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#sorry this is all the art you get for now
fushitoru · 1 day
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i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE!
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pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) boy next door!gojo x reader, wrestler!toji x reader, gym trainer!sukuna x reader, pizza delivery boy!choso x reader, husband's boss!nanami x reader, perv on train!geto x reader
summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! inspired by this awesome post by the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3
warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), consent is pre-established in all scenarios (but dub con just in case), everyone is of age (or older), exhibitionism, infidelity in nanami’s, pussy drunk men lol, not edited (as always), cowgirl, missionary, creampies, VERY public sex in toji’s, art by 3-aem, lmk if I’ve missed anything!
a/n lolll i'm ngl this was so fun to write. some of these scenarios are so funnny hELP. this one is also for some of the anons who are so obsessed w choso and sukuna in bridgerton au. wrote them for you 🫡 choso’s is my fav hehe
general masterlist
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SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ HOTTIE'S PERSONAL TRAINER HAS A VERY HANDS ON APPROACH!
“Brat!” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Watch your back. You’re supposed to be hinging your hips back, not whatever lazy shit you were doing.”
He steps around to your side, the heavy thud of his boots on the gym floor adding to the oppressive weight of his presence. Squatting down, he sets his hips back in one smooth motion, demonstrating with sharp precision. “Like this. Not whatever the fuck that was.”
You glance at him, your legs trembling under you. Sweat clings to your skin, a thin sheen that feels heavy after the grueling thirty minutes with your personal trainer. Sukuna definitely takes the "tiger mom" approach, every tattoo on his body echoing the sharp, uncompromising authority in his eyes. Right now, those eyes bore into you, narrowed with impatience, his hands on his hips. His scowl is practically carved into his face—stone-hard and unmoving.
Breathing hard, you slump forward, hands gripping your knees as you gasp for air. Your heartbeat drums loudly in your ears. “Sukuna, g-give me a sec. I just—fuck—” You can barely string a sentence together between gulps of air. “I just maxed out. My legs are literally shaking.”
Sukuna clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, but his voice softens—just a little. “Fine. Catch your breath. But as you do that, let’s practice proper form.”
You nod exhaustedly, not being able to think very clearly. Wiping the sweat to prevent it from getting into your eyes, you put your legs hip width apart as Sukuna gets behind you to observe your form. You bend down, trying to sit back onto your hips as best as possible, but as soon as your ass grazes Sukuna’s crotch, you lose the form in your back in surprise. “Sorry—”
“That was wrong.” Sukuna’s voice is in your ear as he puts his hands on your hips, and you are dizzy with the contact. “Here.” Both of you squat down, Sukuna’s hard body moving right behind you, and at the lowest position, Sukuna’s thumb roves over the fat of your ass, and they leave your hips to trace up your back. “Your back should be neutral, otherwise you’re going to hurt yourself.”
“O—okay,” you breathily reply, dizzy with the way he was touching you. If you listened closely, it almost sounded as if you were whimpering. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like Sukuna was more observant than you had hoped because he was looking at you in suspicion, eyes raking up and down your figure to observe your appearance. Disheveled, chest rising rapidly, sweat dripping right in the middle of your breasts—
Sukuna, out of nowhere, grabs your hand and begins walking away. “Come with me. You’re not doing them right.”
Soon, you’re led into one of the gym’s stretching rooms—the private ones, the ones meant for Sukuna to help you after the workout. 
“Sukuna, what are we—” you breathlessly ask, but you’re quickly shushed by Sukuna as he hoists himself on the massage table.
“Come here,” he motions to his lap, and you wordlessly follow his directions, sitting directly on top of his lap, gasping as you realize there’s a bulge making contact with your pussy. “We’re going to try an alternative way of doing squats, one that involves a bit more cardio.” He pulls down his sweatpants, blushing, furious cock springing out as he pulls down your yoga pants.
Soon, you’re moaning as you slowly take in his cock, sliding down as his precum and your copious amount of slick mix and drip onto his pelvis. Your feet are on either side of his legs, making you squat every time you lower yourself down on his length.
“Fuck! You’re so tight.” He slaps your ass as you bounce yourself rapidly on his cock. “Pretended to not know how to squat just for me to put this fat cock in you, isn’t that right?”
You didn’t have the capacity to answer, just moan as his cock hits your spot. Unsatisfied with your pace, Sukuna flips you both over until your back is on the table. 
“Oh fuck yea,” Sukuna pants, hips pistoning into you rapidly, effectively fucking you into the table, and his quads are bulging in sheer strength as they clench and unclench in reflection of his pleasure. “Didn’t know my client had such a sweet pussy.”
KAMO CHOSO ⸺ SHE ORDERS BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA AND GETS HER DEEP DICK CRAVINGS FILLED! (the title is so ridiculous im crying)
“Your total’s $14.93. You’re five bucks short.” The delivery boy—an emo looking guy with hair in space buns—responds to the wad of cash and coins you had just given him. He couldn’t look any less bored than he was as he stared down impassively at you, hot, steaming pizza in one hand.
"Wait, but I ordered a small?" You ask him in confusion. "I couldn't possibly finish a large one by myself!"
He pulls out your receipt from where it was tucked into the pizza box. "Your order said a large." Upon glancing on it, you look that he was indeed correct—right next to your pizza, the size LARGE glared at you through the sheen of the reciept's paper.
"Oh," You said, dumbly, blinking in confusion. "Well, I can pay the rest in card if that's okay."
You get an impassive "I don't have a card reader."
"Oh, okay," you laugh nervously, hand going up to scratch the back of your head and fiddle with the rest of your fingers. "Okay, well," you squinted at his nametag, "Choso, let me just check the remaining cash I have. You can come inside if you'd like." 
He comes inside, dropping off the pizza you ordered on your kitchen counter as he makes his way to sit on your couch. You go to your bedroom, checking your desk drawer for any loose cash you may have stored but to no avail. Heart racing and nervous, you frantically search the upper shelf of your room, on your tiptoes as you look for your money jar, praying that there was a 5 dollar piece of cash lying around. Instead, your fingers crash against some book propped on it, tumbling down onto the floor with a large thud!
You hear footsteps coming up to your bedroom door. Choso, standing near the door. "You good?"
"Yea," you strain, still reaching up high to grasp at the jar. "I'm just trying to find somethi—”
The heat of Choso's body surrounds you as he presses closer to you, reaching up effortlessly to grab at the money jar. His groin presses against your backside, acutely aware of his breaths as he passes you the jar. 
Which is empty.
"Fuck!" you curse. You turn, looking at Choso in anxiousness, as you notice he hasn't backed away at all. "I'm sorry, but is there any alternative way to pay for the pizza? Again, I'm really really sorry for the hassle."
"You have to pay for the food in some sort of way," he says with a stony face. Your mind is racing, thinking of ways you could pay but coming up short.
As a result, you end up with your face stuffed against your pillow, the hot delivery boy plowing and drilling his cock into you. 
"Fuck, so irresponsible. Couldn't even pay for the pizza she ordered without a stranger's cock inside of her." At his dirty talk, you whimper and squeeze his pussy, Choso groaning as a result.
"What was that?" He grabs your hair and pulls your face up as his tongue traces the frame of your ear. "What were you trying to say, you cockslut?"
"'M sorry!" You squealed and babbled, eliciting little ah! ah! ah!'s as he continues bumping his cockhead against the gooey spot inside your pussy.
"Yea, you better be. Wasting my fucking time. I'm going to come inside, got it?" Choso growls as he continues pistoning his hips inside.
GETO SUGURU ⸺ ANIME GIRL GETS HER PUSSY FINGERED ON PUBLIC TRAIN!
He pulls you in for a deep kiss while rutting inside you. "Aren't you my good girl? Taking this cock for me like a good girl?" You squeal, blabbering nonsense as he fucks you into next Tuesday…
You read the smut from your favorite author on Tumblr, devouring each word while remaining stony faced as the train rocked underneath your feet. In the corner facing the doors, you made sure that you were angled in such a way that no one would be able to see the filthy things you were reading on your screen. 
However, the metro was slowing down and you looked up quickly—which was painful, considering you were so invested in the story—to make sure it wasn't your stop. As the rush of foot traffic simultaneously populated and vacated the metro, you paid no attention to the people behind you. After all, other people would be too busy on their phones to see what you were reading, right?
"You're going to take this cum, right? I'm going to breed you, my sweet, sweet girl." He laughs.  You take a moment to take in his pretty features. Long hair, beautiful face, all filled with lust for you...
You scan the words, blush evident on your face as your favorite writer has done it yet again. Adjusting, you squeezed your thighs for relief and toyed with the hem of your skirt, failing to notice the soft breaths trailing down the back of your neck just because of how enthralled and taken you were with the plot.
And then, a hand trailed up your thigh, catching you by alarm. You almost drop your phone in your rush to turn and look at the creep that was touching you, ready to beat the shit out of him. 
But when you do turn, you stop and widen your eyes. The man in front of you seems even prettier than the fictional man you were reading about, and you take him in as he rubs circles on your thigh. His sultry eyes rake down your figure, his lips pulled back in a knowing smirk. "That's some filthy shit you're reading."
Looking at him, your heart starts beating faster solely because of the promise of what his hands would do as they were currently softly stroking your thighs, getting closer and closer to going under your shirt. "I—I—uh sorry—I—"
"It's okay, pretty girl." He gives you a kiss on the side of your neck. "Continue reading it. Can you do that, baby?"
You nod, not trusting your voice. Coincidentally, you're at the part where the man helps the girl masturbate, rubbing and teasing her pussy up and down. The man behind you does the same, teasing your lips while refusing to delve inside your panties, no matter how badly you want him to do.
"That feel good?"
You whimper. "Yes—ah—it feels good. Please touch me on my pussy directly. Please."
The man behind you chuckles, and your knees buckle at how rich his voice is. You would join a cult for this man. "Since you asked so nicely, I will. Call me Suguru."
