyone always wanted to play on

but jake always made sure you got to go on them first

#whipped

#nineyearoldrizz

brace yourselves

are you braced?

i’m not sure you’re braced

… HE WAS YOUR FIRST KISS

i know!! so cute right?

fighting back tears rn

you were only eleven so you didn’t really think much of it. he was your first kiss and you were fine with that

jake on the other hand?

he still thinks about it

in fact, that’s one of the scenarios he thinks of to help him get to sleep

boy is hopelessly in love

and everyone knows it too

like he denies it but everyone just knows

because he will drop anything just to do you the smallest favour

“hey jake, are you busy? i could really use your help watering my parents flowers?”

jake, who is in fact busy, “nope. not at all. never. give me that watering can.”

i repeat: w h i p p e d

cant blame him tho. you’re the embodiment of warmth, the personification of excellence. you are simply amazing.

i got more rizz that jake just sayin… ;D

despite knowing you for so long, he still gets all tongue tied whenever you’re around

and you’re just clueless

a perfect little dumbass

no matter how many times your family and friends — and even HIS family and friends — try to tell you, you’re convinced he’s just being friendly

because boys like jake don’t like people like you

you’re not enough for him. and he’s certainly not attracted to you

keep thinking like that. i dare u. i’m outside of your house. ur perfect! MWAH MWAH. take all my love pls

in true neighbours to lovers fashion, your bedroom window faces his

#youbelongwithmecore

and sometimes like the little creep that you are, you peek inside of his room to see if he’s there

unbeknownst to you, little jakey poo does the exact same thing

soulmates fr

twins asf

people that creep on each other, end up with each other

i do not condone staring into your crushes bedroom. do not do that. you may get arrested… but if you do send me your mug shot, i bet u look adorable! KIDDING IM TOTALLY KIDDING PLS DONT GET ARRESTED

anywhooo, one particular night you peek into his room

at the exact same time as him

cue that spiderman meme where they’re just pointing at each other

you both just kinda freeze

staring at each other

because now what? you’ve both caught each other out

eventually, you shuffle forward and open your window which coaxes jake to do the same

the confidence comes naturally because it’s only jake, you know him like the back of your hand

tho ur screaming on the inside because a) you’re embarrassed and b) JAKE WAS STARING INTO YOUR ROOM WHICH MEANS HE WAS LOOKING FOR YOU

it’s almost like he’s in love with u or sumn idk

“are you stalking me, sim?”

his cheeks go bright red and he kinda starts spluttering

“i—no. i promise i wasn’t—i-“

well. that was disappointing. you kinda hoped he’d keep up with your flirty banter

“it’s okay jake, i was doing the same thing.”

honest icon. you truly can do no wrong

even more spluttering. even more blushing

because YOU???? WERE WATCHING HIM??

bro loves stalkers. IM KIDDING ILY

anyways there’s something about the atmosphere

and to jake, it just seems right to say what’s on his mind

which leads to him sitting with his feet hanging out of the window and the darkest shade of red on his cheeks

“i still think about that kiss.”

did u hear me scream?

your mind goes blank

because what tf does that mean?

the kiss?? THE KISS? THE FIRST KISS???

HE STILL THINKS ABOUT THAT???

he can’t look you in the eyes, choosing to fiddle with his fingers instead

and you just stand there dumbfounded

bby talk to him before i lose my mind

when you don’t say anything, jake scrambles back into his room which kinda snaps you out of your trance

his fingers are itching to close the window

“i’m kinda upset that you’ve never come back for seconds”

i literally have a lambo and nine mansions

marry me rn

now it’s jakes turn to be speechless

bro is FLABBERGASTED

“oh.” 🧍🏻

“oh?”

“oh.”

this is painful. it’s 5:30 am rn cut me some slack

you have this poor boy breaking out into a rash from stress

and it worsens when you grab your coat and demand for him to meet you outside

like the true gentleman, he doesn’t leave you waiting long and almost falls flat on his face trying to get through the door

what a loser. i love him

he shuffles towards you, hands in his pockets and a look that says he’s absolutely terrified

are you gonna slap him? tell him you never want him to speak to you again?

“look, i’m sorry if i overstepped—“

“are you gonna give me my kiss i’ve been waiting for or not?“

it’s then that he notices that you’re both in the exact same spot as you were all those years ago when the first kiss happened

literally giggling and kicking my feet rn

“a-are you sure?”

and those are the exact words he uttered the first time too

he was as nervous as he was back then, perhaps even more so this time around

because this isn’t an innocent childhood kiss

you’re grown now. it’s different

in true y/n fashion, you start to lose patience

so you trust your gut and you grip onto his shirt, tugging him closer giving you the perfect chance to collide your lips with his

jake’s hands waft around in stress until they finally settle on your waist and he gains enough confidence to pull you somewhat closer to him

i don’t want a boyfriend. i don’t want a boyfriend. i don’t want a boyfriend.

the kiss is a thousand times better than the first

it's passionate and sentimental, full of longing and tenderness. it’s everything and more.

pulling away is almost a chore as you rest your head against his.

“i could get used to that.”

jake goes to respond, a breathless chuckle ghosts your lips when suddenly a wolf whistle cuts through the street

“AYO JAY OWS ME 20! I KNEW HE’D GROW SOME BALLS EVENTUALLY”

sunghoon, the neighbour across the street who also happens to be jake’s best friend, is leaning out of his window.

that definitely should have ruined the moment but you were far too wrapped up in the bliss of having jake so close to you, that nothing could ruin the happiness you felt

not even sunghoon and his idiocy.

[jeongin-lvr]

ᵎ　🍶　⊹ perverted, yang jeongin

ᝰ✧ 𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀！ 𝗌𝗎𝖻𝖻𝗒！𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽！𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇𝗀𝗂𝗇， 𝗆𝖾𝖺𝗇 𝖽𝗈𝗆！𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋，𝗆𝖺𝗅𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇， 𝗇𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖺𝗅 𝗎𝗉𝗌𝗄𝗂𝗋𝗍 𝗉𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗈𝗌， 𝖽𝖾𝗀𝗋𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗋𝗂𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝖾𝖽𝗀𝗂𝗇𝗀， 𝗈𝗋𝗀𝖺𝗌𝗆 𝖽𝖾𝗇𝗂𝖺𝗅， 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍，𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝖾𝖽．

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾：𝗂 𝗐𝗋𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝟤 𝖺𝗆 𝗉𝗅𝗌 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗌 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗄𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗍𝗌

[ 4281 words ] ✩ [ do not repost ] ✩ [ 𝗆．𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ]

𝗝𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗜𝗡 took those pictures with shame in his eyes. He often wondered why he was such a disgusting person, yet at the same time, he couldn't stop himself from uplifting your skirt and taking a swift peek at your deliciously soft flesh. He'd slip his phone under your thighs as well while you laid or even stood beside him, his mouth laying open as he wondered what would happen if he was caught. And later that night he'd look back at them with excitement, excitement that was forecasted with shame; yet, he'd look through every single one.