His fingers pull your panties aside and enters, soon knuckle deep inside your cunt, and as quietly as you can, you moan his name as he continues fingering you in front of all the strangers on the train. His hips press closer to your ass, and you throb even more at the huge bulge he’s sporting. He’s sloppily licking on the outside of your ear, right where you’re sensitive, and you shiver and lose yourself in the pressure even more.
The pleasure was building in you steadily and Suguru groans. “That’s right, take it all.”
You almost jump when the PA sounds. "The next stop is Shinjuku."
“That’s my stop. You have to cum before then, or you won’t be able to cum,” Suguru whispers in your ear, speeding up and hitting your g-spot with precision. There are tears forming in your eyes as you make an effort to stay quiet, especially with Suguru giving seductive kisses to your sensitive neck. 
“Fuck, you got so tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum?” He uses his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, and you see stars. 
“I will—I will,” you cry, as the throbbing and pulsing sensation grows faster and faster until finally, you cum with a muffled cry, because Suguru has his fingers in your mouth to ensure you don’t scream out on this very, very public train.  “Squeezing my fingers so much, relax,” Suguru laughs, popping his slick-coated fingers in his mouth. “You gonna do that to my dick next?”
NANAMI KENTO ⸺ BEAUTIFUL WIFE HAS TO FUCK HER HUSBAND'S BOSS! (NTR)
“Mr. Nanami,” you scrape a hand through your hair and clear your throat. “You wanted to see me?” 
For a moment, your husband’s handsome boss eyes you down, catching on the top button of your blouse currently unbuttoned. You mainly did it because of nervousness, the heat of the room escalating with Nanami Kento’s presence. After a long bout of intimidating silence, he finally speaks. “I assume you can guess why you are here?”
You bounce your knee as you sit across from the man, and you suddenly start sweating. Of course you can guess. Your bum of a husband—the one currently under your charge—neglects to do his deliverables, choosing to take comfort in the fact that you were his higher-up to trust that he would not be getting terminated for his lack of responsibility. 
But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been begging Nanami not to fire him, despite the propelling and clear reasons to do so. And you fear the day he finally chooses to stop listening to you. 
“Team leader, I’m going to need much more convincing. Your team has been decreasing in productivity ever since your husband joined, and it’s hindering the company,” he reminds you stoically. “I’ve seen you working overtime far too frequently to cover up for your spouse’s negligence.”
You wish time would speed up just to get this difficult conversation with. “I—I’m going to be honest, Mr. Nanami. I don’t have much warrant to continue having him on the team, but it would put my family in much…emotional conflict if this were to happen.” The said emotional conflict would really only be from your husband. You’re sure he’s going to take this as an excuse to drink himself silly, blaming you for not being able to keep him employed. Your throat dries as you finally meet eyes with your boss, silently pleading him to come up with a solution.
“I see.” Nanami crosses his arms. “I suppose there is a…favor you could do for me.”
At that, you perk up and nod your head frantically. “Of course. Anything.”
Which is why you find yourself bent over Nanami’s desk, his cock drilling inside you. He’s ripped your stockings, pulled up your miniskirt, and put your panties to the side as he moans about how sweet your pussy feels. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. Tell me, is my cock better than his?”
“It is!” you squeal. “You’re so—so big!”
Nanami moans as he ruts inside you, your walls squeezing him tight. “Darling, I c—can tell he doesn’t treat you right. You are so tight around me, pussy’s been waiting for a while for a real man.” 
You moan and curse, blabbering affirmations while his dick impales you. Even though Nanami is the one who’s owed the favor here, his hands wind their way around your body to rub at your clit, simulating you even more, making you sob. “Please don’t stop!”
“I won’t ever, sweetheart,” he pants. “I’m going to finish inside her, okay? Make sure to keep it in when you go home and greet your husband.”
FUSHIGURO TOJI ⸺ BABE GETS IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED IN NAKED WRESTLING (WITH AN AUDIENCE)
Cheers surround you as you step into the arena. You know who your opponent is—-Fushiguro Toji. Even when you looked at his pictures earlier, you knew you were doomed. No matter what angle the photographer took the photos in, his muscles seemed to be bulging, effectively spelling out the sore defeat you were about to face today.
And there he is. Him in the flesh. He’s leaning against the boxing ring’s outer borders, head tilted back lazily while his manager, Shiu, was informing him quickly (and intensely) about the rules of today.
Nothing crazy. Only fuck when all clothes are off of her.
The way his neck is tilted back, compression shirt showing off his upper physique made you weak in the knees already. Additionally, judging based off of the bulge he seemed to be sporting in his grey sweatpants, you knew you were doubly fucked.
Shiu seems to be done talking, so he steps back and takes a seat. Toji leans his head back, rolling his neck to stretch it out, and in the middle of doing so, catches your eye.
You almost drench your panties.
His eyes darken, giving you a sultry look as he cheekily winks. While his cocky demeanor was warranted (he was much stronger and bigger than you), your cheeks heated up in both arousal and irritation.
The sound of a whistle is heard as music starts to play. The stadium’s screens flashes the cocky image of Toji, who saunters in the middle of the ring, flexing his muscles to his screaming fans.
When your signature theme plays, you do the same, to no shortage of fans yourself. You can feel everyone in the stadium, especially your male fans, rove over your figure. You’re wearing a very low cut top that displays the swell of your boobs and even tighter shorts that squeeze your ass and show off the shape of your pussy. As you walk towards Toji, you can feel his heavy gaze on you as you nervously shake his hand.
“Try to last long, okay?” Toji smirks, patting your shoulder. “I’ll try to drag this out as much as I can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”
You glare at him, but there’s not much intensity there. “Yea, yea,” you huff. “For all I know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”
And the fucker’s smile widens. “Let the games begin.”
Soon enough, the sound of the whistle draws you towards each other, keeping each other in a lock to tackle the other down in an objective to take off layers of their clothing. Your fans cheer when you have Toji underneath you for a split second, only for female ones to become more riotous as he easily overtakes you, pins your hands down, and wrenches your shorts off of you.
“Toji is currently in the lead!” The announcer’s voice in the stadium echoes of your defeat as you flail around, now bottoms only covered by your panties. Deciding to pull out your signature move, you maneuver so your thighs surround Toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. This momentarily distracts and weakens Toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. You quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. The whole stadium, in fact, can his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.
Your attention is back to Toji as he chuckles darkly. “You’re going to regret that. I was going to drag this out, princess, but I gotta fuck the brat out of you.” With that, he puts his whole body weight on you and strips you down one by one.
The arena cheers as your lace bra is uncovered, your sweat shining on the screen as your breasts are displayed. Toji then unhooks your bra, and the roars get even louder as your tits pop out. He takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “What a sensitive girl,” he coos. “Too bad she was too weak. Now she’s going through to have to take my cock.
With that, he finally unveils your glistening pussy for all eyes to see and the crowd goes wild, chanting for Toji to finish inside you. Toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees and pulls down his pants.
You don’t look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.
“Fuck.” And Toji’s slowly entering you, the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “The fuck this pussy’s so tight for? Thought you were a slut?”
You’re tearing up, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “You’re not turning me on, small dick.”
He did not like that very much.
Toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “Yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? Why is she dripping? Just for that, I’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.”
The crowd chants cum, cum, cum! and Toji just does that. Ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear Toji declared as winner.
GOJO SATORU ⸺ GIRL GETS FUCKED BY PEEPING TOM NEXT DOOR!
You sigh, extending your back and un clipping your bra, letting your tits bounce free after a long, long week of college. It was finally Friday night, and with no one in the house due to a party the rest of your family was attending, you could finally enjoy your time home on the holidays, starting with a solo session.
You clench your thighs in anticipation as you scrolled your phone, seeking an audio you could masturbate to. And you were close to finding one, until you felt eyes on you.
These eyes were nothing new. The boy next door, Gojo Satoru, has also been your crush since middle school. Even though neither of you have ever made a move, you’ve made bold moves since starting college, stripping with the blinds open to give him a show. You had kind of had a sixth sense as to when the fucker would start watching you, and it flared as you slowly dragged your hands down. Bending over and shaking your ass, you slipped your skimpy shorts down your legs, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy.
But masturbating wasn’t enough for today. None of the college frat bros could make you cum, no matter how much they boasted about their fuckin roster, and you were tired of Satoru just watching. Just seeing him work out shirtless in his lawn, sun shining his sweat to give him a golden halo, was enough to make you sick, hungry for his dick. The way he was so shy and the mannerisms he had (as a loser) let you know he had a big fucking dick.
Needless, to say, you were tired of just fantasizing and speculating about his dick. Turning around, the moonlight allowed you to see the silhouette of his wrist moving up and down his length, even if he had tried to make his best effort to darken his rooms. Putting on your best show of an angry face, you grab your phone aggressively and dial his number.
The line rings, and he picks up. “Hey,” and you can tell he’s a little breathless. “long time no see. What’s up?”
“Cut the fucking act out,” you spit. “I know you’ve been fucking watching me, perv.”
Satoru’s panic is comically obvious over the phone as he rushes his words. “Wait, wait—listen, I—I can explain.”
“On how you’re being a peeping tom?” You glare at his window. “Come over, Gojo. Then I’ll listen to your fucking explanation.”
One thing leads to another, and now you’re spread out on your childhood bed, Gojo whimpering and whining as he plows his dick into your pussy. “You feel so—so good. M’ sorry—sorry for doing that. Your pussy is too good for me to look at.”
You laugh meanly and grab his chin. “You feel sorry yet, you pervert?” And Satoru can only cry out as you yank his head. “Remember, this is the only fucking thing you’re good at. Being my glorified dildo. Got it? Now, you’re going to fill me up only after you make me cum at least two times.”
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a/n yea this was depraved….lmk what yall think tho 😭
comment and reblog I’d love to hear your thoughts! (also, requests are open heheh)
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kittyfrisk9 · 2 days
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IdeaDpxDc: A nice moment with a sleep demon.
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
Dead On Main.
---
Danny accidentally absorbed some of Nocturn's powers (like in the Vortex episode), and now, with these new temporary abilities, why not take advantage of them? Like a kid with a new toy, Danny (or should I say Phantom: with a new design) has fun every night going from dream to dream.
The dream world is so strange! Without the constant threat of a dream entity trying to take over the world and all that. Now he has fun exploring the most unusual parts of his classmates' subconscious, or anyone's in general.
Even though he knows he shouldn't be doing this (after all, he's a responsible adult now), spying on other people's dreams isn't exactly something a mature person would do.
On the other hand, Danny is the responsible adult; Phantom is the one who uses his new powers recklessly. Plus, no one in Gotham knows who Phantom is, and at the end of the day, he's not hurting anyone. Point in his favor!
It was all fun and games… until he felt it: the unpleasant taste of a nightmare, distressing and desperate. Phantom knows he has to intervene, because, unlike Nocturn, he does not delight in the suffering of others.
So he goes. And what he sees shocks him.
Resonant laughter of a psychopath, the constant pain of flesh being beaten, and the devastating reminder that no one came to help. Phantom doesn't just see it, he feels it. Gross. What is this? Why would anyone be hurting a child? Then he understands: this is not just a nightmare, it's a memory, and someone is suffering from reliving it.
He absolutely will not allow this nightmare to continue.
...
Jason hasn't been having good days lately, mostly because instead of going to therapy, he's chosen to sweep his trauma under the rug and aggressively throw himself into crime-fighting. He's not good at dealing with his emotions, especially when he's been tormented by the same damn nightmare over and over again.
He knows the script by heart, he knows how it will end, but he still feels the same fear as the first time.
His head hurts.
"No, not again," he thinks in terror. Once again, he's tied up, unable to move or call for help. It's colder than he remembers. The walls have a grotesque tint, with laughter written in every corner. But the worst thing is the silence… until the sound of clashing metal begins to resonate.
Everything is a thousand times worse. He's sure the original scenario wasn't like this, but his terrified mind refuses to accept it.
The metallic sound resonates louder, each crash rumbling in Jason's chest. His breathing quickens, and then he hears it: that laugh.
A deep, distorted echo of laughter that seems to come from every direction. The laughter snakes around the grotesque walls, filled with the same letters that repeat his agony. “Ha… ha… ha…” fills the air, louder with each invisible step that approaches.
Then, he appears.
It’s not the Joker he remembers from that fateful night. This one is worse. Bigger, more deformed, with a smile that seems to tear at his own face. The colors of his suit are darker, more twisted. It’s as if his mind has amplified him, made him more monstrous.
“My, my, how little Robin has grown? But… something remains the same, doesn’t it? No matter how many times you live it, it always ends the same way. And to think that you were my greatest work of art!”
His voice is mocking, but behind the mockery is pure cruelty, a wicked amusement that lights up in those crazy eyes.
The Joker leans towards Jason, his face invading the small distance between them. The sound of metal continues to echo, and Jason knows what's coming next.
"Oh, I almost forgot…" he says, pulling out of nowhere an iron crowbar that gleams in the dim light of the nightmare. "It wouldn't be a good memory without this, would it?"
That's when the pain begins. Jason doesn't want to scream, and he won't. Even though that abominable creature is just a representation of his killer, he won't give him the luxury of listening to him suffer. The blows continue, and Jason bites his tongue. It's just a nightmare, it's not real… it's not real.
It's not real.
It's not real.
It's not-
"Hey… Are you okay?" he hears him ask. His shocked gaze turns to where the clown should be and discovers that he's gone. In his place, there's a handsome young man: short, slightly messy black hair, expressive purple eyes, and a body almost completely shrouded in dark shadows.
The mysterious man had a cosmic air about him, surrounded by a mix of special effects of stars and galaxies. Something magical.
And new.
Jason honestly doesn't know what he's seeing, or why he's seeing it. "What?" he says, unable to find another word to describe his situation.
The entity laughs at his stunned state, a reassuring echo very different from the joker's laughter. Then he snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's no longer in that ugly room. He's now in a field of flowers, beautiful and vibrant, looking out at a starry sky.
Okay, this is the part where he asks his brain how he went from being in a nightmare to being with a handsome guy under the stars, hands free and untethered.
"Relax, you're not crazy," the being says as he lies back in the grass. “You were in pain, and I didn’t like it, so I got you out of there. Don’t worry, that abomination won’t bother you again.”
Jason blinks twice, bewildered, not understanding anything. “You… saved me?”
“You could say yes.”
“Why?” He shakes his head. “No, wait, that’s not the question. Who…?” Looking back at the being, he decides to change his question: “What are you?”
He seems to have taken the being by surprise.
It clasps its hands together as it looks up at the sky, trying to act normal. Jason narrows his eyes. “You can call me Void.”
“Did you just make up that name?”
The being looks away, seemingly embarrassed at being found out. “Yeah…” And suddenly exclaims, “Ah, ancients! I'm not supposed to be doing this, much less with one of the bats."
That last sentence had given away more than it should have.
"Hey, how about we admire the night view and then pretend this never happened?" Void suggested with a hopeful smile, turning to Jason.
Maybe it was the soft scent of the flowers, the calm atmosphere, or just the tiredness after so many nights of endless nightmares, but Jason, without thinking too much about it, walked over, lay down next to Void on the grass, and said, "No."
He needed a break.
...
And that's how Jason befriended a dream demon. And how Danny pretended to be a dream demon until Nocturn's powers wore off. He couldn't let the bats find out his identity.
After that, they spent more time together, fell in love, there was drama and there was closure. In the middle of all that, Danny started having tea with Alfred in the dream world, and at other times, he had fun bothering the other bats in their dreams.
But that's another story.
---
Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.
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wannaeatramyeon · 10 hours
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Meeting Student!Gun Park for the First Time
G/N. 3.2k. Remember when Gun wanted to get his GED? Well. Stranger to~ Masterlists
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"How old are you?"
"20."
Press X for doubt, you think, and that's the exact meme you send over on chat.
"20 like 20 or 20 like you're mid 30s and planning your mid life crisis 20?"
You know you're being rude and making a terrible first impression. It's the first day of a new school year, of a new school in fact, and for some reason the class is held on video call and you're all forced to pair off with a classmate for an icebreaker introduction.
It’s already cringe worthy and awkward enough, icebreakers must have been created as a form of torture. To add insult to injury, you're sure this guy is bullshitting you.
"I'm 20." He deadpans.
Momentarily, you’re stunned into silence. It stretches almost a tad too long before you manage to choke out, “My bad. Sorry."
Wow. You're torn between thinking that's a rough 20, this guy has easily got 40 years under his belt and oh no, when is your puberty and hormones gonna kick in like that.
And that's also the exact moment this 20 year old Gun Park takes a drag on a cigarette and you decide that it's definitely a rough 20.
"So what do you do for fun?" You probe, and you have the distinct feeling he might say something like alimony, planning his third marriage, investing in the stock market - whatever someone in their 50s might say but-
To your surprise and glee, his body language turns shifty. 
He likes to game he says, like it's a dirty little secret. Amongst other things. Mentions something about training and martial arts and you fight to keep a straight face as it turns out you were also right about investing in shares and the stock market.
Gaming, however, is what you latch on to.
"Cute. I bet I could kick your ass."
"Oh yeah?"
"Oh yes."
And this is how you ended up at 4am on a school night, playing Tekken with your new classmate and getting your ass kicked.
"One more!" You screech down the mic, after the KO sign appears on screen, mumbling something about cheating and how if you can time this combo just right-
There's a huff of laughter coming through your tinny headphones and an amused "Fine."
.
.
Dark circles under your eyes grow. It's been a week of straight losses.
You blame the sleep deprivation on Gun Park, though really you have your own stubbornness to blame.
He never tends to say much during the gaming sessions apart from the odd expletive and you rant enough after each of your defeats for the both of you.
Sometimes this will earn you a chuckle and he will snidely add that you asked for this, you were the one who was supposed to kick his ass. This would piss you off enough for another game or three in the hopes of defeating him and getting to gloat.
Which unfortunately has not happened yet.
With a sigh, you hope your camera quality this morning is bad enough and pixelated enough that your poor sleep habits don't show.
You scan over your classmates, the few that have their camera turned on and find him.
Gun looks completely fine. He looks completely fine in what must be 4k and ugh, you scrunch your nose up in annoyance.
You keep an eye on him through the class. Observe how he's usually paying rapt attention, scribbling and typing up notes every now and then.
It's impressive how studious he is.
In comparison, you're daydreaming. Thinking about lunch, other combos or characters to play to counter his own when you catch on to the back end of a sentence as your teacher mentions ‘this’ is something to pay attention to as it will be on the pop quiz.
Huh? You blink a couple times. What is ‘this’? Unfortunately she swiftly moves onto another topic.
You type out a direct message to the only person you know.
You: I missed that, what did she just say?
Gun: You should have been paying attention.
You: Fuck you man!
You see his eyes dip to the bottom of the camera screen, briefly moving as he presumably reads your message.
He smirks.
That night he kicks your ass again.
Then as consolation, reveals what will be on the pop quiz.
.
.
If Gun looked like that in 4k, nothing could prepare you for how he looked in real life.
You're setting up your laptop and notepad in the classroom, the first actual in-person session, when someone takes a seat next to you.
Initially you feel a surge of irritation that they could have sat anywhere else and chose to sit next to you, then you look at the offender and-
Hold on.
You double, triple-take-
Is that?
It must be.
Shit.
It's fucking Gun Park.
You don't entirely regret your initial comments on his looks because this guy definitely does not look 20 but goddamn he looks-
He chooses that moment, when your jaw is on the floor, to turn to you and give you a nod of acknowledgement.
"Y/N."
"H-hi." You manage, and even to your ears it sounds like a simpering fool.
He must have thought so too if the quirk of his lips is anything to go by.
The cherry on top is that you expected this guy to smell like stale smoke, instead all you get is fresh laundry and something faintly dark and heady like leather and cedarwood.
Fuck.
Control yourself, a disapproving voice in your head says. Even that sounds vaguely like Gun.
It does nothing to stop your wandering gaze, peering at him in your periphery when you think he's not looking.