Over and over and over again.

He loved the little crease where your ass met your deliciously curvy thighs. He loved the look of your panties clinging to your ample cunt, sometimes he'd see a wet mark between your enticing lips and he'd wonder what you were thinking about that made you that way.

God forbid he ask however, it would be embarrassing to even say. So he preferred to just ogle at the perverted photos he took of you. He kept them safe as if it were pure gold.

So there he was swiping through the photos, some he'd seen a thousand times before. Some from MONTHS ago. Others from this morning. Jeongin was thankful you wore so many skirts; if you didn't he'd be left empty handed without these blessed pictures.

One in particular caught his eye, one of your denim skirt lifted up to expose the white and pink underwear you wore that day. It clung to your curves, dipped at your hips and tight against your skin.

In the photo you were asleep, laying sideways on the mattress of his own bed with your arms curled around your chest, his own shirt adorning your skin.

The combination of your tight little underwear and his baggy shirt draped over your body made him mumble desperately to himself, a quick curse as he felt heat rise in both his cock and face. Jeongin knew this feeling and though the guilt was strong, the horniness was stronger.

Jeongin glanced at his doorway, seeing it was closed, the light in the hallway outside was out, which he hoped meant everyone was asleep already. His members were, in fact asleep, but he didn't know about you.

The girl who haunted his fantasies, one by one, taking over the little world in his mind. God, he loved when you starred in his pornographic thoughts. It was like a movie every time.

Jeongin rubbed himself slowly through his sweatpants, eyeing the photo of your beautifully crafted butt, the soft pink lace of your underwear being something he never knew he needed to see you in. It must've been new, he hoped to get another picture next time. Maybe a closer look.

He whined to himself, squinting his eyes as he felt himself grow harder, his hand instinctively reaching into his pants to fish for his cock.

Already rock fucking solid.

The boy swiped more, eyeing the numerous, scandalous photos on his phone with lidded eyes as his own hand jerked himself off. The delightfully warm lube of his own cock making the sensation all the better.

He imagined it wasn't his pathetic hand, but instead your warm, velvety walls around him.

He moaned, shushing himself as he continued. Photo after photo only adding to the pleasure of his own relentless jerks.

I strutted down the hallway toward my room, the last door beside Jeongin's. It was deadly quiet apart from my feet against the cold flooring of the hallway, thanks to the silent night. I yawned to myself, scratching my bare thighs as I crept down to my room.

It was when I reached for the handle of my doorway that I heard a tiny whimper, something so fucking delicious I instantly quirked up. My head turned around, arms and legs frozen as I listened closer.

Another whimper, this time a tiny bit louder, I shifted at the repeated sound. My eyes lingered up and down the hall, pausing at every room while wonder threaded my mind.

Who is that?

Another whimper- more like a silent cry this time -that made my cunt throb. I raised a hand to my face, mouth falling wide as my eyes trailed to the final door before mine; Jeongin's door. His door was lit aglow from beneath the cracked underside, signaling someone was awake in there. And it was definitely the sweet boy I've known forever.

My curiosity pulled my body toward the door, while I knew it was weird and gross and made me seem almost disgusting, I pressed my ear against the soft wood. And I heard another groan, whinier than the others, almost like he was saying a name, but I couldn't figure out whose name it was. More intrigue filled my head, my eyes widening as I softened my breathing to hear more. There was silence, before I finally heard his gorgeous moan.

Yeah, it's a name. My name. I froze again, my palms flat against the door as I contemplated what was happening. Nothing was registering, nothing was clicking. My brain felt dizzy yet my morbid and terrible curiosity kept me upright.

"Y/n... ah, fuck..." his muffled whimpering that made my cunt throb once more, my eyes fluttering shut as I pictured the boy, wondering what he would've looked like right now as he murmured my name alongside his hot, breathy moans of bliss.

My hand rested on the door handle, wondering what he would do if I just turned it and waltzed in like some kind of confident bastard. Would he freak out? Would he... continue? Invite me to join him? My thoughts felt so sinful, so terribly gross. But they wouldn't stop forming.

"I can't- ah, g'cum-" Jeongin whimpered, his voice clear yet diluted by the doorway between us. I hummed to myself, licking my lips.

Then there was a loud, groan paired with soulful whimpers. The wet noise of his hand meeting the flesh of his body began to slow until there was no sound at all. Soon it was quiet. Not even a shuffle from behind the door.

Then suddenly the door pulled open, making me stumble forward a bit but I caught myself with my foot, dumbly standing. Jeongin stood in shock, phone in hand and the screen displaying something odd. My eyes flashed from his face to curious picture staring back at me. Jeongin looked purely terrified, his forehead sheen with sweat and his lips parted and pink per usual. Except now they were turned downward in surprise, eyes wide in fear.

But I didn't notice any of that. My eyes were directly on the familiar looking pair of panties on his screen. Pink and white lace... that's me.

"Y/n- what are- ah, don't look at that-" Jeongin continued to sputter out nonsense, but my hands were quick to snatch up his phone, fingers instantly swiping left and right at the photos. I stepped into his room, pushing him as I eyed the screen in horror.

I paced for a bit, seeing my ass and panties more and more explicitly with every swipe I made to his phone screen.

Jeongin blubbered and objected, trying to snatch his phone but failing miserably. Soon he gave up and sulked down on his bed, shamefully hiding his face in his perfectly made hands. I paused at one picture, finally looking at the boy with something amiss on my face.

For some reason, the idea of him being so fucking pathetic to take these pictures, to be touching himself to it- that made my cunt throb again. I found my eyes hungrily gazing at the sinful boy just a few feet away, obviously ashamed of himself, as he should be. That shameful expression on his pretty face was for some odd reason turning me on immensely.

I gripped his phone right, walking slowly over to him with a hand out, my fingers met the skin of his hands as I pried them off his face, studying his shameful looks.

"Did you take these?" I asked in a sweet tone, hoping to convey my desires and message across. Though, I'm sure my wild, almost narrowed eyes caught him off guard, "Did you fucking take these?"

Jeongin looked like his eyes were glazing with salty tears, definitely regretting his decisions now. I had to chuckle at his grossly pathetic look. I knew he was desperate, desperate for anything like this. I found it cute how ashamed he was. The sight was delectable.

"Please... pretty, I'm sorry," He whined as my hand held his chin firmly, tilting his head up at me while I simply stared down at him with what I hoped was an unimpressed, almost disgusted face, "I... I couldn't help it- Please don't be mad. I'll delete-"

"Don't." I stated harshly, my tone firm and commanding. He paused his sputtering, looking at me daringly with stupidity, eyes watching my face with that same curious gloss on them.

"Don't delete them," I chuckled, looking at them again whilst my hand held his jaw tightly, "Look how many there are... you're a fucking pervert aren't you?" I almost cooed, endearingly leaning in on his face as my eyes flashed between the phone in my hand to his eyes. His pathetically helpless eyes.