After you have taken your chance to not so discreetly run your eyes up and down his form, the only thing that makes you feel better is his hair. Because yeah he might be hot, but holy shit that must be a gallon of hair gel in there.
.
.
The other thing, as it turns out, that makes you feel a lot better is that he doodles.
It’s utterly charming.
Someone like Gun Park doesn't look like he doodles, but in between lines of his chicken scratch (seriously, who can even read that), there's little stick figures.
Maybe all the time you thought he was being studious he was just drawing-
Wait. You squint at the picture.
Is this guy for real?
"Are they fucking?" You whisper, using your pen to point at the page.
He doesn't answer straight away. There's a moment of surprise as he reacts like this is another secret of his he has unwittingly let you in on before his nostril flares and his eyes narrow and you grin in response.
Your grin grows when he grits out an answer. "No. Fighting."
He doesn't call you a dumbass but you can hear it loud and clear tacked on at the end.
"Whatever, pervert." You counter. You guess if you squint even harder then you suppose they could be fighting. Although the way one is lying on top of another is very suggestive. You don't hesitate to point that out to him.
Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.
.
.
Even without a seating plan, one forms.
Places taken by chance on the first day becomes a regular arrangement.
You exchange a few words with your classmates, familiarise yourself somewhat with their names and faces. Pieces of their backstory, why they're here studying for a GED but take your spot next to Gun regardless.
No one really talks to him, you've heard them saying he's menacing and intimidating. Yet when your first encounter of him was mistaking him as someone about to hit mid life crisis, how intimidating can he really be.
Besides, he still doodles his lewd figures that he insists are not in any way shape or form comprising sexual positions. So no, you don't find him intimidating at all.
.
.
Gun, as you have come to know, is a man of few words. He is also unsurprisingly not great at literature.
What you don't yet know is he likes to say what he means and mean what he says. His patience only extends to The Art of War, so all the flowery prose and poetry only serves to irritate him.
If Gun glared at you the way he's currently glaring at the textbook, you think you may either burst into tears or burst into flames.
Luckily you do neither of those things but you do take pity on him. Leaning over, you ask him quietly if he needs help.
He doesn't respond but the pen he's clutching in his right hand snaps in half.
Alright then.
Half an hour later, when the class empties out you ask Gun to follow you to the library.
He hesitates, and you add "if you've got time" to give him an out. In the end he doesn't take it and trudges obediently after you.
You very quickly learn that he really doesn't like literature. You're explaining and working him through the analysis and also mildly offended at the bored look on his face.
"This is a waste of time," he interjects and there's a sullen undercurrent to his words.
"Just memorise the analysis then." Exasperation tinges your tone, "That's all you need to do to pass."
He arches a brow at your words.
"They're testing your memory. So just remember what our teacher says."
There's an angry air of resignation as Gun nods, and you slide your notes over for him to copy.
.
.
Not long after, you have your first minor evaluation on the literature material.
You notice during the test that while the vein in Gun’s temple is prominent and he’s clutching his (new) pen tighter, there’s barely any pause as he fills in the answers.
A few days later, the graded papers are handed back. There's a sigh of relief from Gun.
He gives you a smile, small and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corner.
"You owe me one," you tell him jokingly though he takes it to heart and gives you a stern nod.
.
.
Gun repays his debt, with a coffee.
He places the paper cup on the desk in front of you. Logo of the coffee house to the side but still visible. It's new, expensive, and there’s regular lines around the block.
Of course it would be from there.
The issue is, who repays a debt with an espresso. He didn’t even ask for your drink of choice!
"Thanks for this thimble of coffee," you remark as Gun sniffs in distaste at your comment, placing his own matching cup in front of him and saying something about how it's the best untainted way to drink it.
Of course he would also be a coffee snob.
You tell him you usually like it with a bit more cream and a lot more sugar and he mutters that you sound like Goo.
You think that's an insult.
"Well, at least Goo has good taste," you snipe back with a grin.
Gun closes his eyes and counts to ten.
.
.
You: Are you doodling or actually writing notes?
You: Cos on camera you look very studious but I’ve seen your notepad
Gun: None of your business
You: Still drawing your disgusting pornographic stick men then
Gun: They are not-
Gun: Whatever
.
.
You: Ok, maybe that espresso wasn’t terrible
Gun: I know
You: Who’s Goo anyway?
Gun: …
Gun: No-one
You: Suuuure
.
.
You: Tekken tonight?
Gun: Aren’t you tired of getting your ass kicked?
You: >:(
.
.
You: Do you wanna go over the new lit material in the library this week?
Gun: Ok
.
.
Gun: Thanks for your help
You: :) 
.
.
Gun: You’re tired. You should game less.
You: Spoken like a coward!
Gun: Dumbass
You: Hey!!
.
.
Gun: I’ll bring you an espresso tomorrow. You need it.
You: Does it have to be an espresso?
Gun: Yes
You: …Thanks
.
.
To anyone else, the figure standing in the doorway is just smoking. To you, it suspiciously looks like they’re waiting.
It's not a crime. Gun Park can wait for whatever or whoever he wants.
What really throws you off is his smoking. You've seen him casually take one single drag before throwing the whole cigarette away. Even to you, it seems like a waste.
However, this time he smokes one all the way to the filter before stubbing it out. Then does the same to a second, and third.
Strange, very strange.
You approach him. Taking gentle steps, in case he might get spooked and bolt which is really a ridiculous notion for someone like him. Nevertheless, you keep your footsteps light, yourself clearly in view and you wander over to him.
"Hey," you say, with a somewhat forced smile. He doesn't acknowledge your greeting apart from a brief nod.
"... Everything ok?"
It's a perfectly normal question to ask but a vastly bizarre one for Gun. He doesn't look like the type of person where people casually enquire about his well being.
He must have thought so too if the look he gives you is anything to go by.
In response, he stubs out his cigarette (his fourth!) then asks, stilted and stiffly, if you want to come back to his for a game of Tekken.
At least that's what you interpret as he seems to be crazy cryptic.
"Are you interested in Tekken?"
"...Yes." You wonder what on earth this question is because did you hallucinate all those games you played together?
"Then meet me. After class." 
"Where? Here?"
"No. At mine."
"Where's that?"
"..."
He gives you another look, as if you're the one trying to coax a secret out of him despite him offering.
Gun dips forward, murmurs quietly into your ear his address and some vague directions like it's highly confidential information.
You nod along, thinking what is with this guy. 
.
.
So firstly, what the fuck.
Then secondly, what the fuck.
Don't think you hadn't noticed the designer brands Gun wears. If they're fakes, they're very convincing fakes. But you're almost certain they have got to be counterfeit when he brought you over to a junkyard claiming this is where he lives.
You've seen films like this. Granted, it's less in a junkyard and more in the middle of nowhere in America where college kids meet their gruesome ends in fantastical ways.
You never thought this would happen to you. You have sorely miscalculated. 
Is this Gun Park (if that even is his real name) going to butcher you and leave your body on top of a pile of scrap metal in the corner?
Instead of a night of gaming where you’re the one KO-ing him, he’s actually the one that’s going to chase you around wearing a mask and wielding a knife or axe?
"You’re here. Come in," Gun says, opening his front door just as your inner monologue begins to truly spiral out of control and you're considering doing a runner.
"Eh?" You grunt like an idiot, not noticing when the shack appeared nor when you stepped onto his porch, or the side eyes Gun had been giving you.
He gives you another look, likely regretting inviting you at all, and leaves the door ajar for you to either enter or turn back and go home.
.
.
"This is... nice," you lie, through the skin of your teeth.
Gun sees cleanly through your white lie and exhales a huff of amusement.
It's sparse. Peeks of luxury here and there - the extensive PC gaming rig, the entertainment system and consoles, to name a few.
Apart from that, it's barely a home.
"Take a seat." He offers, and it sounds more like an order. Obediently you sit on his sofa, feeling very much a guest.
"You're not in danger," he says, bemused at how awkward you are in his domain, how tense you hold yourself.
'That's exactly what a killer would say,' you think and when you hear a low chuckle, you realise that you said it aloud.
"Don't worry," Gun reassures and it doesn’t really help before he strides off to somewhere in his house and leaves you sitting alone.
He returns back minutes later as you’re in the middle of admiring his entertainment set up and going through his vinyl collection (because obviously someone like Gun has vinyls) with a coffee for you that looks much more milky and to your taste than the usual ones he offers. 
“Thanks.” you take your drink and return back to your seat.
Taking the first sip, you finally manage to relax. Sinking into a sofa that is much more comfortable than at first glance and you take in your surroundings a bit more.
Sort of. You actually take in Gun Park more. 
He’s casual, in a way you have never seen or even considered. Dressed in a t-shirt and grey sweatpants, hair floppy and the only styling is done with his hands running through his hair now and then to keep it back.
Even during the online classes, he is usually dressed up in an open collared shirt.
If you thought he was hot before, it’s nothing compared to now. There’s an air of domesticity, the drink he made for you cradled in your hands, and the distinct feeling that not many people have had the luxury to see Gun in his natural habitat, so intimate and vulnerable.
You wonder if this is how he looks all those nights you’ve been gaming together.
You catch his eyes, having been caught checking him out and he raises his eyebrows at your blatant staring. 
Blood rushes to your cheeks as he chuckles into his own espresso and takes a sip.
.
.
"Holy shit, I won!"
You're familiar with the KO screen. What you're not familiar with is being on the side of victory. You're usually a hair trigger away from rage quitting, from throwing a tantrum down the mic.
Finally. All your hard work has paid off. Time spent thinking of combos, attacks and defences (which would have been better spent studying) is coming to fruition.
You peer over to Gun, expect the controller he is clutching to maybe have been crushed into pieces with his freakish strength. Expected nothing except for a vein throbbing on his temple.
What you do find is-
Gun looking at you, fondness in his eyes. He's taking in your grin, letting your gloating slide.
Doesn't do more than roll his eyes when you perform a victory dance of sorts around him.
And when you get in his face to tell him that you're the winner, you're the best-
(More words are on the tip of your tongue but your gaze drops to his lip, drawn to the small smile he wears.
It sinks in.
The patience he has, the attention he gives, the way he has opened his home to you.
From the very first meeting, the even-handed way he has dealt with your insults, entertained you to the early hours of the morning on Tekken.)
Gun reaches out, tugs your hand and pulls you into his lap and agrees.
"Yes. The best."
You think it's a lie, an embellishment.
But the way he holds you - tender and precious, and the way he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours - soft, like you might break - can't be anything else but the whole truth.
140 notes · View notes
jesuistrestriste · 9 hours
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art being ur boyfriend and u somehow find out he humps his pillows.. maybe you walk in on him or he forgets to wash his pillow case and it’s just fucking covered in cum… you make him put on a show for you
art’s too busy now to hear anything you’re saying. he’s trying so desperately to cling to your words and respond, but he feels too good.
being watched by you feels too fucking good.
you’re sat on the edge of the bed while he lays over his pillow and ruts wetly into it. his hips rocking urgently and desperately as he gasps and keens, blinking blearily over to you as your voice swirls incoherently in his head.
“that’s it, baby… this is so hot, oh my god… can’t believe you couldn’t wait till i was home,” you smirk, “couldn’t wait to rub your greedy cock against something, so now you get your pillow instead of my tight hole.”
he can’t make out anything you’re saying, his own whines and groans filling his ears, but the way you’re looking at him does enough. it spreads an itchy heat through his entire body that pools in his balls and then slides to his tip.
“unnngh—!” he moans, his lips parting as his brows knit up. he grips the pillow tighter.
you chuckle.
“good god, artie… you look like a pornstar… come on, that’s all you got? put your back into it…
fuck it like you’re fucking me.”
and holy hell, he hears that last bit. it rings through his head, and then he can’t help it. he’s pounding into the plushness trapped under his pelvis and picturing that he’s being squeezed by your squishy inner walls.
“ohh, hah— haah! i’m gonna come, i’m gonna come for you— can i come inside you?”
he’s babbling, clearly losing his head.
but you take pity on him. he looks like he’s too lost in it to hold back anyways if you wanted to deny him. so you nod, and reach out to stroke a hand through the back of his hair. “yeah, babe. let go.”
uffff he’s gone in an instant !
eyes rolling back before he squeezes them shut and curls in on himself, shallowly thrusting as he dribbles his hot load over the already-soaked pillow. he nearly mewls.
his body jolts here and there with the aftershocks until he feels your hand over his back, and then he’s reaching out for you with a look on his face that tells you he needs you. he’s sorry. he’ll be good now. he’ll wait.
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opal-owl-flight · 3 days
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Heat of the moment.
Well….a first kiss is one way to end the Grandfest.
*Takes place after the results were announced, but before this comic, and after this piece!
Follow-up dialogue below!
*The situation is that 3 had woken up before everyone else, as is usual. Went to check on their team. 8 woke next, and checked in with OtH. Theyre her close friends after all! 4 woke last. She woke right as the splatfest winner was announced. And she saw 3 being carried by their team, tossed up and down.
Back to the dialogue after the comic:
"T-TANARA????"
3 scrambles back, signing apologies over and over. "|It was heat of the moment- Im sorry! Im sorry! Im sorry!!!"|"
4s glowing. "I-its fine! Its nothing, really. I get it! Calamari Inkantation does things to you!"
"|Its nothing...yeah. Nothing.|"
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"AAANYWAY," John yells, breaking the silence, "ITS TIME WE CELEBRATED A WIN JUST LIKE OLD TIMES! COME ON, TEAM! AY! AY! AY! AY!"
hes crowing that victory theme, and the team scramble to pick 3 up again, running them off to the nearest tacticooler soda tub to dunk them into it. Old, veteran tradition.
4 stands there, stunned. Why-
Why did they kiss her? Did....did they actually like her back, or...
Was it really just the heat of the moment?
Oh cod, what is 8 going to think? She KNOWS that she likes them. She TOLD her she likes them!! And yet-
And yet she STILL fell for them, she STILL allowed 3 to do what they did-
She'll...try to forget it.
(But as the night passes later, she realized she cant let it go. Oh man, she has to talk to them about this...)
She knew 8 was elsewhere. She grabs one of those pamphlets they give out when the results are announced and goes to find her.
Shes gonna bury that event for now. Its nothing. Its nothing. Its...
Its important that she find her first. Yeah.
---------
GOD THESE SQUIDS ARE SO GAY LMAO
*the way 3 runs to greet 4, and then 4 picking them up and spinning them around, is something they do after 4 comes back from patrol -- both post Hero2 and after they made up post Hero3. Its their special little greeting :]
**All the ship art takes place AFTER this! I never quite figured out when it all started, it was always "vaguely in the future." With the end of story updates though, I think its safe to finally pin down where I can let the ship(s) sail!
114 notes · View notes
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art donaldson is reader’s ex from college, except you two never really broke it off. at least not properly.
a/n: this isn’t proofread lmfao this was written in the middle of the night i was bored but enjoyyy
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-
-
you were looking around a gift shop for a friend visiting the city. it was nearing the end of her trip and you wanted to give her a goodbye gift to remember the moment.
the day was cold, snow falling on the streets as cars honked by. thick jackets, winter festivals, christmas trees in the windows of random houses on the street. the entirety of earth settling down to celebrate the most wonderful time of the year.
you knelt down, scanning the shelves for mugs, keychains, you name it. picking out a gift for a friend was a great art you took specialty in.
“lils, don’t run around like that with glass in your hand. drop it and i’ll have to pay.”
you nearly dropped the item in your hand at the sound. a voice that haunts you each day, one that never left your mind. what was his presence doing here?
you were cursing yourself in your mind, putting down the item almost immediately. you didn’t want anything to do with him or his life.
suddenly, a tap on your shoulder causes you to turn around. your gaze meets his beauty, the sculpture of a face he owns. he was a piece of art. literally.
the first exchange of awkward glances soon turn to smiles. past experiences flooding back in a couple seconds of silence.
“i knew it was you.” did you really know? i don’t think you remembered me at all. unless i was stored in the back of your mind like i had always wished. did you miss me too?
“oh my gosh, i haven’t seen you in forever.” you pried a smile on your face as he gave you a side hug. the proximity of your faces sickening knowing that if you’d lasted it would’ve been different.
art took a glance at the girl standing cluelessly beside him. her hand tugging on his jacket as she held up a keychain with a smile. he knelt down, nodding his head and setting a kiss on her curls before she continued her adventure. art’s attention turning back to yours after a huff from the parenting.
“that’s my daughter lily.” “that’s nice, how old?” “seven.”
seven years, and more, he spent getting over me. i never really let go. you keep a leash on my neck even though you’ve got your life together. a child? a wife? a fucking career? why do i feel so magnetized by your invisible presence? why do i, after all these years, hold so much against you, but in reality, there is nothing at all?
“are you and your family just visiting?” you wanted him to come over sometime so that you could excuse yourselves to the bathroom and make out and possibly find your spark again. would that be so evil? you didn’t think so.
he puffed his cheeks, nodding as his hands stuffed into his pockets. “just for a bit, yeah.” the signature side smile that tugged his lips made you have déjà vu.
you were proud of him for doing what you couldn’t, moving on. he found himself a life, one without you, and definitely more successful. did his wife know that you were the one he slept with at night before her? you were the one who ran your fingers through his blond curls? how did he throw you away so easily as if you were never there?
“i missed you.” “i did, too.” “no, i mean like, i really fucking missed you.”
your eyes glistened with something more. yearning, the unresolved question that hung in the air. you didn’t know whether to cry on the spot. everything was full with question marks, anger, sadness, mixes and mixes of emotions that took too much mind to handle. your breath hitched with hesitation. a reassuring smile from art, wiping the tension away.
his smile signaling his acceptance of my thoughts before speaking. “it was real, all of it. and i’m sorry for throwing it under the rug like that. we’re both well past that now, i hope. please forgive the immature mess i was back in college,” his voice paused, like a barrier to the words that were urging to come out.
his hand slipped out the pocket of his jacket, setting it on your shoulder. please, console me, my lover. help me leave the role of being the biggest fish in your sea. no matter how many hooks go through my body, i will always come back to the surface to show you my scales.
“i have to go, but i wish you a happy holidays from my family. you’ll find the one, alright?”
your breath shuddered as you saw art walk away with his daughter hand in hand. their presence disappearing like the intimacy that once remained. the bells ringing as a sign that he was gone, that was his exit. the closure that you so desperately needed all those years.
your story was always destined to be tragic. you were left behind in a dusty cloth, an heirloom soon to be found near his deathbed.
it hurts to know that you will never be loved by anyone like art donaldson again. he was only temporary to your story. you still have a journey that continues, why shed on the past if he’d already moved on?
it was worth knowing that the love was there, and it might still remain, just left unspoken.
you won’t welcome him back anymore. you won’t stay on his doorstep, scratching on the door to find your place again. instead, you’ll be waving goodbye to him from the dock, watching him getting shipped off to sea.
this is our goodbye, art. thank you for stopping by.
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natsunenuko · 3 days
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TW // mental issues, mental absue, harassment, surgery/blood
I'm sorry this one is so long, but please carry on reading. It's a chance for me to not only speak about the situation but let out some steam too. It is unfortunate this announcement comes at the same time the flood occurs on the south of my home country (Poland) and I'm in the endangered zone, luckily so far safe, as I feel my head can't handle more stress.
It's been so long since I've been this personal online. I realized how I didn't feel the urge to vent for 3-4 years by now which is a sign of improving mental health. But my healing is still a process, and I'm afraid it's too hard to carry this rock alone at this point. I fought my thoughts if I should do this and I think just as deeply as I write right now. Yet, I know it's better late than never and I thank deeply my friends for helping me out recently as well as in the past in my lowest. I wholeheartedly owe my life to you.