"Did you enjoy these, hm?" I kept my eyes firm and lidded as I met his desperate ones. His eyes remained glossy and pleading, lips quivering with confusion. But when I glanced down at his crotch, I could see the evident boner growing within the depths of his pants.

"Well, did you?" I jerked his chin again, demanding a response.

He nodded, "Yes."

"How pathetic," I dryly spoke, opening more pictures on his phone. Some of my panties and ass, others of just me. If Jeongin wasn't such a pretty boy I swear I would've been calling the police by now. But for some reason his odd obsessive and quite frankly weird habits made me horny as fuck.

"Please, Y/n, I'm sorry, please please please don't be mad-" Jeongin whined out loudly, cheeks red and sweat forming on his forehead from the raging nervousness he felt.

"Can you shut the fuck up?" I sneered, moving my fingers from his chin to his hair, tugging it harshly as I stared down at him lustfully.

"Do you think good boys take photos like this??" I asked, watching his eyes burn with more tears. I checked again and confirmed his dick was rock solid. I saw the outline in his grey sweats, "I don't fucking think so. Are you that pathetic that you have to take photos up my skirt to get off? Hm?"

Jeongin shook his head, a tear falling down his porcelain stained cheek, eyes faltering to my lips for a split second as I unknowingly got closer to his face, sneering but silently enjoying his expressions.

"Speak, baby." I demanded. His eyes widened at the nickname and I even found myself wondering where that came from. But when he looked at me with such pleading, submissive eyes I felt my cunt throb and realized why it rolled off my tongue so easily.

"N-no..."

"No? You were touching yourself weren't you? To these pictures?" I spat in his face, edging him on with my words.

"Mhm," His mouth spoke it in more of a moan as I pulled at his sweaty hair, eyes on his lips.

"Bad boy," I hummed crudely in his face, "How are we gonna fix this, huh?"

"I dunno," Jeongin groaned, lips brushed against mine.

I didn't speak as I let go of his hair, tossing his phone to the side as I stood straight up. He watched pathetically, eyeing me as I slithered out of my shorts, then my baggy top, leaving me in nothing but my pink and white lace panties. The very ones from the picture.

He watched with wide eyes, complete wonder and awe in his face as I walked back over to him. I straddled his lap, taking his hair between my fingers again as I jerked his face up to meet mine.

"You're gonna be a good boy and fucking take it, aren't you?" I asked softly, lips barely a millimeter apart.

I felt his erection rub against my soaked cunt, the cloth between us made the friction all the better.

"Y-yes," Jeongin groaned at the feeling, eyes fluttering from the desirable feeling.

I adjusted myself, taking my panties off one leg at a time, letting him ogle at the white and pink hues that were drenched in my natural lubricant. He watched carefully, sweat somehow still gleaming on his forehead despite nothing happening yet.

"Say ah," I ordered, switching into a softer voice. He widened his jaw and allowed me to stuff the fabric between his lips, his muffled groans filling the room as I continued to playfully rub my cunt on his hard dick.

"Since you like my underwear so much you can eat it," I giggled, clapping my hands against his shoulders as I began to grind on him harder, his eyes squeezing and eyebrows twisting with insurmountable pleasure.

"Let's see... does Innie want to be in me?" I asked, grinding becoming slower as I spoke.

He nodded ferociously, begging me with the low grunts and somber eyes he gave me. Pleading with me without saying a word.

"You want to be in me, huh, baby?" I asked, clit rubbing against his sweats and edging me on just right. I watched his lashes flutter. His dark eyes meet mine with desperate passion, "After all the naughty things he's done? I'm not sure..."

Muffled pleas left his mouth, some more audible than others. His eyes falling to my cunt, across my nude figure and while I wasn't a mind reader, I knew what was playing in his horny little brain; this was much better than the pictures.

He whined more, hands stifling holding himself up as I held his shoulders tight. My eyes never left the sight of his quivering, pathetic mouth. The way his lower lip trembled with delicious tenacity. I wanted to watch him sob and writhe for a release, this was only the beginning.

He just didn't know it yet.

Whine after delicious, sweet whine, he didn't stop pleading. My cunt was throbbing around nothing, but I held myself upright. Jeongin whimpered, grinding his hips upwards against mine, barely feeling the friction that was driving him wild. A muffled 'please' left his shimmery lips, sweat glossing the skin of his neck and face as he spoke.

"Okay, fine," I pulled the elastic of his pants down, showcasing his proud and excited member to the world. I admired it for a second as I took it between my palms, holding it tightly but refusing to move.

I adjusted my warm body over his cock, feeling the delectable prod at my entrance as I lined it up like two puzzle pieces. Jeongin whimpered through the muffling of my panties in his mouth, nodding ferociously as if to say to sheath myself unto him. He tried and failed to push his hips upward, trying to relentlessly to fill me up. But I smacked his cheeks lightly, string enough to convey my message.

Thought he sat stunned I felt the pathetic, egregious twitch in his cock.

Before I fully sunk down onto him, I bent to his ear, pressing my teeth into his lobe as my fingers played with the soft strands of his hair at the back of his neck.

I parted my lips, a whisper leaving my mouth, "Just so you know, I'm not letting you cum. Not yet at least. Can your pathetic little cock handle that?"

His eyes widened, only to be softened into little brown pools of pleasure as I sheathed my cunt upon him.

He whined as I ground my hips down, my slick wetness coated his lower region and made delicious squelches; proof of my delight for this situation. Soon I was rising my hips and plopping back down at a rhythmic pace, feeling every inch of him glide in and out of my hole as I made it my mission to push him to the edge.

"F...fucking pervert," I whispered harshly in his ear, once again tugging at the dark roots of his hair. My breath was hot as my lips brushed against his neck, kisses short yet wet, "You like this don't you? Being degraded like this? Tell me, Innie, did you want me to catch you being so sinful?"

He lulled his head, a desperate cry left his lips. He shook his head yet his cheeks grew redder the more I spoke.

"N-no," Jeongin placed his hands over his features, blocking his wonderful lustful stares. I didn't like that; I wanted to see all of him. The way his eyebrows scrunched with every slap of our skin, I wanted to see his face contort from the fucking heat of it all.

"No? Really? I don't fucking believe you, Innie."

"You wanted me to catch you didn't you?" I moaned, the sound muffled against his skin.

I pulled his hands away from his face, venom ravaging my words as I spoke, "Do that again and I'll stop." His hands willingly fell, yet the lay partially limp; more delectable skin slapping, and slowly I could feel him writhe beneath me, desperate for release.

His hands gripped the bedsheets, his body leaned back against the wall behind his bed as I did most of the work. Little helpless moans occasionally left his mouth, his groans higher pitched than normal.

"Fuck... ah," I breathlessly moaned, reaching to grab his phone again and swipe at the photos, showing him every single one, "Does my pussy feel as good as you hoped? You nasty pervert... mh, you don't deserve, ngh, to cum."

Jeongin pleaded through wild cries, helpless whimpers to cum, eyes tearing as his hands gripped the sheet again. One hand rose to my waist, gently holding the skin there before I objected.

"Don't touch," I groaned, showing him the photos again, "Bad boys don't deserve to touch me. I'm teaching you a lesson."

"F-fuck me," I made out his moaning cry, the underwear beginning to slip from his jaw.

"Gonna cum... Please, please let me cum!" The underwear slipped from his mouth, falling on his thighs as I rode him endlessly. Drenched in drool and flimsily laying on his softly toned body, sticking to the warm sweat that shone on his skin. I bent my lips to his jaw, finding my lips lazily kissing him, egging him on further with my tired whimpers; just to watch his face scrunch helplessly.

"No, shut the fuck up before I muffle you again," I gritted my teeth, planting my lips on his neck and nibbling repeatedly, over and over, repeating the same spots on his skin in a relentless pattern. I wanted to see the bruises the next morning, I wanted to see him wince each time he'd accidentally touch it. A signal that I taught him some fucking manners.

"Ah, f-feels so good," Jeongin couldn't help anything that left his mouth, especially when you scolded him like that. Or showed him those nasty photos he's taken over the course of almost a year. Or even when you just looked at him like some kind of creep, yet your lust wouldn't let you maintain that look. It was always the best to him. He just loved the way you degraded him. In every way possible. He never knew you of all people would be such a deliciously hot dominant, but he sure as hell wasn't complaining.

"Too bad you're not gonna cum," I chuckled, my cunt clenching around him as I continued to bounce. He groaned at the feeling, eliciting a slew of deep groans and moans as I persisted in the same area.

Jeongin felt his stomach build up that lovely orgasm, he felt his arise. He just had no idea how to stop it. How to abide by your wishes. He truly was pathetic.

"I... you feel so- so fucking good," Jeongin arched his head back, knowing he had no choice but to cum. Then he felt my hips slow, my eyes on his as I smirked deviantly.

"Wha... why'd you slow down?" Jeongin whined, adjusting his body beneath mine to angle his dick upward. He pathetically thrusted up, hitting a sensitive part that I didn't want him to find.

I moaned and pushed him down into his mattress, halting his movements. My palms flat against his pectorals as I hissed in retaliation.

"Cut the shit," I scolded, enjoying his whines, "I said you're not coming. I mean it."

"Please, need you," Jeongin felt tears fill his eyes as your cunt clenched around him, yet there was no movements to enable that.

"Bad boys don't get rewarded," I scowled at the male, hands lacing in his hair while my lips peppered delicate kisses on his Adam's apple, then below his jaw. My hips slowly ground down, his tip delicately brushing against my walls and sensitive bits with every minute grind I made.

"I'll be good, please, wanna cum so bad."

"You'll be good, huh?" I smirked with a cocky sound in my voice, lips dragging to his lips but only kissing beside his parted mouth.

"Mhm, just let me cum, god, please," He begged, desperation and clear want in his voice.

I contemplated it for a second, "Eh, I was getting tired anyway. If you can make me cum I'll let you fill me up, how about that?" I breathed down on his face, lips pulling his own apart so my tongue could roam his mouth.

"Fuck, thank you," Jeongin groaned, deeply. His hands touched my hips, holding me as his overwhelmed face contorted again into more pleasurable pain.

"Let's see what your pathetic cock can do," I sat upright on him, watching as he began to thrust upward into me. Admittedly, my body felt so fucking good, especially when he hit that delicate little bundle of nerves in the deepest part of me. His hands found solace on my ass now that I finally let him touch me, his fingers pinching and squeezing at the fat. He would moan, loud and proud, without any of the previous shame he showcased before. I just knew he was eating this up; my feigned nonchalant attitude , my unbothered expression. He liked it.

I groaned, but his whines desperate whimpers were much, much louder. I wouldn't be surprised if another member of the dorms heard his mewling by now.

I felt the coil in my stomach build, slowly I synchronized our movements, grinding each time our hips met with a pornographic skin slap. My eyes fluttered but I forced them wide, stars clouded my vision.

"Ngh, I need to cum," Jeongin stated, pleading with me to release already so he could as well.

I chuckled, lips meeting his neck again and peppering slobbery, moist kisses along his skin.

"Not there yet," I teased into his ear.

He groaned, arching both his back and head back in disbelief. Jeongin's thrusts were deeper, harder and quick enough to the point where I could feel all of him. Every inch, every curve and every little quirk in his cock. I felt it all, and admittedly it felt so fucking divine.

Soon my climax was raging to be released, burning my thighs and insides, scrambling around my body and begging to be let out.

"Baby- fuck, please just cum! Can't hold it anymore!" Jeongin pleaded misty-eyed. His mouth wide, cheeks redder than an apple.

I whimpered, his cock's tip hitting my gspot stupidly fast over and over again. My eyes falling shut as I let my orgasm overtake me. The denial would've been too much to handle.

My cunt pulsated around his cock, sending his body into a whimpering, tasty mess. His sweaty hair clung to his forehead as he allowed his own to overtake as well. My cum leaked down his legs and my own meanwhile his cum shot into me, prolonging my climax by a few minor seconds.

"Fuck, fuck!! So damn good!" Jeongin bellowed between relentless moans, his hips drilling into my hole as he rode out that sweaty, desired high he's been aching for since the start.

Silence swept over us as we both left our blissful state, my head lulled onto his chest, still clothed by his shirt but promising sweat stains visible to my eyes. His lashes fluttered as he blinked, staring flat at the ceiling, post-nut clarity burdening his mind. I chuckled, slipping him out with a painful yet satisfying squelch. The sound made Jeongin snap out of his own mind, meeting my eyes.

"So... I hope that was better than your hand and my nonconsensual ass pics," I joked, enjoying the way his cheeks glowed red, eyes refusing to open anymore as he used his lovely hand to cover his mouth.

"Yes." A short yet definite answer.

"You gonna take any more of those?" I asked, fingers finding the collar of his shirt.

"N-no..."

"Boo, you're no fun," I kissed his neck, "If you do we can have some fun again." I whispered in his ear, already feeling his dick regain that overstimulating warmth, "Oh, someone's excited."

"Fuck...“

[egophiliac]

Um…hello! Your art is like a HUGE inspiration to me how you draw everyone is so unique, I love it! So I just wanted to ask what inspired you and your art to what it is today?