I couldn't ask for better friends. As years verified, even long lasting relationships might be nothing but a mask and I had to learn the hard way. I ended a friendship of 13 years at the time over a misunderstanding. Other person I put my trust on was nothing but a groomer with morally corrupted sexual tendencies who would take advange of a group of minors while being the only adult among them, yet acting like a person much younger than all of them and pressuring all their mental issues on children instead of seeking help. The latter, I might speak of more in detail when I'm ready.
Long time ago I tried calling out for help but back then, the intrusive thoughts won; "Others have it worse, just work harder.", "No one will give you anything for free, no one will care.", "What people will think of you?". and I would only speak about these things in a closed circle of my friends.
I tried my best in silence by not giving up on my creative passion, working restlessly for years, improving. Hoping I could reach the point I can sustain myself purely on what I make.
But the problem is not being self-sufficient. And it's not about my art...
All of my life it has been me, my momma and my granny. The other two important figures weren't there for us, by choice. (which is hard to say if losing someone you loved is worse than not being cared for in the first place) My rather young self at the time didn't put much thought about it as I didn't understand it but something always felt wrong; my only issues at the time was being "that weird, quiet kid with little to no friends". But despite the hardships, my momma has always been my hero, working without a time for a break or rest so we could live happily, to afford something special from time to time.
However in 2014 my momma has been hospitalised and almost lost her life to wrongly treated ovarian cyst (cyst rapture), with enough blood loss to require emergency surgery...
From that point on things went downhill and the result of that we feel to this very day. To stay afloat we fell into a severe dept. (We didn't have any savings, could only rely on borrowing money or loans) And since I was a child as all of this happened, I've only learned about it all throughfully as I entered adulthood, so I wouldn't need to worry about anything and "just be a kid". Which I really understand, but it doesn't make it easier to handle.
And by now, for several years I keep on trying to earn money, so I could free my momma from this chain and let her live, not survive. I always wanted to get through this quietly, because I never, ever wanted to burden anyone with my home problems. But it grew to a point I might need to grab anything to climb towards the light
The goal is $10 000... which is scarily large number.
I list all the options but Kofi is preferred to keep track of the funds!
My commissions are HERE! (the sheet will receive a slight update in upcoming days) My Kofi is HERE! (Level 4 Tea is free headshot drawing every month!) HERE's other services I do (adopts, brushes, etc) I plan to do paid requests for my friday streams on occasion! Anything else I come up with I hope to include in here! Every person who donates will be part of "Thank you" list where I hope to shoutout everybody, cause every penny matters. I want this situation to end...
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aboringredmop · 2 days
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k still don't know how im gonna post the videos (YouTube? unlisted?someone please help) but I can't sleep so I thought it'd write down whatever I remember happening!
(edit: here's the full recording! )
Becky and Joe walked on stage wearing sunglasses and red leather jackets and threw 3 of the trio plushies into the crowd. didn't get one unfortunately but it's really cool some people got free plushies :)
they made this robot child called the Inspiration Child, who's clearly meant to be a nod to ai (can learn from our show and generate it's own content!)
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they explained how they met (and had some dodgy animated retelling), and how they started with small projects like commercials and music videos, until they came up with designs of the trio (and a mysterious fourth fella)
they made the designs first, then made the set, then the song and finally wrote the script for creativity. red guy was just a red mop head with legs at first ("alien squid thing") but Joe put the red guy head on for shits and giggles once and Becky thought it was hilarious so they kept it in the show
they were really not expecting it to blow up, and when Sundance called because they wanted to show creativity Becky thought it was a scam caller lol
they talked about the kickstarter and the credit card fraud kid. the mailed him saying "hey maybe dont do that" but the kid didnt know how to undo it cuz he just found a website full of credit card information and went ham, so Becky and Joe had to contact kickstarter because people were pulling out of the funding because they thought the project was overfunded (kickstarter was very difficult to contact)
they also made (lighthearted) fun of nsfw fluffybird art ((no padlock 😔) "using OUR characters to act out their SICK FANTASIES" - Becky) and theorists, especially because most if not all of the webseries is just them fucking around.
Inspiration Child also says something along the lines of "wow what a cool show with a great message of how corrupt the media is. I hate the media!"
Becky and Joe had these rules to make the show as vague as possible (no pop culture references, no names, no swearing and way too much detail put into small things)(the duck guy drag queen absolutely obliterates the no swearing rule lol)
they talk about the pilot, how they focused too much on the story because they felt like they had to due to it being on the big screen now, and how it ended up ruining the atmosphere and such of the pilot. they did show the entire thing sped up but my phone sucks ass so I could not get it to focus correctly. I'll see what I can salvage so you people can dissect frames of your blorbo you're Legally Not Allowed To See (which is also the official reason we don't get the pilot)
also pilot concept art showed that Mean Steve is in fact just called Key
they showed a whole post-it wall full of ideas for the tv show. don't know how much I got on footage, but what stood out most to me were 2 episodes called Money and Christmas. Joe mentioned "clock in a wheelchair" specifically
also really fun fact. Becky made the Lesley suit during covid, and pretty much threatened Baker into writing a human character into the show to wear it. concept art also shows Lesley with a mask made out of the same fabric, don't know if this was part of the original suit tho
they showed Warrens old models (?). he was gonna be a wayy more ugly looking silicone pug-worm thing y'all got lucky with the bald fuck
lily and todney were directly based off of some cancelled show about two porcelain doll children with panda parents. do not for the life of me remember what it was called but Becky and Joe were very enthousiastic about it (UPDATE: Candy and Andy!)
international release of the show soon!
Inspiration Child talks about what he's learned and sings a little song, then generates his own dhmis inspired content of a cult meeting in a forest at night. the dhmis Discord server called this "potential new content" but I doubt it
3 cultists walk on stage, face the screen backs to the crowd, drop their cloaks and boom! drag queens!!!
they were not mentioned on the site or during earlier parts of the show at all so they were a complete surprise. I asked Becky about it later during the night and she said she really wanted them there, so she asked and they were excited to! hope this means more official content with them soon I love them
they dance to There's Three Of Us, then Duck lipsings the shredder song which turns into a techno remix while Red and Yellow dance during the background
then Duck and Yellow make out while Red tries to undress to the instrumentals of the Fucked Up Part of Creativity but can't get out of his suit on time before the song ends
the drag queens, Becky and Joe and the Inspiration Child walk around during the meet and greet later and I got signatures from all of them! except inspiration child he didn't have thumbs
the drag queens were so fucking funny. Duck adopted inspiration child and loudly yelled at everyone to "GET AWAY FROM MY FUCKING CHILD" (their duck voice is sooo good). yellow stood in a corner staring at a wall for like 10 minutes and red was constantly awkwardly hovering just outside the frames of pictures (and also could not see shit lmao)
Becky liked my shirt! (the one with the melting trio heads) said she handdrew it
I'll post the signatures and some more stuff tomorrow because it is. 5 am
edit Heres the signatures! yellow guys is Italian I think? and means hi I love you :)
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(the liyskaen is duck trying to spell my name. they got pretty close)
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gofishygo · 23 hours
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mito mito mito hihi 😋
i’ve been having some thoughts n i felt like sharing w the class newayssss
so i was having bubble tea earlier and i started thinking,,,,what cod characters would like it? i feel like price def wouldn’t,,simon wouldn’t mind it but he does def think its too sweet and proper tea is superior and blah blah blah (i acc don’t know im kinda divided on that like i hc him as a sweet tooth but bubble tea,,,ehhh i feel like he wouldn’t like it all that much like he’d be all grumbly about it,,, idfk
johnny and gaz i think would like it lots ,,
i also think alex wouldn’t like it abd farah would (i js like hc farah as this secret softie ok leave me alone 😞)
but THAT got me thinking,,,, what other food preferences would they have ?? i think gaz would rlly like sushi (saw a fan art of him on a sushi date w the reader and i forgot who made it but ):$/:)/&!:!!!!! it was so cute) and i also think gaz would handle spicy food well ?? and he would like seafood in general methinks (tryna think of some select seafood items he wouldn’t like but im drawing a blank bc im vegetarian shusbssjnsuen)
idrk ab simon and johnny and price,,,,,,out of them 3, i feel like simon or johnny would have the biggest sweet tooth (they’re on like completely dif ends of the spectrum character wise but shh i js know it) but they all eat A SHIT TON like the food could be burned or too salty or smth but if they’ve js come back from a mission then they’re eating that shit UP. and asking for seconds. and thirds. they would still give u food feedback if it’s some other day tho
also johnny is extremely passionate about haggis. no i have never tried it yes i js know he is ok moving on
KONIGGGG hmmmm,,,, i have no fucking idea lmao i think? a lot of german cusine involves bread and stuff,,,so……………i think he’d have rlly bland meals idk
i’ve been rlly into keegan lately but i cant come up w anything for him aaaa
also gaz would be the only one who knows how to use chopsticks. the others would learn fast being in the military and all but gaz and chopstick skills js make sense???
ANYWAY im soso sry for rambling sm lmao this is a lot of words,,,,,and this isn’t a req by any means !!! js needed to hear ur thoughts bc food is js calling to me like “ok but would blank character like this” like. urgh. ok im done now i think but yeah food preferences for cod characters of ur choice
ALSO !!! THE IOS SHARK STICKERS REMIND ME OF U,,,,,look at them$:!!;&:!3 OK IM ACC DONE NOW BYE BEY MITO HIPE U DONT FALL ASLEPE READING ALL THAT
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AHHH hi weebun !! ^^ i was literally having bubble tea with my sister like a few hours ago and when i checked the inbox n saw this i BOLTED !! sorry for never responding to this, i forgot inbox existed..,
notes: shittily wrote as this as a warmup/just general yap :> sorry for messiness and incoordination.., platonic, no warnings !! unless ur lactose intolerant idk
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so you'll be jus chillin w the 141 on base and then say something like "boba is absolute gas shits better than normal tea" and of course, since the majority of the taskforce is british, you get absolutely fucking jumped for it. like- keep in mind, you say this price, the NUMBER ONE TEA AND BISCUTS DEFENDER, so you do end up getting toilet duty for a week with the explanation of 'uncordial behaviour.'
but after your deployment, you are the one to arrange where the 141 meet up. it's a little ritual you guys have developed to stay connected in between missions, one that makes your friendship seem a bit more real. sometimes the only thing that keeps your eyes open and heart pumping. and since you're an absolute fucking menace, you ask if you can meet around the heart of london- and then drag them all into the nearest bubble tea store you can.
-
price... doesn't end up liking it. takes a total of two sips, nearly chokes on the pearls, and then sets the cup down. he claims he's been around long enough to know that this- like many other foods, is probably some 'trendy millennial bullshit that'll disappear in a solid few', but that doesn't help ease the insane side eye that he gets from the cashier.
but to your surprise, ghost seems somewhat okay with it. his face doesnt really change (from what you can tell- his mouth is still hidden due to some face mask he put on), but he seems neutral, relaxed, even. he mutters something along the lines of how it isn't too bad, but it doesn't beat a cuppa- to which you chose to ignore, and how he'll probably just stick to having an earl grey in the mornings. but a few months later, you catch him at the same boba store, and you cant help but giggle to yourself.
soap fucking inhales the drink. its genuinely concerning, to say the very least. he seems to like.. unhinge his jaw like some kind of snake, and then inhales the whole drink in what you think is a millisecond. and since he's the only scotsman on the team- thinks the whole 'tea n biscuits' ritual his colleagues have is utter stupidity, so not only does he now FREQUENTLY drink boba because he likes it- he also drinks out of utter spite.
gaz is the only one with a seemingly respectable opinion about boba, unfortunately. he's had it before, multiple times- it appeals to his sweet tooth and is the occasional treat after long missions. but unlike you, gaz does not value peace, and seems to keep egging soap on in chugging unreasonable amounts of the drink. (and he doesnt mention it, as he does not want to face the same punishment as you did, but he thinks that bubble tea is sometimes, just sometimes better than his cuppa.)
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masterlist (some of my other stuff is better promise)
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technically-human · 3 days
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Hi! So I was scrolling through the dbda tags on Tumblr after seeing someone I follow reblog things from the tag; and all the art, gifs, etc. there made me curious about the show (though kind of especially your art). So I decided to look for some clips on YouTube and... spoilers... but I saw the last scene in which they hugged... and like I said, I've only recently been exposed to fan-made stuff about the show, so I didn't think I was particularly invested in the show... but that scene literally made me break down lmao. Seeing Charles stare at his hand after hugging Edwin? I was going insane. It could also be due to not getting enough sleeping, but I was legit sobbing while ranting to a random spider (the house is empty and my dogs are sleeping lol) about how that scene mirrors the scene in which Edwin realized he was in love... I wrote a two page rant. I don't even know if it's really even accurate or if I'm just making random assumptions based on fan-made art.
So now, now idk what to do- I mean, I'm definitely going to watch the show after getting some rest but like, any advice? (on how to be chill and normal about the show?) and sorry about the long ask, I'm jusy very unwell rn.
I'm very glad you have found the show, it seems like you will like it.
That particular scene truly is something else, huh? I mean, I would be completely willing to accept Charles doesn't reciprocate Edwin's feeling if not for that small detail. It is so subtle but so, so important. I'm sure the spider you ranted to agrees (and it's funny it was a spider, considering... Well, you'll see)
To be honest, if I knew how to be chill and normal about this show... Well, I still wouldn't be. But luckily, you have a lot of people here who are just the same!
To enjoy this show, I think I would advice... If you're the kind of person who cries while watching shows, have some water and tissues ready for all episodes. You never know what small detail might thrill or sadden you, and this show has a lot of them if you watch closely enough. And have someone to share your rambling with! If the spider is too busy, you can always tell me, I would love to hear your thoughts as you watch! :)
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Hey dear, how are you?👋🫶🧡
I had an idea for a short fanfic, and as I like, it has to do with the theme of Saladin's friendship with Baldwin. Anyway, the idea is related to the drawings that @chicken-blitz13 and @somethingstrangeishere created, specifically the ones where Saladin and Baldwin are playing polo. How about a fanfic in which Baldwin and Saladin meet for diplomatic negotiations (on not too global, but relatively small territorial issue, let's say) and during these negotiations one of the rulers casually drops the phrase "If only disputes were solved by games instead of battles...". (Or something like that). And then they get the idea that it's actually not a bad thing. As a result - Saladin and Baldwin decide by lot who chooses which game to play. As a result, they play polo. And then it's up to you, it'll be interesting to see who wins!😉
Always love you, thank you in advance💕
Drawings:
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Credit @chicken-blitz13 and me
♡ Mallets And Hooves - King Baldwin & Saladin ♡
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♡ Fluff ♡
A/N: HELLO GIRL!!! I am soooo sorry that it has taken FOREVER to get to this i've been so busy 😭. I loved writing this so much, I always enjoy writing these two as besties (they deserve it for real). I did change it up a little i'm sorry but I hope you like it anyway! I really hope you enjoy my friend! As always, this is based off the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!
P.S. THIS IS NOT A SHIP FIC RAHHH!!!! I also really love the art 🤭and thank you to @chicken-blitz13 for coming up with the fic name 😭
TW: Leprosy
It was a warm evening in Jerusalem when the diplomatic negotiations first took place.
Earlier in the day Saladin had arrived at the castle with his own royal officials to begin the trade route negotiations and after a few hours of rest, the men were ready for the discussions.
Baldwin had been nervous about the affairs prior to the sultan's arrival, mostly because this was their first meeting since his victory all those years ago and he was yet to decide on how the other man would react after seeing him again.
Fortunately, the two had become acquainted quickly and soon the tension was all but gone. If only the same could be said for the other royal officials who had quickly taken to bickering about the affairs while Baldwin and Saladin exchanged glances of empathy and apologies for their counterparts behavior.
They had been at it for hours, so much so that the sun had grown low in the sky and due to the insistence of the other men, a conclusion had yet to be reached.
The sultan rubbed his eyes and sighed as Baldwin yawned behind the iron mask that covered his bored expression. It was truly draining for the both of them and the end seemed nowhere in sight.
Baldwin had not been paying attention for the most part but his attention was grabbed as one of the smaller rulers mumbled, “if only disputes were solved by games instead of battles…”.
The idea of a game of polo lifted the young king's spirits immensely, “alright, enough for now. Meeting dismissed, we shall continue tomorrow” Baldwin said loud enough for them all to hear.
He turned to the sultan for approval and was met with a tired nod.
The officials grumbled in annoyance and stood to leave, collecting their papers as they went.
Baldwin stood and approached the chair next to Saladin who seemed hesitant to get up just yet. The young king sat down and sighed.
“If only he were right..” Baldwin mumbled.
“Sorry?” the sultan replied.
“If only disputes were solved by games instead of battles!” 
Saladin chuckled. “Yes, that would certainly make things much easier” he said, looking out into the distance.
“Would you like to play a game of polo before the food is prepared?” Baldwin offered, a small smile creeping onto his face.
A similar smile came to the sultan at the kings strange request, “that would be wonderful”.
-----------------------------
The two left for the stables, talking about what they would discuss tomorrow and complaining of the behavior of their own men.
“Children! I swear that's all they are” Saladin said, throwing his hands in the air as Baldwin mounted his own horse.
The young king laughed, “yes it definitely seems that way" “I will speak to all of them tonight about their behavior. We are here to make peace, not war” the sultan said honestly as he mounted his own horse. 
So the two set off with the sun casting an orange glow over the desert.
They began to play as the sun got lower and lower in the sky until it was near impossible to see the ball in front of them. The game came to a perfect tie, the two of them laughing about that as they rode back to the stables.
Baldwin's body ached but it was worth it. As of that evening, he considered Saladin a good friend and not somebody to bicker about stupid things with as their officials and advisors did.
When the two arrived back at the castle, dinner for most was prepared in the dining hall and Baldwins in his chambers.
When Saladin saw the young king walk past the table and to his rooms, he followed.
“My friend! Are you not going to dine with us?” he said, confused.
Baldwin simply tapped his mask with a gloved finger in reply.
“I can assure you, nobody would want to see what's under this” that statement made the sultan's heart ache for the young man. He must be so lonely, eating alone in his rooms every night.
“Well in that case, I shall take my food and go with you” he said returning to the dining room before Baldwin could protest. 
---------------------------
The two walked to Baldwin's chambers in silence with Saladin trying his best to concentrate on balancing two plates and a cup in his hands after the refusal of a servant's help, insisting that he did not wish to waste her time her.
Once inside, the two sat down at the small table on the royal balcony.
Baldwin hesitated at removing his mask in front of the other man and Saladin noticed this right away.
“I can assure you my friend, your appearance could never bother me. I admire you for your leadership and respect you as a friend. Nothing could change that” he said with a small, reassuring smile.
The young king sighed and pulled back the head covering to reveal his hair before slowly peeling off the mask, exposing his bandaged face to the cool night air.
Saladin grinned, “ah, you see! Nothing but the face of a brilliant leader, and a good friend”.
He raised his glass to Baldwin. The young king smiled and raised his glass in return.
“To peace between our people, as peace has come between us” the sultan said happily.
“To peace between our people” Baldwin repeated, equally as happy as his new friend.
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blckbrrybasket · 6 hours
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Run, girl, run
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Artrick x Fem!Reader
ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1k
ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: Art’s grandma comes over after you and Patrick spend the night
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Art's grandma was the sweetest woman you'd ever known. She was the salt of the earth, raising Art to bring only kindness and love into the world. He always tried his best to please her, and for the most part he kept his soft heart even after starting college and while keeping Patrick around him. 
You balanced the two boys out. You kept Patrick in check, while also encouraging Art to loosen up a bit and enjoy his life outside of tennis. He wasn’t a teenager anymore, no longer bound by the rules of parent figures, urged on by your support. Most days with the three of you were like a dream, always helping the other to be the best they could be. Not that other people knew.
You all decided to keep your relationship private, not wanting outside judgments or prying eyes.
So no one else was aware, including Art’s grandma. Unfortunately for you, Art's grandma didn't always call before stopping by. She meant well, but her surprise visits meant quick texts from Art to make yourself scarce for the day. You always listened; even when Patrick begged you to mess with Art, you insisted on giving them space.