(hopefully I explained that correctly ;w;)

oh my gosh, thank you! :D :D :D I've been feeling pretty down about my art lately, so this was a super nice message to wake up to! one of the easiest traps to fall into is forgetting that other people are seeing your art without all the baggage and hangups that your brain has given it, and sometimes...they might actually like it? hmm. 🤔 (seriously though, that really is incredible to hear, thank you! 💕)

inspiration is really really hard to put into words. so I apologize if none of this makes sense! :') a lot of it comes from looking at things I like, trying to break down what it is that I like about them, and smooshing all those pieces together into some kind of amalgamated homunculus. I'll see something that uses a lot of straights vs curves, go "ooh", and then just start throwing those in there until it is fully absorbed into the gelatinous mess that is Developing An Artstyle. or I'll see some pretty soft-style shading, go "ooh", and then decide I'm not meshing with it and try something else. just, like, being open and trying different things and seeing what sticks, I guess!

overall, I would say I was mostly shaped by the Western media landscape of the early 2000s, when anime was becoming more mainstream and starting to show influence on Western cartoons; I think particular works that influenced me were Sailor Moon, Utena, the works of Takahashi Rumiko, Samurai Jack, Batman Beyond, and Bone. (there's also the French movie Princes et Princesses -- which is itself a homage to The Adventures of Prince Achmed -- which...yeah, you can basically take one look at it and see the effect it had on me.) and there are probably a lot of other things that I didn't consciously realize!

on a more philosophical level, one of my teachers once said to me that "the art that you like to look at isn't necessarily the art that you should be doing". which is something I try to hold onto! I had been trying really hard at the time to be, like, a more realistic traditional-style painter, and was getting really frustrated because that kind of art isn't fun for me to do. it wasn't until I gave myself permission to actually try out different things and not lock myself into what I thought was the kind of art I should be doing, that I realized I actually just like drawing little dudes making weird faces at each other! (I definitely still have some hangups about this, but I am getting better at it! ...I hope!)

[freeuselandonorris]

as a pretty much complete stranger to kinks I ask this with genuine and open curiosity: what is it with piss? like what's that kink all about? admittedly I've been wondering about it and I consider you my local expert on the matter (plus your writing has compelled me to enjoy things I never thought I'd dare to touch so I trust your judgement). is it like a marking/possessiveness thing? or a "that's Me" sort of idea? or something else entirely? I'd like to hear what appeals to you about it if you don't mind indulging me

omg anon if i don’t MIND! this is my dream ask lmao especially on a night where i need a good distraction ty 🙏

below the cut for anyone who followed me for the fanart and light romcom fic and not the hard kink 😭

okay SO. i think piss is one of those weird kinks where there’s a lot of different sub-kinks to it and a lot of motivations for it — like, there’s being pissed on/pissing on someone, there’s drinking it (incl forced drinking) which can also have sub-kinks like some people only like to drink “from the source” whereas others like it from glasses or funnels or bottles or don’t care at all. then you have wetting (pissing yourself, basically), which could be just doing it wherever, in certain clothes, in semi-public. there’s omorashi/desperation, some people really get off on the pain of being desperate and holding for hours. plus there’s stuff like diaper play which is very linked to the ‘little’ space and isn’t something i fuck w personally so i can’t comment on that. but basically what i’m saying is there’s no one motivation for people to be into it and different types of piss play will have different appeals, even to the same person.

personally i am generally pro most kinds piss but my real kink is wetting, specifically while fully-dressed and preferably in pale clothes so the wet patch shows up. that’s something i developed an interest in super early — i can remember being a kid and taking the opportunity to piss through my swimsuit after going to the pool lmao. i think the appeal there is the inherent wrongness of it; it’s very linked to shame, humiliation, degradation and also there’s a lot in there about doing things that are forbidden and go against social conditioning. it’s an insanely trippy feeling to do it in front of someone in particular, personally it’s honestly comparable to drugs in how much of an endorphin kick it gives me.

i do also love pissing on/being pissed on though! and that’s def more what you were mentioning about a sense of possessiveness, although for me it’s more linked again to humiliation, particularly when i’m bottoming for it. i’m a huge fan of bodily fluid play in general and there’s a lot in there about feeling marked, about being a receptacle for someone’s waste fluids, about being objectified — one of the hottest piss scenes i’ve ever experienced was a cnc scene where i had a pillowcase taped over my head and then that got pissed on without warning (we had this kind of play pre negotiated!) and there was something about the combination of being made ‘faceless’ and then that happening to me out of the blue 😵‍💫 there’s a kind of devotional aspect to it, like yes i WILL get on my knees and willingly cover myself in your piss because i adore every aspect of you!

andddd finally there’s just the sensory aspect of it! piss is hot and wet and that can feel really good on your skin when you’re turned on 🤷 and honestly if the person you’re drinking from is well hydrated it doesn’t taste or smell too bad, it’s just kinda salty and a bit umami… it kinda reminds me of miso soup at times lmao. if they’re not hydrated or they’ve had a lot of coffee/beer it can be a bit intense and honestly i have gagged and spat it out sometimes! but that’s kinda hot to me too 🤷

whew that was fun lmao. sometimes i feel like i should start a specific blog for this stuff bc i LOVE talking about it! ask me more kink stuff pls!! anyway anon i hope this kinda explained the appeal to you a bit, ty for the respectful and open minded q 🫡

[forwhump]

a/n: ;-; I feel a little silly introducing myself on a writing post but I feel sillier just starting to post my writing w/out any sort of introduction at all, so hi ! I’m Tina ! I’ve semi recently gotten introduced to the whump community because the content I create has been whump the whole time I just didn’t know it & thought I was alone in it !

now that I realize I’m not, I figured I might as well start posting my blurbs somewhere ! I don’t know if it qualifies as conventional whump, but is there such thing as conventional whump ? so what the hell

I put my two favourite oc’s through the horrors so often I have so much whump content w them & it’s just going to waste in my google docs & my notes app ! I’m chronically shy about posting my work online but I figured somebody out there might see this & maybe even like it so what’s the harm in sharing !

if you do see this & maybe even like it, yay ! I’m so glad ! thank you for even reading it <3

tw/cw for aftermath implied rape, mentions of being gutted

Wren has always been beautiful.

Silas had always thought so. Even at Wren’s worst, even when it wasn’t wholly appropriate to think. Silas had thought so since that very first day, since he was dragged into this place clawing and biting, since Wren had looked up at him from his place in the common room and smiled at Silas, sympathetic, as he was dragged into hell.

It was striking, even then, even disoriented and scared and confused. Wren was a bright spot, a glimmer of light in a bland, grey prisonscape. He’s beautiful like no other person Silas has ever seen, beautiful in a way reserved for the sunrise and the moon, so beautiful it actually gives him an eerie, kind of inhuman quality, even now, even still.

Wren has always been beautiful and Wren is beautiful still. But this —

There is nothing beautiful about this.

It’s ugly. It hurts something low in Silas’ chest.

It’s a film strip that’s been double exposed. Wren’s always been beautiful, and so particular about his hair; Wren has fairytale hair. It’s impossibly long, fairytale long, and the colour of snow, kinda, but he’s always so particular about it, he takes such good care of it, something that’s only his, something that belonged to him before this place, something they let him keep, and his hair always shimmers, perfect, iridescent. Silas has always found it kind of hypnotizing. Wren’s always so careful about how he braids it.

His hair is a mess. It had been pulled up into a ponytail with a piece of pink ribbon that’s gotten mostly lost in the tangles of his hair. Loose strands stick to his face, his throat, his waist, the insides of his thighs with tears, spit, sweat, semen, blood. He’s wearing some demeaning little pleated skirt, the same pale pink as the ribbon, and it’s short, it’s so short, and there’s so much visible skin that Silas can see almost every bruise, big and purple and splotchy and broken, like road rash. He can see all the blood tracked down the insides of his bruised thighs. He can see handprints. Tooth prints.

How is this happening? How did it get to this?

“Wren,” he hears himself say.

“Leave me alone.” His voice is the flattest Silas has ever heard it. He doesn’t lift his face from the carpet.

“Wren.” He doesn’t know what he’s gonna say. What can he say? He reaches a hand out, almost instinctive.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Wren —“

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Wren snaps, almost screams, and he finally lifts his head as he flinches away.

Most of the left side of his face is that same broken, road rash bruise. His mouth is swollen. His eyes, from crying. He doesn’t have hickeys, but proper, scabbing bite marks, bruising his jaw and his throat.

So much bruising. So much blood.

Silas knows what to do.

He struggles with that, sometimes.

Wren was allowed to keep his hair; Silas was, as well. It’s all Silas got to keep.

No part of Silas is the same as it was when he got here; no organ, no arterie. Silas isn’t human anymore, Silas is a weapon, but he tries, oh my god, he fuckin’ tries, if nothing else he tries, and he’s getting better, he thinks. He just struggles sometimes with human emotions, with feelings, thoughts, with what to do, what to say.

He knows now, though. What to do.

No part of Silas is really human anymore, but most of him is all still attached. His left leg, however, isn’t, and the replacement he’d been given, as a massive, inhuman superfreak, is heavy and deadly and fuckin’ uncomfortable. It pinches. Silas hates it almost more than anything. Unless he absolutely has to wear it, he gets around in his chair. It’s how he gets back to his room, where, without even a groan of displeasure, he makes quick work of his superfreak prosthetic.

On his own, he stands. Onto his chair, he piles one of his crewnecks, a favourite of Wren’s because of how cartoonishly large it fits him. Silas piles his comforter on top. From Wren’s room, he grabs his hairbrush and a pair of his joggers. Their clothing is the same dull grey as everything else in hell — prison grey, Silas thinks of it.

He limps his chair back to the common room. He folds the sweatshirt and joggers over the back, brush hooked in one hand as he holds open the blanket. “Okay,” he says. “Come.”

Wren’s head is down again. He’s right where they dumped him, a pile on the common room floor. “Leave me alone, Silas.”

Silas frowns. “No,” he says. “Come. I won’t touch.”

Slowly, Wren lifts his head. He blinks up at Silas with huge, wet eyes. “What?” He says, less sharp but a bit more broken. “What are you doing?”

Silas shakes the blanket at him. “Come.”

He isn’t expecting the way Wren’s face crumples, or the way he sobs. Softly, he says, “Wren?”

Wren turns his face away, but when he sobs, he sobs, “Silas.”

Folding the blanket and the brush back onto his chair, Silas limps around it to slowly, awkwardly maneuver himself onto the carpet next to Wren. Within reaching distance, but he’s careful not to touch.

Wren doesn’t lift his face and sobs into the carpet.

Slowly, Silas lies down, on his back next to him. He reaches out, he doesn’t touch, but he invites, and without looking at him Wren shifts into his arms and sobs into Silas’ shoulder.

Silas covers his back with a massive, gentle hand and lets him cry.

He cries for a long time.

Eventually, his sobs soften to sniffles and the hitching of his back slows under Silas’ hand. He says, into Silas’ grey sweatshirt, “I didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“Why?” Silas asks.

Wren’s chest hitches. His voice cracks when he says, “I’m disgusting.”

He frowns. “You’re not disgusting.”

Wren hiccups out a sob.

“Wren,” Silas says, “you’ve held my organs inside my body for me. This is nothing.”

He sobs again.

Silas thumbs slowly across his back, over the stiff, ripped material of his shirt. “Let me take care of you this time, Wren,” he says. “Please.”

“You shouldn’t have to take care of me,” he says softly.

“I don’t,” Silas says. “I want to.”

Wren’s small fist curls into Silas’ crewneck. Into his chest, he whispers, “they really hurt me, Silas.”

“I’ll take care of them,” Silas promises. He already knows how he’ll do it. It won’t be slow but it will be painful. “Let me take care of you first.”

Wren doesn’t answer him, but he nods into Silas’ shoulder.

Softly, Silas asks, “can I pick you up?”

He nods again.

Gratefully, gently, Silas lifts Wren into his arms and from there, into his chair. He pulls the grey blanket around his shoulders and Wren sinks into it gratefully.

The bathroom is cold, and the water doesn’t get hot, but it gets warm, so Silas runs it warm before he limps across the bathroom to gather an armful of towels. He held Wren to his feet, and leaves the towels in his place.

“You don’t have to do this,” Wren says softly.

“So?” Silas says.

He blinks up at him, a bit taken aback.

Supporting most of Wren’s weight, Silas says, “do you want my help getting undressed or do you want me not to touch you?”

Wren blinks up at him again, sniffling. “Would you help me?” He asks, so soft he’d barely spoken.

“I’ll do anything you ask me to,” Silas answers.

Wren makes a soft sound, and Silas is careful not to touch any of the bruises as he bumbles through small buttons and zippers with huge hands. He helps Wren out of his ruined skirt and into the lukewarm water. Silas doesn’t undress, but he follows him in, letting Wren lean hard against him as he lathers a washcloth he hands to him before getting to work untangling his hair.

It’s a careful few hours of effort, because Wren has so much hair and it’s so matted, caked with blood, grime, semen.

Silas is meticulous. He brushes it out. Washes it. He isn’t a great braider yet, but June had been teaching him the basics, and he can struggle his way through a sloppy French braid. He tugs the elastic out of his own hair to tie it off, and once he’s done, Wren turns to look up at him and he’s crying again.

“Wren?” He says.

And Wren surges forward, pushing his face into the hollow of Silas’ sternum, arms tight around his waist.

“Thank you,” he whispers into his wet sweatshirt.

Silas cradles the back of his head with one hand. “It’s okay,” he says.

In truth, he would die for Wren in a heartbeat. This is nothing.

[chubs-deuce]

Hi!! Love your artwork and your Charlastor AU with Dawn!!

I was wondering if you think Alastor would make any dawn-themed dad jokes and puns in your AU, and if he does, what would Dawn and Charlie think of them? I can’t really think of any off the top of my head right now, but I know ‘a brand new dawn’ is a phrase he could maybe use!

Again, love your art!!! If you don’t mind answering questions about it, do you have any advice for artists who want to improve their drawing or any practices that have helped you develop your skills? And are there any particular artists that really inspire you?

You’re one of my favorite artists and I don’t know how to explain it but your drawings have so much life in them!! 🌟

sdlksdflkj thank you so much omg!!!