Maybe that’s why he got some sick satisfaction that Art's grandma had unexpectedly arrived for a visit while he was still half-dressed in Art's bed with you. The past night had been great, fucking until you were on the brink of exhaustion, and yet somehow Patrick was already energetic again in the morning. Art was usually a little slower to getting up, wanting nothing more than to drift back to sleep cradled in your arms.
However, the single knock on his door shattered the peaceful morning's atmosphere. Art groaned into his pillow, barely lifting his head to call out, “What?” A second of silence passed when his grandma’s sweet voice answered, “Art, sweetie? Is that you? I tried to call but I couldn’t wake you up.” She laughed softly, unaware of how fast Art shot out of bed.
He toppled over the side of the mattress, shoulder slamming into the thin carpet. Art hissed in pain, wasting no time when he popped back up. “Guys, you gotta go - now!” he whisper-yelled, shaking you awake. “Honey, are you alright?” Art winced at his grandma’s concerned voice. “I’m alright grandma!” Art replied, eyes darting between you and the door. 
His head swiveled back around to face you as you raised your head, blinking away the last traces of sleep to take in the scene. “Up!” You let out a silent sigh, looking around in confusion. Art was already moving on to scramble, grabbing the clothes off the floor. “What..?” You asked.
Patrick leaned over your bare shoulder with a wicked grin, having been silently awake for a while. “Art’s grandma is here,” he whispered in your ear with cruel amusement. He laughed quietly at Art’s frantic movements, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose. You sat up with little urgency, the comforter rolling off your body. 
Art’s panic fell into background noise as Patrick slipped his shirt over you, giving you more coverage than just your underwear. A quick kiss silenced his mirth as you took in poor Art's panic. You turned away from Patrick when the sound of Art’s window opening drew you back to the present. 
Art came back into view, whipping around to face you with an expression full of worry. He grabbed your face for a desperate goodbye peck. “I'm so sorry,” Art apologized profusely, knowing there was no other way out than the window. You understood - there wasn't any other option with his grandma right outside the door. 
You shrugged, not caring all that much as you kissed him back, hands smoothing his curls down. “We get it,” Patrick mused. “You’re throwing us out like some hookups, no don’t worry,” he laughed as Art shoved his chest. “We get it!”
Patrick pecked Art’s cheek in an apology, ignoring his eye roll, before helping you to the end of the bed. His hand smoothly slid around your waist to guide you to the window. “Ladies first,” he said ‘gallantly’. Patrick watches you swing a leg over the sill as you snicker. “How chivalrous,” you goad.
Your hands find his, holding tightly as he helps lower you to the ground. It’s a gentle landing, greatly helped by Patrick who goes to follow suit the moment your feet find purchase. His landing is…a lot less graceful, shoved outside by Art. He could only hold his grandma off for so long, excusing that he was taking so long because he was simply getting dressed, deciding to hurry it along.
With a yelp, Patrick practically swan dove from the window, a mess of flailing limbs. He lands in a painful heap to the side of you, groaning. You could only sigh as you lent a hand to pull him upright once more. “Patrick,” you nearly whine in annoyance.
He wasn’t the last to come out though, your clothes raining down on him, adding insult to injury. “Seriously?” Patrick muttered, brushing himself off indignantly. You were all lucky that Art only lived on the first floor. 
Despite the exit, you couldn't help but laugh at Patrick's disheveled state, the window slamming shut after another apology from Art. Your giggles bubbled over as you freed him from the shorts caught on his ear and shoulder.
Patrick only huffed, bundling the clothes unceremoniously.  It was a rough start to the morning and you could see his thinly veiled annoyance. Wanting to lighten the mood, you leaned in for a quick kiss. His furrowed eyebrows softened some as his lips pressed to yours.
“Come on, first one back to my dorm gets head,” you challenged, lips brushing against his. Patrick's eyes lit up at the offer. In an instant, he gripped your hand and took off in a sprint across campus. You laughed with glee as the wind rushed past, any lingering stress melting away by your joint euphoria.
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agerefandom · 2 days
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Oh dear, I accidentally went on a three-month hiatus without closing my inbox! Well, hi everyone, I'm back!! Sorry about the gap-- I was feeling a little sad about regression because I'm living in a place where I can't regress often right now. But I'm feeling better now!
I shall begin to try and get to my requests, new and old, and I'll probably reblog an ask game or art game as well! Oooh, and I'll probably have lots of other people's content to catch up on as well! I've really appreciated all of the AO3 comments during my hiatus, they make me so happy every time.
Hope you are all well <3 <3 Sending love and also moodboards in the making!!! (my moodboards are also made with love)
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jesuistrestriste · 9 hours
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Just woke up from a nap and had a dream abt Art awkwardly rejecting someone because he had a gf (me)
Now i can't stop thinking about how he'd go about a situation like this
i feel like if a girl came up to art, all soft and smiley, and was like “hey, i think you’re really cute. would you maybe wanna hang out sometime..?” he’d freeze up a lil at first lol
i think his cheeks would flush and the shells of his ears would turn red, and he’d let out this kinda half-chuckle like he doesn’t really know how to handle this sort of situation. he’s used to having to turn people down, but it never gets easier. he’s bad at confrontation sometimes.
but oooh boy he’s loyal to you. to his very core!
so i think he’d smile sheepishly (that little half smirk he does) and then gesture with his hands a bunch as he talks, “ohh.. you’re really nice and everything, but i’m— i just have, like, you know, i’m— i’m with someone, i have a girlfriend, but you’re nice..! we’ve—her and i— we’ve been together for a while now, so.. hah.. hahah... i’m sorry though.”
like. just a gentle ‘no’ would have sufficed, but he overexplains himself because he’d never want to hurt someone’s feelings per se. however he wants to make it very clear that he’s not interested. at all.
he kinda just leaves the person on the other end of the rejection feeling weird and confused ! but at least he successfully turned them down, right ! ! ?
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eulaliasims · 14 hours
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Shep round 1, 2/2
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Shep invited Derelei over to share their dinner, and she brought along another friend, Cian. It makes for a pleasant evening--this must be the highest Shep's social bar has been all spring.
Cian: Are you two excited for the spring festival tomorrow?
Shep: I don't know much about it yet.
Derelei: Oh, it's lots of fun. Dancing, food, too much drinking. You should come and we can dance together!
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Unfortunately, after her friends left Shep ran outside to stomp some mysteriously appearing roaches before I could stop her. In the rain, no less. Congratulations on starting our first potential plague, Shep! 👍
Shep: Does this mean I have to miss the festival? :(
I mean, I don't know if you know germ theory yet, but I do, so yes.
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I decided to take pity on her, since it's the first round and also I wanted to test the festival lot. Yes, yes, Helenet is very pretty.
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Helenet: I heard from the boss that you're under the weather, Shep?
Shep: Ah, yeah, it's just a little nagging cough and fever and a little bit of diarrhea. Look at me, I'm still up and at 'em!
Helenet: ...um, right. Drink this; it's one of my family's best tisanes for the flu. Sorry, um, but I've got to go get Angus from Eisu. Also, no offense, I don't really want to bring your sickness back to Angus.
Shep: Yeah, got it. Hey, does this taste any good or?
Helenet: No.
Shep: Aw.
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Shep: Bottoms up! ...Huh, this tastes like... blue raspberry? A thing that exists only a thousand, thousand years from now? Weird.
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Shep gets to put on her fancy dress and met up with Derelei after all!
Derelei: Yup, no fever... just some beautiful eyes.
Shep: Eheheh--
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Helenet seems pleased to see Shep having a good time and not coughing germs all over the place.
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Spotted: Eisu and his brother Elmet instructing Helenet in the finer art of skittles; and I think the two Seax sister have both overindulged with the mead.
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Shep manages to upset the full water basin when she's washing up for bed, which is a nice cherry on top of an up and down round.
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But summer is here, and the wheat is continuing to grow, with (thankfully) no more Sheep Incidents. Soon, Shep can set her plan into motion:
Step 1: harvest wheat
Step 2: ??????
Step 3: sell beer and become, if not fabulously, then comfortably wealthy! Just gotta figure out that middle step.
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meirimerens · 2 days
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in your mind's eye, is stakh peter's first romantic partner? if not, then what kind of men (and women) he would date?
sorry for the late reply i was looking at an acephalic roman marble copy of a bronze greek athena Yes it took 13 hours Now Yes i think he is. elaborating because i Love Lore + putting it in writing allows me to Rember so multiple reasons
i think it is a nice contrast with andrey who has enough lover to raise a small army (weapons included possibly). the hoeless and the hoeful.
while the peter we see in-game is Fucked Uppppp from the Farkhad Incident i think he was also kinda off his hinges before (#respectful, i'm off them myself) and kinda difficult to handle as a lover. or even as a person frankly. 2.5. you gotta have big strong hands to handle him and the people of the capital kinda too soft-grasped.
in correspondance with 1. & 2. i think peter is pickier about his lovers, or his entourage in particular. i think he's been courted in art school but they were so plebian to him he did not fw them. he also needs to #build something #deep and #powerful with someone before lovermode gets activated (again in contrast to andrey, who's way more casual about these things) and he both Is Difficult To Like as a person and Has Difficulties Liking
while you asked for the kind of people in the Peter Already Dated instance, i will still say it because i think it fits the answer anyways: he gravitates towards People Who Strive For Greatness, For Greater-Than-Themselves: this is why in-game he expresses fondness (mixed of fear) for the Kain women (someone asked a while ago how i considered his praises of either maria or nina they asked: this is what his deal is), and in my mind's eye gravitated towards farkhad -> this resulted in The Incident, especially considering farkhad is also Literally Great As In Tall, Like Taller Than The Twins, and it did peter's mind upside down sideways and all ways.
but actually 4.5 -> this is literally what the peterstakh deal is. rubin is Literally Great As In Tall and peter's brain melted. all blood drained from it went somewhere else. he has the big hands to handle him. literally this
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