I'm so glad you're enjoying them ;W;

And he would be insufferable with them lmfaoo, especially because I'm sure Charlie would hop in on a few of them and add to the pile as well xD

One more I can think of rn is "Oh, I was wondering where the sun went!" whenever Dawn enters a room, because the implied punchline is "but then it Dawned on me" or something? XD idk I'm not good with puns sadly

Now regarding the art advice!! This one got HELLA long so I'll hide it under a cut for everyone's comfort lmao

I know it sounds shallow and like worthless advice, but a huge huuuuge part of getting better at art is to just... make art! Practice makes perfect - it develops your motor skills, gives you somewhat of a muscle memory for certain basic shapes that are a necessity to have a good feel of for good foundation sketching.

Practice also develops your eye for compositing and for how color theory actually applies in practice, it basically helps you develop a more consistent grasp on art as a whole :D

There are some things I've learned over time that definitely helped speed things up though xD

here's some rough sketches I did just to demonstrate what my rougher drawings can look like - also a little diagram (on the right side of the image) of things I keep in mind for the average proportions of a human body!

I tend to sketch very loosely and try to capture the overall vibe and silhouette/rough shapes first before I even think about adding details - there's a certain flow, squish and stretch to everything that's just much easier for me to get a good feel for when I use quick, loose brush strokes and as few lines as possible to convey a concept.

Repeatedly sketching humanoid characters of various shapes, builds and sizes for years genuinely helped enormously in getting not only faster but also more consistent with it!

I'm fairly well practiced with hands and expressions especially at this point since I like to focus on those in my art often, so those come fairly easily to me as well now!

Something I learned along the way about keeping a certain liveliness to my artworks is that sometimes you have to forego anatomical correctness a bit if you want to fully express specific emotions - if you try too hard to keep everything perfectly proportional and realistic, it can make the outcome look stiffer than you might've aimed for - this is something I actually struggle with in my cleaner artworks :'D The ones I do proper lineart for, since a lot of the flow of the original sketch gets lost in the process haha

As for artists/artstyles that inspire me...

There's @/southpauz for example!

Her artstyle is unbelievably expressive and her eye for compositing and her use of shapes is SUBLIME - it inspired me to let loose more with my expressions, exaggerate features a bit more and to push the way I try to vary facial features :D

Then, back when I had that massive Rise of the TMNT phase, the artstyle of it has actually greatly influenced how I draw today!

It manages to be detailed and highly recognizable despite its deceivingly simple style - it exaggerates shapes and uses it to communicate personalities, emotions and action super effectively and taught me a lot about utilizing those more efficiently myself :D

And last but not least Ishida Sui - the mangaka behind Tokyo Ghoul (which used to be a highschool obsession of mine)

His striking use of colors, textures in abstract, yet symbolically heavy ways and his courage to be rough and expressive rather than looking polished, yet also having such a solid understanding of realism blew me the fuck away as a teen and still does now!!!

His art may have less of an influence on my style today than it used to back then, but I think in my more exagerrated, more horror-esque drawings you can kind of see it still :'D Either way I greatly admire him as both a writer and artist.

-----

I'm genuinely so so flattered that you enjoy what I do enough to give me such high praise, thank you so much for writing me such a wonderful ask <3 I'm glad I got to gush about some of my favorite artists/artstyles for a bit haha

If you have any more specific (digital) art related questions don't hesitate to reach out!! I love giving pointers about a subject I'm so passionate about, we don't gatekeep helpful information in this house!!! <3<3<3

[phlurrii]

Out of curiosity, what does the psychic cat fam exactly do out there? (This doesn’t have to be exclusive to just now, also could have been just Meau, Noe, and Mew) Aside from vibing. They live in a paradise where food isn’t a concern and nothing with a brain would try to hurt them. Do they play fight? Teach the youngin’s their future jobs? Have games? Maybe some swipped books to read? Explore the world outside of their tree for funsies? See who can steal as many goodies from human society without getting caught?

I know it’s silly but I like the “filler” of things. To think about what characters are doing when the “plot” isn’t being progressed. It’s part of why I like the slice-of-life genre from time to time. Life isn’t always an adventure or fight against some opposing force, but it can still be fun!

I agree, I’m honestly a bit upset with myself, given how long each update takes I never noticed I wasn’t adding in enough filler. Something I plan to fix once we’re in Noe’s arc, as we are sadly, or luckily? Way too close to beginning it to shove any sudden filler in. For now I’m blaming it on first time story telling and having to do art school on the side X3

As for the gang, Meau did fly a little bit off the handle due to not having a lot of stimulation when she was younger before Noe showed up. As for what they did/do, for reasons that’ll become clear later; they mostly talked in the early days!

She would show off her creations, abilities, transformations, and forming ecosystems to him. He would ask about as many questions as one would with a new world and she thrived off it. They would watch other Pokémon’s life in secret like it was a soap opera, sometimes intervening to make it more interesting or admittedly have it lean towards the ending they wanted. Usually betting and taking opposing sides as to what would happen.

Battling is a particular big one for Meau, she loves to get down and dirty with other legendaries and mythicals even if she has the power advantage. Most often fighting with her brothers, she wouldn’t be above transforming into the Pokémon she was fighting to even out the playing field, or even change her type so she was inherently weaker to it. It’s why she’s never been against human with their Pokémon battles, battling is an innate part of her creations and herself.

Missingno. on the other hand loves to explore, even with his age, he knows the world is in a constant state or change and ventures off on his own to explore it. He’s not nearly as against humans as Meau and has explored their cities and settlements. Most intrigue by their computers/technology nowadays and how he’s able to to interact with them. Meau has explored with him on occasion, but prefers to stay away.

I’d also imagine they like to race in very difficult conditions. High up in the atmosphere or just outside in the actual vacuum of space. Deep in the ocean, forcing them to make their own path through rock and stone. Which probably pisses off the weather trio invading all 3 of their areas, but that leads perfectly into the next one.

They love to piss off the other legendaries, because… well, what can they do?

There has been more then on tropical storm, tsunami, volcanic eruption, and general disaster caused by the Ancients pestering another powerful legend. Lastly, they sleep, if the current time is too boring, peaceful, or simply there is nothing to do that interests them… they’ll sleep for a couple thousand years.

As for more current day stuff, it’s much tamer since Bucket was taken, Meau woke up from a much needed thousands years nap to a very different world. Humans had well established themselves even further, technology exists, and they can clone/create pokemon. So she is staying in the tree with her suddenly growing family, just to watch. She wants to know what everything’s up too from a distance given they’ve somehow managed to trap and almost kill another mew, make a Mewtwo, and possibly a second one.

So she’s just always watching human society from the tree, whilst also teaching and nurturing Odysseus. He spends more of his time exploring the tree and occasional testing out powers. With Meau’s assistance. The trees massive and filled with Pokémon, so he’s got quite the endless bit of entertainment. Decamark is the newest edition and thus follows a lot of what Ody does! Though Noe has been poking them, figuratively, with a stick to figure out what he’s capable of.

[beiq2y]

OMG, GOTTA SAY I LOVE UR HC, thank u for that!! would love to see another sae's headcanon from your POV or just sae being whipped in general /jk

HELLO OMGG THANKU SM FOR THIS REQ!! I saw ur reblog and i love ur mind sm?? It was literally exactly what i had in mind for him😭 The moment i saw this i literally dashed to write and i finished this in like an hour at 12am i was so excited stop. Also ik u said headcanons but i couldn’t help myself HE’S SO 😍 hope u enjoy this too!!

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SAE ITOSHI CUDDLING HEADCANONS¡! ❞

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-> based off my prev sae headcanon here

-> warnings - a bit steamy? Idk they kiss and i describe it HAHAH. Sae is so down bad, also horrible attempts of humour by me

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; gosh where do i begin,,

; HE IS DEFO AN “i hate everyone but you” TYPA GUY

; he loves lying on top of you, forget whether you’re half or even twice his size, my man will just plop himself on top of u

; he is so done w all his teammates i swear

; absolute MENACE.

; rants about each of his teammates in such detail you wonder how he even managed to focus on football with the time he must’ve spent wishing he could murder his teammates

; he probably rests his face on your chest and when there is that ONE particular teammate, he snuggles his face into the crook of your neck and groans

; pls pat his head and just smile and nod when he does that

; try to defend any of his teammates I DARE YOU.

; “what do you mean that wasn’t really his fault?? Are you implying he doesn’t actually deserve to accidentally stumble into a razor and get his hair shaved off??”

; he can't stay angry at you tho.. he may even actually consider taking that guy off his “top 1000 men i wish would fall into a hole” list

; ANYW PLS SHUT HIM UP I SWEAR

; all it takes is for you to caress his face and a slight kiss on his forehead for my man to completely forget everything gosh

; he blushes. 

; It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve gone through this exact routine, he becomes the same shade as his hair and buries his face in ur neck it’s so cute stop😭

; after a while he does come back to kiss you again tho, but my man is honestly so down horrendous it’s crazy

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Sae itoshi’s favourite part of the day was when he could finally go home.

Not because he could finally take a nice warm shower or because he could finally get his well-deserved sleep - no, none of that. 

More than anything, it’s because he knew that was where you would be waiting for him.

 You, who would without a doubt be waiting for him on your shared bed, a warm smile flitting across your face when he makes his appearance. You, who would welcome him with open arms, the words “welcome home” sounding like honey to him when they came out of your mouth. And finally you, who made his life just a little bit easier when you were around, his eyes lighting up the moment he spots you. He tries his best not to show it of course, but the way the corners of his lips perk up never fails to escape your gaze, a small giggle falling from your lips.

And with that, sae is quick to be by your side. He holds himself back just the right amount to ensure he doesn’t hurt you with the way he flops onto you. With a deep sigh, he finally lets go off all the tension he’s been holding in, all the stress and pressure dissipating with your touch. 

Well, certainly not all of them that’s for sure. 

He slowly but surely wraps his arms around your body, pulling you close as he snuggles closer to you, while you brace yourself for the worst. 

“Hi love,” he mutters, looking up to face you from where he lies on your chest. “Today wasn’t that bad. Well, it could’ve been better if that idiot-“

Ah, there he goes again. 

His daily venting session.

Maybe it was just a sae itoshi thing, but somehow, without fail, this man always managed to have something new to rant about every. Single. Day.

If it wasn’t guy A it would be guy B. If it wasn’t guy B, it would be guy C, and hell, sometimes it would be all of them. Really, no one was safe from the venomous words of sae itoshi. 

Oh well, everyone but you of course.

But even if you were saved from his harsh words, it didn’t necessarily mean that you particularly enjoyed hearing him rant about others. And as such, you slowly bring your hand up to his face, and with a gentle caress, you relish in the way he almost instantly shuts his mouth, all previous complaints dying down in his throat, his raging flame of anger being reduced to a small simmering flame. 

In a final attempt to put out the fire inside him, you brings your lips to his forehead, the flame instantly reduced to embers. 

However, it isn’t long before another flame surfaces, sae’s cheeks being dusted a bright red as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. It isn’t long before he pushes himself up on his arms however, caging you beneath him as he begins. First, a kiss to the forehead. Second, a small peck of his lips to your right cheek, and then the left. Third, his lips travel to your eyelids, forcing them to close with the gentle touch. And finally, he presses his lips to yours. You can feel yourself slowly melt into him, hands wrapping around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, to feel more of him. 

After a while, he pulls away to breathe, all thoughts of his irritating teammates being washed away, replaced with only you, you and you.

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©beiq2y on tumblr, 2022. pls do not copy or steal my works!

[coldgoldlazarus]

One of the arguments about any sort of long-running media franchises/series, that almost always instantly raises my guard and calls into suspicion anything else the person making that argument has to say, is "the older stuff was better and everything after X point has been worthless dogshit with no redeeming value."

It's not like this is an alien perspective to me, either. I've been there, I get it. Where My Little Pony is concerned, I think I will always be at least a little bit of a seasonwunner, despite my best efforts. But this is a mindset that must be actively fought back against, and even if I can't really bring myself to watch the last few seasons, I recognize it's not that the show got worse, it just had different priorities there than what appealed to me about it originally.

And sure, sometimes stuff does just objectively shit the bed after a certain point. But honestly, I think that happens most when a series stops trying to explore new ideas, and falls back on shallow pandering fanservice about the earlier beloved entries. Looking at you, Rise Of Skywalker.

So point is, I do get where the mindset comes from, but it's still an extremely toxic impulse that I think needs to be confronted and dismantled with maturity and perspective. And talking with people who have failed to do that, and don't seem remotely interested in trying, is my personal hell.

But probably the most baffling instances of this mindset are when someone is like "everything before this point was good and everything after this point is bad!!!" but the actual argument makes no sense. Everything you say you hate didn't start after this arbitrary point, it started with the ones you uphold as the best in the series. If instance Y and Z are apparently utterly dogshit writing, why are you giving it a pass with instances W and X? It isn't even the repetition or differences in execution that seems to be the problem, it's just that it was good because it was before this arbitrary cutoff point, but bad because it was after it! (One especially galling example of this hypocricy was where the cutoff point between the 'last good' entry and 'first bad' one was between two releases... that came out simultaneously. Make it make sense.) Or else just pretending that this thing you dislike started later than it did and outright ignoring its presence in those earlier entries.

Like yeah, you are entitled to your feelings, at the end of the day; like I said, I get it to some extent at least. But if you're going to try to argue your feelings as some sort of objective fact about the quality of the series, at least put together a coherent and internally consistent argument. Or else, really reexamine if the reasons you're giving are the actual reasons, and it's not just nostalgia talking. Maybe the older entries don't hold up to your particular sensibilities as much as you think. Or maybe, you're refusing to give the newer ones a fair shake and reading them in bad faith.